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longitudinalwaveme · 4 years ago

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Giant Robots Vs Scale

I am well aware that scale does not exist in this franchise, and that my research was cursory at best, so take all of the following with a grain of salt.

So, the Dinobots. In terms of alt modes, we have:

Grimlock: Tyrannosaurus rex (40 feet long, 13 feet tall at the hips, 14 metric tons)

Snarl: Stegosaurus stenops (30 feet long, about 3 tons)

Slag: Triceratops horridus (26-30 feet long, 6.1-12.0 metric tons)

Sludge: Brontosaurus excelsus (72 feet long; 15 tons).

Swoop: Pteranadon longiceps (6 feet tall, 20-23 foot maximum wingspan, possibly around 35 pounds)

With the exception of Swoop, who's roughly human-sized in alt mode, discounting the wings, they're all pretty large, but not exceptionally so, especially compared to the alternate modes of most Decepticons. (Brawl, a Leopard A1 main battle tank, is 31 feet long; Vortex, a Kaman SH-2 Seasprite, is 44 feet long; the Seekers, who are all F-15 Eagles, are about 64 feet long, etc.)

This gave me the idea of scaling the Dinobots' alternate modes so that they're the same size proportionately to an Autobot car (usually around 13-15 feet tall) that the dinosaur off of which their alternate mode is based would be to a human. While this is absolutely not necessary for the fiction (especially since, as noted above, scale does not exist in this franchise), I thought it would be interesting to see the results. Assuming that we're measuring dinosaurs against a six-foot human male, this means that we're working with a size increase of (very roughly) X 2.5, which gives us the following results:

Grimlock: 100 feet long, 32.5 feet tall at the hips (note that Grimlock would probably be considerably taller at the head since he's an anatomically inaccurate Tyrannosaurus who stands upright), approximately 35 metric tons.

Snarl: 75 feet long, approximately 15 tons.

Slag: 65-75 feet long, approximately 15.25-30 metric tons.

Sludge: 180 feet long, 37.5 tons.

Swoop: 15 feet tall/long, 50 foot wingspan. He'd definitely be more than 87.5 pounds, since he's made of metal and doesn't need to be lightweight in order to fly like a real Pteranadon would, but that is what a 2.5 increase in weight would be compared to the original weight.

So if you want your Dinobots to be really big...there you go. (Well, except Swoop. Even X 2.5 his dimensions are only about equal to those of the Autobot cars...though he does have a longer wingspan than the F-16, the F-4, the Harrier II Jump Jet, and even the F-15).

Other useless (but funny) scale information:

Groove, the Honda Goldwing GL 1200 Police Motorcycle, is only about eight feet long. If we're nice to him and multiply his stats by 2.5 like we did with the Dinobots, that increases to 20 feet and actually makes him a bit larger than his generally 13-15 foot long car teammates. His weight would also increase from 875.5 pounds to 2,188.75 pounds. This would, however, make his motorcycle mode completely worthless as a disguise. (The Dinobots don't have this problem. Since they transform into metal versions of extinct animals, they're not fooling anyone regardless of how close they are to the size of the actual animals.)

Blades, his teammate, is a Bell UH-1V Iroquois Helicopter, and as such, is about 57 feet long and weights about 5,125 pounds (I'm presuming this is empty). If we decrease his size in the same way that we increased Groove's, this would make him 22.8 feet long and 2,050 pounds. He'd still be a little big, but he's scale much better with his teammates than he would at full size.

Streetwise is pretty simple. He's a Nissan 300ZX Turbo police car. He's 14.2 feet long and weighs in at 2,888-3,280 pounds, so pretty standard for a car.

First Aid is a Datsun Vanette C120 ambulance, and he's....surprisingly short. A Datsun Vanette C120 is only about 14 feet long. He's also about five and half feet wide, and weighs in at a surprisingly light 1,907-2,315 pounds. Have I been overestimating ambulance size this whole time, or is he just at tiny ambulance? Note that Ratchet and Ironhide are very similar in size to First Aid, as they are also Datsun Vanettes.

Hot Spot is a Mitsubishi Fuso Great Fire Engine, which was surprisingly difficult to find stats for. Based on the information I could find, he's nearly 25 feet long (24.93 feet) and weighs in at 16,931.5 pounds, making him the heaviest member of the team even if Blades is at full size. So, if we increase Groove's size by X 2 (X 2.5 seems a bit large) and decrease Blades by the same amount as we originally increased Groove, we'd actually have a kind-of sort-of reasonably scaled Protectobot team! As it stands, though, Groove and Blades are throwing everything off to a hilarious extent.

The Combaticons are a nightmarish mess. Since Swindle has become very strongly tied to a jeep alternate mode even though his original toy did not transform into a jeep, and his alternate mode animation model looks a LOT like Hound's, I'll be working off the assumption that Swindle is, in fact, a J59 Jeep, just like Hound. This would make him about 11.5 feet long and 2,665 pounds. This is small. If we multiply these stats by 2.5, this gets us 28.75 feet and 6,662.5 pounds. This would be a huge jeep, but he'd still be smaller (or at the very least, lighter) than all of his teammates.

Brawl is a Leopard A1 Main Battle Tank. (His animation model doesn't LOOK like one, but neither is it incredibly obviously something else, as is the case with Swindle.) Counting the fully extended turret, he's 9.54 meters, or 31.3 feet, long. (The main body of the tank is somewhere around 27 feet long.) He weighs in at 46.5 tons (that's 93,000 pounds!) However, as far as length is concerned, he scales reasonably well with a x2.5 Swindle.

Vortex is a Kaman SH-2 Seasprite helicopter. He's 38 feet, 4 inches long and weighs 7,040 pounds empty. This means he's about 7 feet longer than Brawl (including the turret), and about 10 feet longer than Swindle x2.5. Even at his absolute maximum weight capacity (13,300 pounds) he's still FAR lighter than the tank, however.

Onslaught is a headache, because, while he's obviously an anti-aircraft truck, neither his toy nor his animation model appear to be any particular type of anti-aircraft truck, making it really difficult to guess as to how large he might be.

A YouTube video posted by a user by the name of Nemesis Bloodryche suggests that he looks similar to the Russian BAZ-6909 10x10. It is 11,300 millimetres, or about 37 feet, long, and weighs 48,502 pounds (or about 24 tons). This would scale appropriately with Brawl and reasonably well with Vortex.

Blast Off is a space shuttle orbiter. (If he was the full space shuttle, he'd be even more massive than this!) He's 122 feet long, with a width of 58 feet and 7 inches and a wingspan of 78 feet. This means that he is wider than any of his teammates are long. He weighs in at a 53,930 pounds, which, while impressive, is somehow still less than Brawl (93,000 pounds). He's 3 times longer than Vortex and Onslaught, 4 times longer than Brawl sans turret and Swindle X 2.5, and almost 11 times longer than a properly-scaled J59 Jeep Swindle. Needless to say, he and Swindle are the main reason that Bruticus is such a mess, scale-wise. Believe it or not, though, Blast Off still isn't the worst in terms of scale. Also, if we kept Swindle's increased size and decreased Blast Off's size by the same factor, things would at least become slightly more reasonable, as this would give us a 48.8 foot long Blast Off, which, while still big, is not as ridiculously so.

Most of the Aerialbots, being fighter jets, are at least somewhat reasonably scaled. Slingshot, the Harrier II, is 46 feet long and 12,500 pound empty; Skydive, the F-16, is 49 feet, 5 inches long and 18,900 pounds empty; Fireflight, the F-4 Phantom II, is 63 feet long and 30,328 pounds empty; Air Raid, the F-15 is nearly 64 feet long and weighs 28,500 pounds empty. It's not perfect by a long shot, but it works if you squint, especially since Slingshot is usually depicted as smaller than the others. And then Silverbolt ruins everything. Silverbolt is a Concorde SST, 202 feet long and 173,504 pounds empty. He's longer and heavier than Blast Off, the space shuttle orbiter! Sure, the torso should logically be a bit larger than the combiner limbs, but this is just ridiculous. He's 3.2 times longer than Air Raid, his longest teammate, and 5.7 times heavier than Fireflight, his heaviest teammate! He's even 1.86 times heavier than the 46-ton tank and 1.65 times the length of the space shuttle orbiter! If we reduce his size by a factor of 2.5, Silverbolt would be 80.8 feet long and weigh 69,401.6, which, while not perfect, would be a lot more manageable than a full-sized Concorde SST.

The Stunticons have a similar problem. The four small cars actually scale even better than the Aerialbots. Drag Strip, the Tyrell P34, is 13.58 feet long and weighs 1,370 pounds. Breakdown, the Lamborghini Countach, is also 13.58 feet long, and weighs 2,978 pounds. Wildrider, the Ferrari 308 GTB, is 13.87 feet long and weighs 2,784 pounds. And Dead End, the Porsche 928, is 14.8 feet long and weighs between 1,450 and 1,620 pounds. They're not perfect, but they're all within less than three feet of one another! That's considerably better than the differences between the smaller Aerialbots, and MUCH better than the scale difference between, say, Blades and Groove. But then there's Motormaster. He is a truck and trailer. The "truck" part is the Kenworth K100 Aerodyne sleeper truck, which is about 20 feet long. The problems come in with the "trailer" part. A box trailer is about 48 feet long, and, since Motormaster's robot mode is composed of both truck and trailer, this makes him around 68 feet long, with a rough weight estimate of somewhere between 10,000 and 25,000 pounds. While he's not as huge as Silverbolt, he is just as large, if not larger, compared to his largest teammates, being 4.6 times longer than Dead End and 3.35-8.37 times heavier than Breakdown. Again, thanks to the YouTube video mentioned above for the length of the trailer. That being said, if we did what we did with Blades and Silverbolt and reduced his size by a factor of 2.5, Motormaster would be 27.2 feet long and between 4,000 and 10,000 pounds, and things would actually scale rather well. (This would also help to mitigate the scale discrepancy between Motormaster and Optimus Prime.)

Astrotrain, like Blast Off, is a space shuttle orbiter, 122 feet long and 53,930 pounds. However, unlike Blast Off, he is also a train: the JNR Class D51, which is 64 feet long. (There is a weight listed for the train, 76.8 tons, but I'm not sure if this weight refers only to the engine. Astrotrain's body is composed only of the engine, not the entire train.) This means that, when transforming from a train into a space shuttle, Astrotrain almost doubles in length!

Broadside transforms into some sort of fighter jet (neither the G1 toy nor the animation model resemble any known jet enough to tell for sure). For the sake of argument, we'll say he's an F-15. The F-15 is almost 64 feet long. His other alternate mode is an aircraft carrier. A Nimitz class aircraft carrier is 1,092 feet long. Broadside's aircraft carrier alternate mode would be 16 times longer than his airplane mode! Even Silverbolt, who is massive, would be 5.4 times shorter than Broadside's aircraft carrier mode! As insane as Astrotrain's doubling in length is, Broadside increasing his size by a factor of 16 is much, much more so.

Metroplex transforms into....a city? (Okay, so he really looks like he transforms into a fort, but it's more fun to imagine the scale of a true city-sized robot.) The largest city by land mass in the US, Oklahoma City, is 621 miles squared. While square miles can't really be used to measure distance, it is very, very roughly 16-ish miles in diameter. If Metroplex is the size of Oklahoma City (unlikely), this would make him around 84,480 feet tall. Mt. Everest is 29,032 feet tall. Metroplex would be nearly 3 times the height of Mt. Everest!

When it comes to determining Unicron's scale, the answer depends on whether we go with the roughly moon-sized Cybertron seen in the cartoon or the apparently Saturn-sized Cybertron of the comics. Please note that these estimates are VERY rough. The diameter of the Moon is 2,158.8 miles. If we assume, as seems probable, that Unicron at least doubles in length when he transforms, this would make him at least 4,317.6 miles tall. That's 22,796,928 feet tall! His gravitational force would be about 1.6 meters per second squared, and would have a mass of 7.342×10 to the 22nd power kg. (Mathematical expressions don't seem to work properly on this site.) If Unicron is instead the size of Saturn, he would have a diameter of 72,376 miles. If we double this, we get 144,752 miles tall or 373,460,160 feet! He would have a mass of at least 5.683 X 10 to the 26th power kilograms, and a gravitational force of at least 10.44 meters/second squared. I'm also pretty sure that it would be next to impossible to get a solid planet at this size. Saturn, unlike Unicron, is made of gas, enabling it to be much larger than a metal planet could logically grow.

#transformers #scale #transformers g1 #combaticons #stunticons #dinobots #aerialbots #protectobots #unicron #triple changers #long post

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platypanthewriter · 4 years ago

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The Devil Looks After His Own Ch.3

Chapter One | Two

Little Steve Harrington is so lonely he tries summoning a demon with a ritual advertised on TV–but luckily, it doesn’t work, and a buff, non-human nanny hired by his mom shows up minutes later. Years later, they’re best friends, and Steve still doesn’t know the truth. For @magniloquent-raven!

“Y’know, I did take payment,” Billy said, as he snapped and Steve’s cereal was just marshmallows, and Steve shook his head. Billy snapped again, and there was some cereal in there again. “You were trying to give that Camaro set away to some demon, and when I showed up, I took it.”

Steve paused, frowning at his bowl, because he liked the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28.

“Unless you want it back,” Billy said, cocking his head to catch Steve’s eye, and Steve shook his head hard.

“No, no, I don’t,” he said quickly. “D’you...really really like LEGOs?”

“Uhhh,” Billy made a face. “I like making things with you, because you really like ‘em. But it’s not about what I want, it’s something important to you. And that set was your favorite, right?”

“...it was new,” Steve mumbled, kicking his feet. “But it’s not…”

“Not what?” Billy asked, cautiously, and Steve bit his lips together, wondering what to say.

“D’you want all my LEGOs,” he finally asked. “Y-you can have all of them. D’you—”

“Hey, hey, kiddo,” Billy laughed, as Steve swallowed hard. “Hey, it’s okay, my man, what’s wrong?”

“It’s not enough,” Steve said, squeezing his spoon so hard it dug into his hand, and blinking hard to clear his eyes.

“...brat,” Billy said, fondly. “All I’ve done is make you cereal a couple times. You’ve still got some credit, really.”

“You’re my best friend,” Steve squeaked out, not crying, but kinda sounding like it anyway. He tried not to sniffle. “Y-you’re my best friend, you—you’re worth more than LEGOs.”

“Shit, c’mere, kidlet,” Billy said, coming around to hug him. “Nothing here to cry about, you little weirdo, what—”

“Are you on sale,” Steve demanded, pulling Billy closer. “How come you’re cheap—”

“Oh my god,” Billy snickered, because he wasn’t taking anything seriously.

“Is this like the Woohoo! stickered meat at Safeway,” Steve asked, shaking him. “Are—are you old?! Billy are you gonna die—”

“No!” Billy cackled. “No, no, I’m—I’m fine—”

“Are you gonna get slimy like the old mushrooms we bought?!” Steve whined, crying for real, and Billy started laughing too hard to talk. “You’re not even listening,” Steve mumbled as Billy squeezed him tightly, stroking his hair.

“Lucifer falling,” Billy mumbled, kissing Steve’s head. “I’m okay, alright? I’m—I’m not past my expiration date.”

“When is it,” Steve asked anxiously, and Billy started snickering again, wiping his eyes.

“It’s not for a few thousand years,” Billy promised, and Steve mouthed it, wide-eyed.

“...oh,” said Steve, trying to figure out the math on the huge number. Even his dad, he was pretty sure, wasn’t more than a hundred. “...how old is my dad?” he asked, thinking, and Billy frowned thoughtfully.

“Younger than me,” he said, with certainty. “Maybe just a few hundred years old?”

“Oh,” Steve said, doubtfully, and then he squinted over at the card on the fridge. It said ‘Over the Hill: Congrats on the big 4-0!’ and Steve frowned at it. “...his birthday card says he was forty,” he said, and Billy stilled.

“...forty what?” he asked.

“...yeeeears?” Steve guessed, less certain in the face of Billy’s disbelief. “I...I think when my mom’s grandma died, she was seventy-eight. Years,” he added, for Billy. It had seemed like an impossibly large number at the time.

“...years,” Billy breathed, wide-eyed. “Not—not centuries, just years.” His grip tightened on Steve, and he finally looked upset. “You—you’re going to die in years.”

“...unless I get sick,” Steve told him honestly, and then wished he hadn’t, because Billy made a choking noise in his throat, and hugged him tighter. “Um, it’s—it’s a lot of years,” he muttered, into Billy’s shoulder, and Billy shook his head, sniffling.

“No, it’s not,” he breathed. “Fuck. Shit. I—damn it, kid.”

“It’s okay,” Steve told him, grimacing, and patting Billy’s shoulder. “Don’t cry. You—you can, um, you can get a...dog. You can play with my LEGOs.”

“That’s the most depressing picture, damn,” Billy muttered, wiping his eyes. “You sure you don’t want immortality instead of marshmallows, kiddo?”

“I-immune?” Steve muttered, frowning, and Billy messed up his hair. Steve yelled and batted at him, giggling.

“You wanna live forever with me, short stuff?” Billy asked, ducking away from Steve swinging a rolled-up magazine at him in revenge. Steve paused mid-swing, frowning suspiciously at him, and Billy laughed. “You wanna just be a kid and play with LEGOs forever?”

“...I wanna grow up,” Steve said, with certainty, after some thought. “And play with LEGOs.”

“...yeah, I figured,” Billy said, smiling a little.

“I want a credit card,” Steve told him, and Billy snorted a laugh. “...what happens to you when I die? Do you get to go home?” Steve asked, and Billy made a face. “...where is home?” Steve asked, more cautiously.

“Nowhere I wanna go,” Billy told him, messing his hair up again.

He looked kind of lonely all afternoon, Steve thought. There wasn’t much Steve could do about death, really, so finally he just hit Billy with a water balloon.

They took a long time to decide on a house for Billy. Finally Steve took all his kits out, and stared at them, while Billy fidgeted next to him on the bed.

“What if we put them all together,” Steve whispered, feeling like it was something forbidden. “I put them all together by myself already. We—we could make you a—a castle with a space shuttle on top, and a Millenium Falcon, and—and dungeons.”

“Those might come in handy,” Billy said, nodding, and Steve giggled. “I need a garage for my Camaro, too.”

“It’s a 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28,” Steve told him, feeling like Nancy when she corrected people about dinosaur feathers.

Billy shrank down to the size of his hand and helped, running around the table and kicking through piles of loose LEGO to find pieces, and they added some things to support the weight of stuff hanging off the sides. Steve had been grinning so hard his cheeks were sore, his feet numb from sitting on them all evening, when his mom poked her head in, and Billy leapt through a LEGO window to hide.

“...what a mess,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “It’s gonna take you hours to sort these back into bags.”

“I’m making a tower,” Steve told her, since that was mostly what it looked like. “I’ll put all the extra parts away, though.”

“Eugh,” she said, and shut the door without remembering to say goodnight.

“How’d they get you as a kid?” Billy asked, from inside the haunted mansion, and Steve sighed.

“Probably I was on sale,” he muttered. “Dad will buy anything if there’s a coupon for it,” and Billy started laughing so hard he had to grab the fancy goblet stuck to the table, for support. Steve grinned, watching him standing next to the dangling skeleton. “You wanna try the elevator?” he asked. “It actually moves.”

“It actually falls, more like,” Billy said, making a face. His voice was kind of reedy. “No way.”

“...can you get...hurt, this size?” Steve asked, suddenly horrified, and Billy shrugged, leaning out to look at the elevator.

“My bones are tiny,” he said. “I could stay sturdy, but I’d weigh a lot, y’know, I’d probably break your LEGO set.”

“Oh,” Steve said softly, jerking his hands back from the set. “Do—do you need help getting down?”

“I’m fine, probably,” Billy said, and then promptly fell out as he tried to edge around the table, and Steve yelped and caught him in both hands. He weighed almost nothing, like a bird.

“Be careful,” Steve hissed at him.

“I can heal myself, probably,” Billy panted, wide-eyed, and Steve found another drawback of minifigure-sized Billy, when he tried to hug him, and had to just gingerly brush his cheek against Billy’s whole body.

“It doesn’t matter if you heal,” Steve hissed. “It still would hurt, right?!”

“...yeah, but if I fix it, I’m okay again,” Billy said, laughing, and Steve lifted him up so Billy was only a couple inches from his nose, and Steve could see his expression. Billy grabbed his thumb.

“...if I fall down the stairs and break my arms and my legs and my head open,” Steve said, remembering Billy’s panicked yell when Steve had slipped on the cement stairs outside, in the rain, and clonked his head on the rod-iron railing, “—is it fine if you fix it?”

“Holy crap, kid, don’t even say that,” Billy breathed.

“So it’s not okay if you fall down the LEGO stairs either,” Steve hissed, and Billy blinked at him, then laughed a little, and Steve could swear his face went a little red.

“I’m not human, short stuff. It’s different.”

“It’s not,” Steve said stubbornly. Billy waved to the Death Star, and Steve held his hand next to one of the conference room chairs, then grimaced. “Don’t fall again,” he told his tiny best friend. “I’m gonna put railings in,” he decided, rooting through the pile of discarded LEGO. “You can’t just fix yourself—”

“I do,” Billy said, laughing, and Steve stopped.

“...Billy,” he said softly, “—when?”

“...just...sometimes,” Billy said, climbing up on the table and kicking the Darth Vader minifigure in the head so it flew and knocked into the Palpatine minifig, which distracted Steve for a second, because it was the coolest thing he’d ever seen.

He covered his eyes. “Billy.”

Billy groaned. “You know. Like the time I didn’t know not to put cold glass under the hot water, and it blew up in my hand. Or that time in the parking lot when you didn’t look, and that car almost crushed you against the cement divider, and I pushed you out of the way.”

Steve remembered that one—he’d been kinda mad about it, because Billy’d shoved him to the ground, and he’d skinned his knees—but he remembered he hadn’t said so, because Billy was pale and shaken, and made Steve promise about 900 things about car safety. “...you...fixed...the car hit you?!” he breathed, his hands twitching as he longed to hug Billy, but couldn’t grab him when he was so small. “You—the—”

“I fixed it,” Billy waved his hands, laughing. “It wasn’t expensive—”

“You—could you have—moved yourself, or stopped the car,” Steve whispered, sitting on his hands.

“I might have had to alter the driver’s memories if I teleported, though, and moving the car is expensive, too, how many LEGO sets you wanna burn through to keep me, Stevie—”

“...Billy,” Steve said blankly. His eyes stung.

“Don’t wanna wear out my welcome,” Billy said, laughing.

“These are all yours now,” Steve said, waving at the stacked sets, ceiling-high. “The-they’re all. Yours. If—if you need more we can—we can do. Something. Don’t get hurt. Even if you can fix it.”

“...you don’t need to give me all that,” Billy said, frowning down.

“I love LEGO but you’re more important,” Steve told him, gritting his teeth, because Billy should have known that, and if he didn’t, maybe Steve had screwed something up. “You’re super important, Billy.”

“...okay,” Billy said, sounding confused.

“Save the—the magic for nobody getting hurt,” Steve told him, crossing his arms. “Obviously. What—what are you doing, anyway, are you stupid?! Don’t get hurt, Billy. That’s an order.”

“Oooo, an order, big man,” Billy said, laughing.

“An order, and you have to listen to this one,” Steve growled.

“You told me I can decide what to do after I listen,” Billy said, because he was a dick, and Steve told him so.

“You’re being an asshole,” he whispered, so his parents didn’t hear.

“I’ll try not to get hurt,” Billy told him, tossing Palpatine out on the rug, “—but no promises. Keep that guy out there, he reminds me of my dad.”

“He can go in the dungeon,” Steve suggested. “You promise? You’ll try.”

“Yeah, yeah. Put Darth Vader down there too, he sucks.” They put Doc Ock and Harley Quinn in there too, and Jafar, a clown Billy thought looked suspicious, and a lady in a horned helmet Steve was pretty sure wasn’t on the side of the heroes.

“No innocent until proven guilty here, I guess,” Billy said, sitting on the edge of the pirate ship on the mansion’s roof, and kicking his legs. “Maybe she was born a minotaur, you ever think of that?”

Steve giggled, and put the horned lady out with the topiaries. “We can see how she behaves,” he said. “But she’s not the minotaur—”

“Put Dumbledore in the dungeon too,” Billy pointed a flag he’d wrested off the pirate ship. “He is not responsible about the safety of his school.”

“And this mafia guy,” Steve said, and Billy gasped.

“Profiling! You just assume he’s mafia?!”

“He has a gun and a chainsaw,” Steve snickered harder, but sat him up in the conference room.

“Elsa should go in the dungeon too, from Frozen,” Billy said thoughtfully, and Steve fell over laughing, because Billy had yelled for an hour after that movie. “She froze a whole damn country,” Billy pointed out. “Sure, she warmed it up eventually, but how many people froze in the meantime?!”

“Let it go,” Steve gasped, wiping his eyes.

“What about the dead babies, Stevie? Should I let them go?” Billy asked, his hands on his hips. He looked hilarious with one foot on the LEGO rigging of the pirate ship, flag in hand. “You got any blue frozen children we can put with her?”

“Oh my god,” Steve cackled, rolling onto his back. His stomach hurt.

As the school year went on, Steve made more friends. Billy looked kind of lost the first time Steve got invited away for a slumber party, but Steve couldn’t help thinking about how magical beings required a price, and wondering when he wouldn’t be able to afford Billy being his friend anymore.

He’d gotten more esoteric in his reading, since Billy wouldn’t answer certain questions, and he’d found Grateful Dead stories at the library, all about travelers finding a corpse and burying it, only to be helped by its spirit for years, like Cinderella and her dead mom giving her dresses. In his reading, those sounded the most like Billy, since he wasn’t exactly a genie. Steve racked his brain trying to remember a bird he might have buried, or roadkill he’d pushed out of the road, but Billy didn’t like talking about who he’d been before Steve, so he was reluctant to ask.

The thought that Billy might be dead, might just...run out one day and vanish, used up when he’d repaid his debt to Steve, was so lonely Steve clung to him for nearly a week, sitting in his lap as they watched TV at night, and not paying enough attention to anything Billy said. He was so bad at acting normal about it that Billy tried to take him to the doctor, and Steve had to get ahold of himself, and start planning for when Billy was gone.

He started by making friends. He complimented Barb on her tidy desk when they did coloring, and Tommy on his new boots, and Nancy on her treasure hunt clues at recess. He passed his fruit snacks around, and pretty soon other kids shared too.

Billy got quieter. After a few days, Steve drug him around the side of the gym again and hugged him, squeezing him as tight as he could, until he hugged back so hard his fingers dug in against Steve’s shoulder blades.

“I’m not bored of you,” Steve told him, sliding his fingers into Billy’s hair, and brushing his thumb over Billy’s earring. “You’re my favorite too.”

Billy sighed into his shoulder, burying his face in Steve’s neck, and Steve held onto him. “...you ever want me to leave, tell me, and I’ll go,” Billy said softly, and Steve shook his head frantically, hugging him tighter, clumsily, so Billy’s shirt hitched up under his arm, and Billy’s skull thudded against Steve’s jaw.

“I don’t want you to leave ever,” Steve whispered, so fervently his voice shook, and Billy sighed, relaxing in his arms. “...how...how long can you stay,” he whispered, sniffling back tears, and Billy twitched.

“What d’you—I can stay, Stevie,” he said softly, but Steve shook his head, pulling his hand back to wipe his eyes.

“Genies run out,” he hissed, crying harder. “Ghosts fade. What are you, Billy, how can—how can I—”

“Oh, shit,” Billy muttered, grabbing his face, and Steve laughed, sniffling. “No, no, I’m—I’m not leaving, I swear.”

“I-if I don’t ask for things?” Steve offered, and Billy bit his lips.

“You can ask for things,” he muttered. “I—I’ll just tell you how much it would be. You can give me more LEGOs.”

“Okay,” Steve told him, used to the weight in his stomach that was worry about Billy. He squeezed tighter.

That night, he couldn’t sleep, and Billy finally called over from his matchbox bed in the space shuttle. “You okay, kid?”

Steve stared at the ceiling, blinking back tears, and trying not to sniffle.

“...are you dead?” he asked, finally, in a scratchy voice that hurt his throat. “Billy?”

Billy ran down like six staircases through the sets to stand on Steve’s bedside table, and Steve put his arm out for Billy to scoot down. “What,” he said, climbing up to stand on Steve’s chest, and Steve tried not to move too much as he pushed his pillow more under his head, so Billy wouldn’t fall.

“Are you dead,” he asked. “Is—is that why you can...do things? And—and why you’re so old?”

“No, I’m not dead, what the—heck, kid,” Billy sighed, sitting cross legged on Steve’s chest like a little Disney fairy. He was cute, and Steve sighed, trying not to smile when Billy looked upset.

“...you’re not a fairy or a genie, exactly,” Steve said, wiping his nose. A tear slid down around his cheek, and dripped warm onto his neck. “Cinderella’s dead mom granted wishes.”

“...I thought that was a fairy,” Billy said, frowning distractedly, and Steve shook his head.

“I read a book in the library that said she was actually a nice ghost. Disney changed it.”

“Huh,” Billy said, raising his eyebrows, then shook his head. “Anyway, no, I’m not dead.”

“Good,” Steve said, swallowing hard, and Billy got up, nervously, and walked up to pat uncertainly at Steve’s chin. “I love it when you forget you can change size,” Steve giggled wetly. “Turn kid-sized.”

Billy did, his weight squishing Steve’s chest until he scrambled off, but Steve grabbed him, and hugged him close.

Check out my other Harringrove stuff!

#Harringrove #Demon!Billy #Summoner!Steve #Kid!Steve

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ashdoesfandomarchieved · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt, Angst, The titan gets badly damaged and a lot of the crew are dead or injured, mariner goes AWOL from the cerritos to find out if boimler is okay and there's a scene with boimler unconscious on a biobed and Mariner is like "you have to live so I can feed you to an armus for leaving the cerritos!"

A/N: you sent this prompt ages ago, but the words just wouldn't happen lmao. So six months late and a few thousand words short, here you go:

ao3

Okay, so here’s the thing.

Beckett keeps files on everyone. Not physical files of course--too insecure and hackable (she should know). But a mental file. Still hackable if she runs into a telepath, but still slightly more secure from the rest of her coworkers.

It’s not as if they’re particularly like. Creepy files. She isn’t snooping into anyone’s actual physical file onboard or obtaining any info illegally. She just observes things and passively marks them for later. Tendi likes peanut-butter sandwiches. Janice gets her neck tattoos re-inked every few months. Captain Mom has a stick up her ass. That kind of thing.

It’s a fine tuned compartmentalization that’s useful in a variety of situations, whether it’s knowing what to say in a social situation or who to trust during a red alert (tip: always go with Rutherford, he’s anxious but the least likely to betray you and throw you out of an airlock. Bonus: he’s the most likely crew member on this trashcan to actually have a working idea).

Some mental files are incredibly detailed. For instance, the one on her mom is about as thick as a handbound copy of War & Peace and just as boring. Everything from her favorite flavor of ice cream to her first response to an emergency situation is in there-incredibly accurate and incredibly detailed. She’s sure her mom has a similar mental file on her as well, but resolutely does Not think about it.

Some mental files are almost empty. Ensign Gent’s toothbrush is pink. First Officer Ransom has nice abs I guess. That dude who’s name I can’t remember opened his third eye and ascended into the afterlife or something I wasn’t actually there Tendi told me and I was on my fourth drink.

And then some are medium sized but entirely unremarkable.

Like Bradward Boimler’s, for instance.

Loves classic rock. Dyes his hair purple. Stickler for rules. Needs to loosen up a bit. A lot. Probably needs to get laid. Definitely needs to get laid.

That’s it, that’s the entire file. Beckett doesn’t really concern herself with whatever’s going on with Boimler beyond the occasional ribbing or co-assignment. It’s not because she doesn’t like the dork. She would tentatively (but never to his face) call him her friend if cornered. And she enjoyed riling him up.

She updates the file about a year (almost two) into her acquaintance with him. FUCKING BACKSTABBING TRAITOR. (That’s it now, that's the entire file.) She doesn’t revisit it again, not for almost eight months, despite Tendi’s cheerful updates on how he’s doing--they’re still in constant contact, despite his ghosting Beckett--and Rutherford’s worried comments on his well-being.

“It’s not our job to babysit him,” she snapped one day. “Hell, it wasn’t our job when he was here. Just let it go.”

And that was the end of that.

______

Okay, that was very much not the end of that.

It starts like this:

“Something’s going on, on the Titan,” Tendi hisses, dropping down into Beckett’s bunk at like 2am. Time doesn’t work the same out here as it does on Beckett’s home planet, but it feels like 2am so she’s calling it 2am. Everyone who’d been on the Alpha shift were pretty much dead to the world anyway, so it might as well have been. The point was, Beckett was sleeping, Tendi should have been sleeping, but instead the two of them are having an anxious stare off in the dark.

And Beckett’s currently having cardiac arrest from being startled so soundly. After her heart starts working again like a human heart is supposed to, the words begin to register. Sort of. “What?”

Tendi flips her padd around. Beckett blinks at the bright light from the screen, squinting to see what’s there.

“Is that morse code? Why the fuck is the Titian using morse code.”

Tendi stares at her unblinkingly, face flat.

Then,

“Oh. Oh shit. Shit!” Beckett sits straight up, throwing the covers off. There’s a few protesting noises and shushes that ensue around the room, but Beckett is already making a blind grab for her pants and shoes. “The fuck didn’t you lead with that?”

“Because people are sleeping,” Tendi whispers. Loudly. She rolls off the bunk and onto the floor, shoes already on. “So we’re going, right?”

“Of course we’re fucking going,” Beckett hisses. “Why wouldn’t-”

“Because you’ve been all hung up over him for the past eight months.”

“He ghosted me!”

“Okay yeah-”

“After accepting a promotion that he promised he wouldn’t-”

“Mariner-”

“He’s a backstabbing, little weasel who climbs over his friends-”

“Is this about that or the fact that you miss him?”

Beckett finishes pulling her shoes on and stands up, scowling. “I don’t miss him. Why are you defending him?”

“I’m pissed too. Don’t get me wrong, when we see him I’m gonna kill him. But I think this is more than that.”

“Whatever.” Beckett turns on her heel. “Are we stealing a shuttle or what?”

“Rutherford’s already on it.” Tendi taps rapidly on her data padd, keeping pace with Beckett’s light job easily. “We were hoping you could like. Let your mom know-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Beckett pulls out her comm, quickly typing out a quick message to her mother. “This is gonna be a shitshow.” The two of them enter the shuttle bay, which is pretty much deserted due to it being beta-shift.

“I have no idea how we’re even going to sneak onto the planet. It’s been on lockdown since the Titian crashed there.” Tendi’s shoulders slump.

“Leave it to me, I know a guy.”

“Of course you do,” Rutherford says, popping head out the shuttle door. “Good to go?”

Tendi gives him a thumbs up.

Beckett straps herself into a chair, stomach churning. “He’s fine though, right? Like, we would have gotten a call. Who’s his emergency contact anyway?”

Tendi worries her lip between her teeth. “His mom? I don’t know, it never came up and I don’t have access to his file.”

“He wasn’t on the list of deceased. Just the missing persons list,” Rutherford offers helpfully, punching in some coordinates.

“Well that’s reassuring,” Beckett mutters under her breath. She stares down at her comm, stomach churning.

_______

“Seriously, what are the odds of this even happening?” Tendi asks, dragging Rutherford by the arm behind them. A severely concussed, disgruntled Rutherford makes a grunt of what Beckett assumes is agreement.

“Do you really want to be arguing about the odds right now?” Boimler shrieks, sliding to an uncoordinated stop as the four of them run directly into the maze wall.

“Fuck,” Beckett says, eloquently.

“I thought you said you knew which way we were going!” Boimler runs a hand through his wet hair, face going through a series of complicated expressions before settling on frustration.

Beckett crosses her arms. “I did know where we were going. When I had the fucking map!”

“Why are you yelling at me about that? I didn’t even have it!”

“I don’t see anyone else here dumb enough to have lost it.”

“Guys-”

“You were the last person with the map, Mariner.”

“Unless some idiot took it out of my pack when I wasn’t looking.”

“Guys.”

“I didn’t touch your stupid map! Why are you so fixated on this!”

“Because if we had the map, maybe we wouldn’t be about to die via giant space spider!”

“Guys!” Rutherford shouts.

Beckett jumps at the unexpected shout from the usually quiet ensign. She turns on her heel, meeting Tendi and Rutherford’s unimpressed stares.

“Lookie, secret passage.” Rutherford waves a hand to a hole in the wall that hadn’t been there like two seconds ago. “You two good? Can we go?”

Beckett pushes past Boimler, lightly shoulder checking him and jumps through the doorway after her two annoyed friends. She doesn’t listen worriedly to see if Boimler follows her (she doesn’t) and she doesn’t resist the urge to turn around and make sure he’s close.

She balls her hands into tight fists and stomps past Tendi and Rutherford, ignoring the exchanged glances. “Please tell me this is a way out.” Her flat voice has the barest hint of a tremble in it.

You’re losing your touch, Mariner, get it together, she tells herself.

Tendi pulls a lighter out of her back pocket. (Because of course D’Vana Tendi has an old timey lighter on hand. There was a reason Beckett liked her after all.) It takes a couple of flicks, but she manages to get it to catch. The small source of light barely lights up their passageway, but it’s enough to see that it leads deeper into the planet.

“Well, here goes nothing,” Tendi sighs. “I’ll take the lead, I guess. You good, Sam?”

Rutherford grimaces, but nods. “Nothing I can’t handle. Let’s just get out of here.”

_______

It would be Beckett’s luck that she and Bomlier get separated from the other two. And it would just be their luck that there’s a cave in just before they reach the end of the catacombs. And of course, of fucking course, the Cerritos’ ETA on getting them out is anywhere from 2-6 hours, depending on how fast they can get the ship up and running again.

If anyone is using buffer time, Beckett is going to put spiders in their pillowcase.

“This is bullshit,” she mutters, dropping into a seated lotus position. She plays with Tendi’s lighter, flickering it on and off again.

Boimler grimaces from across her. “Can you stop that? It’s giving me a headache.”

Beckett makes steady eye contact again and flicks it off again.

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck yourself. Or whatever,” Beckett mutters. She flicks the lighter back on.

Boimler makes a face like he’s swallowing back a retort. Instead of snapping back, he jams his hands into his pockets. “Can we- can we just talk about it? Like actually talk about it, not passive aggressively pretend like-”

“Like passive aggressively avoiding your best friend’s calls is okay?” Lighter flicks off again. “Yeah, that seems like bitch move, for sure. Glad I don’t know anyone who does that.”

“I’m sorry,” Boimler says into the dark, voice cracking.

“Fuck you.” Beckett flicks the lighter back on. Boimler’s eyes follow it, eyes dilating slightly as the light hits them. She flicks it off again, plunging the cave into darkness again. She flicks it back on. Boimler leans heavily against the cave wall, not looking at her or the light. He starting to look very pale. Paler than usual.

Beckett wonders about that headache.

“How long were you out here before we got your distress signal?” she asks, keeping her eyes glued to the lighter. She sees him shrug in her peripheral.

“Dunno. A while.”

Her stomach tightens. “You didn’t like. See anything weird?”

“You mean besides you and Tendi hauling ass? Not really.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why?”

“What about strange smells-”

“Mariner.”

“You look pale,” she snaps. “And like super clammy. And I’m not talking about your stressed out will Mariner stop talking clammy, I’m talking like I think you inhaled a deadly neurotoxin kind of clammy.”

“I feel fine! Just the headache. Aaand maybe a slight stomach ache,” he adds at her flat expression. “I always have a stomach ache though-”

“-yeah, yeah, it’s the ulcer you’ve had since you were, like, two, you’re a goddamn medical marvel Boims. Budge over.” She shoves the lighter into his hands and grabs his face. “Are you dizzy,” she asks, peering in closely at his pupils.

Boimler tries to shove her away, but she’s stronger and more stubborn. “A little. Look, it’s just the headache and str-”

“Yeah, do you usually get pink eye from stress?” she asks dryly, pulling back to giving him some breathing room.

“I-what.”

“Your white are like. Super inflamed or whatever. Boimler, I think something’s wrong.”

“Shit.” He rubs his temples. “What’s that ETA again?”

“Six hours. Give or take some buffer time.” Mariner stands up. She’s not worried, she’s not. “Maybe you should lie down.”

Boimler glowers at her in the dim light, hands tightly wrapped around her lighter. “I’m fine.”

______

“Good thing you pulled him out when you did,” Dr T’Ana tells Ransom. “Any longer-” she pauses, seeing Beckett’s expression. “Do you want to know what it was?” she asks her.

Beckett, who’s currently white knuckling the back of the plastic chair by the biobed, shakes her head. “Not really,” she replies, stiffly. “Long-term effects?”

“None,” T’Ana replies, scratchy voice almost gentle. Almost. “So feel free to be as hard on him as you want when he wakes up.”

Ransom barks a laugh, clapping Beckett’s shoulder. “Oh, Mariner knows how to be-”

“If you make a single hard joke in my presence, I’m tossing you back onto that planet,” Beckett replies flatly.

Ransom removes his hand. “Right! Right, I’ll just be on my-”

“Out,” T’Ana and Beckett snap.

There’s a pause after the turbolift doors close after Ransom. Dr. T’Ana eyes Beckett warily for a moment. Then, “Call me if he wakes up with any symptoms.”

“You said-”

“Yeah, well. He has a lot of surprises in him, doesn’t he?” She gives Beckett a pointed look before leaving, grumbling down at her clipboard.

Beckett glares down at the unconscious Boimler. “The shit I go through for your dumb ass.” She flops into the uncomfortable chair. “Wake up already. It’s no fun yelling at you like this.”

____

Surprisingly, Beckett does not yell at Boimler when he wakes up. It’s a near thing, though.

“Well, thanks for not letting me die, I guess,” he says, watching her warily after she’s done ranting. Not yelling, ranting.

“I wouldn’t have let you die,” she scoffs. “You’re still my friend, dumbass.”

Boimler perks up in surprise. “What?”

“Look, just because you pulled the ultimate shitty move, doesn’t stop us from being friends. You’re still on notice, though.”

“Right! Right.” He pauses, blinking up at her. “Does it help that I submitted a transfer back to the Cerritos before any of this went down?”

Beckett freezes. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong that was my actual dream job, buuuut-”

“Riker is crazy?” Beckett dryly supplies.

“I thought you were crazy,” Boimler lets out a whooshing breath. “Like I seriously thought you were the most batshit, insane person I’d ever met, hands down. But Riker is certifiable.”

Beckett grins. She can’t suppress it and she’s too tired to try. “So you’re saying I’m preferable.”

“I will take you any day of the week over that.”

“Sounds like a compliment.”

“It is.”

“Hmm.” She eyes him critically.

“Soooo,” he draws out the word. “Am I forgiven?”

Beckett picks his shirt up off the end of the biobed and throws it at his face. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” He pulls it over his head, causing his hair to stick up in the back. Beckett suppresses the urge to smooth it down.

“I like watching you squirm,” she replies. “It soothes my massively inflated ego.”

Boimler barks out a laugh, easing himself out of the biobed carefully. Beckett turns to go--he still has to talk with Dr. T’Ana and possibly her mom over the transfer, and give his full report to Riker--but stops as he catches her wrist in one hand.

“Hey. Thanks.”

Beckett’s heartbeat rackets up a few notches. Stop that, she thinks at it and then stops because thinking at your own organs is weird. “Don’t worry about it,” she says, voice even. “You would have done the same for me.”

It’s true. Boimler may be a bit of a bastard and sometimes a shitty friend, but she has no doubt he’d have come running if it’d been the Cerritos accosted.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Sometimes I feel like that’s all I do with you.”

“What?”

He drops his gentle grip on her wrist. “Nothing. Just.” He shrugs, looking cagey. “I know I’ve been a bit of a-”

“Bitch?”

“--yeah, that lately. But. There’s not much I wouldn’t do for you. And that’s why I’m coming back. Because-because you deserve to know that. That you're my best friend, too.”

Her face heats up. “Yeah, well,” she mumbles. “Whatever.” Jams her hands into her pockets. “Don’t think I’m just gonna forget everything because you-”

“Yeah, I know. It’s fine.” He gives her a lopsided smile. “I just thought you should know.”

____

Beckett can feel the blush on her cheekbones until she reaches her bunk. Fuck, she thinks. Fuuuuuck.

She opens up her mental file on Boimler, crossing out whatever she had in there before. Best friend, she replaces it with. Stares at it for a long moment. Erases it. Puts it back.

Bradward “Brad” Boimler. Best friend. Loves classic rock. Dyes his hair purple. Has made some improvements, but still needs to loosen up a bit. Probably needs to get laid. Definitely needs to get laid.

You could help with that.

Best friend. She underlines in the file. You don’t have feelings like that for your friends.

Beckett throws herself into her bunk. She had the horrible, sneaking suspicion that Brad Boimler’s file was about to get a lot longer.

_______

#beckett mariner #brad boimler #marinler #boimler x mariner #d'vana tendi #sam rutherford #star trek lower decks #star trek lower decks fic #star trek lower decks fanfic

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write-1t-bop-1t · 4 years ago

Text

Crashed and found

Entry for the secret shifters G/T Fanfic swap @secret-shifters

https://secret-shifters.tumblr.com/

Gift for: @syndicate-speck https://syndicate-speck.tumblr.com/

Tiny astronaut crash lands on a giant planet or vice versa, sci-fi gulliver's travels style

Triggers/tropes to avoid: Spiders, I guess

Relationship types to avoid: None per se, feel free to go ham (but keep it sfw obviously)

Fluff or angst: No preference

I take a deep breath, running my hand through my hair and ruffling it around before breathing out and spinning in my chair to face the screen, reaching out my hand to press record,

“Hello again everybody, Ryan Harte here for log number 637, day 453 at 6:23pm Eastern time. Everything on board the ship has been running smoothly as always, no further difficulties involving the damaged engine. Alexander was able to complete the repairs with no further issue. We are a few days away from the designated drop zone, planet classification #677, and will be ready for retraction shortly after.”

I give another short sigh as I record my report, having done this almost everyday for the past year and a half. It gave time meaning, and at least it was something to do other than annoy my travel partner. I look back at the screen, smiling up at it.

“I can’t believe long it’s been…. I can’t wait for my paycheck when I get back to earth,” I say, giving a little laugh to myself.

“There is currently nothing to report on the mission, and the current planet objection is in visual range from the ship. We should-”

I get cut off from my video when the door to my room opens with a loud whoosh noise, startling me as I almost fall out of my chair, letting out a less than manly squeak of surprise.

I look over to see my travel buddy, Alexander, standing at my door with a bored expression.

“Oh, were you doing one of your diary entries again, pipsqueak?”

He says with a teasing tone, making my face turn red as I grab something off the floor and chuck it at him.

“Shove it! It’s not a diary and you know that!”

I grumble, throwing more things at him while he laughs to himself. He surrenders, putting his hands up to guard his hair, the long black strands now slightly frizzy from having collided with whatever I could have reached for moments before. He laughs again before going back to exit my room before stopping and leaning back in,

‘Well, whenever you're done with your ‘Not-Diary’, I need you to come to the front of the ship. We’ve got better visuals on the planet and I need to talk to you about it, alright?”

He says, looking at me expectantly. I quickly nod and make a shooing motion with my hands to get him to leave quickly. He laughs again before leaving me alone in my room once more. Once he leaves, a large smile breaks out on my face, as I bounce lightly with excitement. This is my first ever, real life space recon mission.

After getting into the space program at 16, with a scholarship in science, I’d always wanted to get into recon and the exploration field. I Graduated with honors at age 18, along with Alexander who graduated from ship repairs and navigation, one of the top in his class.

The planet we were headed to was said to show signs of holding valuable resources which I am supposed to gather and bring back with us to earth. Nothing was really known about the planet itself, as no one besides us has ever been this close to it. All that was really known is its size, estimated to be around 1000x bigger than our sun. But since no one knows much about it, we are being paid very handsomely once we get back home in the next year. I can’t wait to see my dad again.

I smile back at the camera,

“Well, as you heard, we are soon approaching the planet, and I am needed for the evaluation. This is Ryan Harte signing out. Love you dad!”

I say before stopping the recording and pressing the send button, to send the message back to earth’s space station, as well as so that they could send it to my dad so he knows everything was okay up here. I never want him to worry about me, so I make sure to record these often.

After sending I quickly jump up, grabbing a simple gray hoodie that had previously been thrown at Alex and throw it over my head before dashing out of the room towards the front of the ship, looking like a kid in a candy store.

My old shoes squeak against the metal as I reach the door, I bounce in place as the door rush’s open and I run inside, almost colliding with Alexander as he looks out at the black space outside the spaceship through the paned glass.

¨Present!¨ I say out loud, with a big smile on my face, causing him to roll his eyes. He motions over to the planet, and I look over to see that we’ve gotten considerably closer to it. We’re still around 2-3 days away from getting close enough to be able to dispatch my shuttle and collect parts of the large gray planet’s resources. Even so, it's already around 9000x bigger than our ship, considering our ship is about the size of a normal sized university, having to hold enough food to feed us for the to and from trips.

“Whoa.” I say mostly to myself, and Alexander nods along with me.

He points to a lighter gray spot on the planet, “I can’t seem to get a proper scan on the planet due to the storm like clouds surrounding it, but from what I can get, that area should be the safest place for you to land. I’m going to re-route slightly to get us closer to that area, I just wanted to let you know. That okay, pipsqueak?” He says looking back at me.

I nod quickly, my excitement not faltering.

“But why is that area safer?” I ask, just to feed my curiosity.

He explains that the area seems to be more flat than the other areas on the planet, making it easier for my shuttle to land on, along with the fact that the other, darker areas, seem to be covered with a type of dark and cloudy sky that might cause trouble with communication and engines when entering the atmosphere.

I of course, have no idea what he’s saying but nod along anyways. It probably wasn’t important anyways.

After his little safety spiel that I’ve heard a hundred times, we decide that it’s time for dinner. We made it a tradition when we started our space travel to eat dinner together as a bonding exercise, as well as to help to know each other. Now it’s just become a daily thing we do every ‘night’, to just talk and hang out. It’s not much, but when the other person with you is the only person you’ve had human interactions with for the past 2 years, you learn to appreciate it.

We walk down and make it to the ‘lobby’ where we eat, which is just an empty room with a table and two chairs melded to the ground. Bland but it works, though I wish the space program would get us better chairs.

Alexander goes and grabs our dinner, dehydrated pork and some yellow stuff I don’t bother asking about, as we talk about our days while occasionally teasing and making fun of each other. We laugh and joke around before cleaning up, saying our goodnights and getting ready for bed.

Alexander stops me before I can leave and re-explains the safety measures, protocols and blah blah blah about the exploration in a few days. I wave him off, laughing, before heading up to my room to go to bed.

As I enter, I stretch, letting out a yawn as I kick off my shoes, not caring where they go. I walk over and check my tablet to make sure my last message went through. It did, but it hasn’t been seen yet. Darn, I was hoping I would get another message from my dad, but I guess I’ll get it tomorrow.

I mess up my hair with both of my hands before getting into bed, the thoughts of finally getting to go to the planet we had been heading to for the last years and being able to finally go home and see my dad fill my mind as I quickly fall asleep.

The next few days go by in a blur, until I’m standing in the cockpit, struggling to pull on my gray space suit. Alexander sighs before helping me put it on, scolding me like a parent about taking this more serious. I roll my eyes, punching him in the arm before telling him that I’ll be okay.

He nods at me once before saying a goodbye as he walks towards the door to head to the main control center. I pause before running up and hugging him from behind, assuring him that I’ll be back before he knows it. He smiles at me, patting me on the head, before taking my helmet out of my arms and shoving it on my head. I whine as I have to adjust it and hear him laugh quietly to himself as he exits the room, door closing behind him. I roll my eyes as I make my way towards, and into, the shuttle prepared. I close the hatch and get comfortable, checking the ship over before booting up the power.

The keypad lights up around me, glowing white as I flip through the proper equipment and procedures to ensure the ship operates properly, while waiting for further instructions from above.

As if on cue, I hear Alexander's voice through my helmet,

“Everything in check down there, pipsqueak?”

I roll my eyes for what feels like the millionth time as I sit back and strap into my chair, ready to finally get off this stupid main ship for once.

“All good down here, we ready to go, Tarzan?”

I ask back, making fun of his long hair, as he confirms and the ship starts up. I can feel the rumble of the engine as the ship is lowered into position and I take a deep breath, still talking to Alexander to make sure everything is ready.

We count back from ten at the hatch in front of my ship, leading into space begins to open.

Once we get to zero, I can see the large planet in front of me and the engines push me forward and out of the ship, plunging me into the dark vast of space. I lock my focus on the planet as I take control of the wheel and steer towards the area told to me by Alexander.

I can see the cloudy, storm like area around the planet, making sure to avoid the darker areas.

Once I seem to be going in the right direction, I set it into autopilot and relax my posture.

“Hey, once we get back home, wanna hang out? I know this greeeeat Mexican place near my house, you’d love it.”

I say out of the blue and here my college chuckle, “Yeah yeah, Of course. But you’re paying, pipsqueak.” He says through the comms and I let out a dramatic and offended gasp while laughing.

“What, I gotta pay you to hang out with me? I’m hurt Al, really. Here I was thinking we were friends, guess not.” I say through giggles, and I can hear Alexander laughing as well.

I can see the planet coming closer and move the steering accordingly for the best entry, making sure to soften the engines so I don’t enter the atmosphere too quickly and burn up the ship.

“Yeah well, You can’t just i##ite some##e o# #### e##p-”

I furrow my brows as he talks, unable to make out what he’s saying.

“Hey Al, you’re cutting out. Is everything okay up there?” I ask with clear worry in my voice.

Just then the power to my ship flashes off before coming back on and the engine buffers, causing me to jolt forward in my seat. I call out again to Alex, but only hear muffled static through the comms, worrying the crap out of me. I try tapping the side of my helmet to see if I can get it to come back on.

“Alexander, are you there? You’re freaking me out, what’s going on?”

I ask out again, as my ship continues towards the unknown planet. The ship shuts off and I lurch forward again before the ship comes back on, causing me to panic slightly. I check my vitals and the ship's hardware to check for malfunctions quickly, to see if I can find out what’s happening.

“RYAN? RYAN CAN YOU H##E ME?!”

I hear Alex yell through the comms, causing me to jump in my seat and respond immediately,

“Hey, yeah I can hear you now. What’s going on, my ships freaking out…”

I can hear his shaky voice, which causes my panic to rise.

“Look Ryan, you need to listen very carefully to me alright? Whatever's going on with the planet is messing with the tech on the ship and screwing up the comms. I don’t think it’s safe, you need to come back this instant so we can re-think and re-evaluate this, okay?”

“Y-Yeah, alright I’ll turn around now.”

I say quickly, quietly panicking as I reach to flip off the autopilot. I realize how close I am to the outer edge of the planet now, along with the storm, and reach to grab a hold of the steering wheel but the ship lurches forward again before I can grab it and the power shuts off for a final time, turning off the engines, along with any and all different functions of the ship.

I freeze, my breathing shallow, as I try to process what just happened. I reach slowly and yank at the steering wheel, trying to see if it would move the ship. No give. I try to turn on backup power. Nothing. But besides that, the new realization that dawns on me causes my heart to pick up and the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up…

The ship is still moving towards the planet.

I get over my initial shock and start trying to talk to Alex again,

“ALEX, I CAN’T CONTROL THE SHIP. I’M MOVING TOWARDS THE PLANET!”

I can hear shuffling of papers through the comms,

“Ryan, the gravitational pull of the planet is pulling the ship in, is there any way to get it to turn around?!”

I can hear his breathing, it’s steady but shallow, like he’s trying to stay calm, for my sake and his.

“No-NO, there’s no controls! I’VE LOST ALL POWER!”

The ship lurches forward as I near the dark gray clouds, the ship almost at the point where it could touch them.

“DID YOU TRY THE BACKUP POWER?!”

“OF COURSE I TRIED THE BACKUP POWER!”

I wait a few seconds and tears prick in my eyes when Alexander doesn’t say anything and I call out for him again, telling him not to stop talking.

“Alright, just calm down Ryan. Your ship is too far away to grab with the retractable arm, I don’t know how to get you back to the ship in time. I can’t even get the main ship close to you without risking it being pulled in too. Maybe we could try a##atc#i## the el#c#tical cab### ## #### ###-”

His audio cuts out completely.

“Nononono, Alex come on, YOU CAN’T DO THIS RIGHT NOW, PLEASE!”

The ship is pulled into the clouds as I lose sight of the home ship and any hope of getting home. The ship is shaken harshly and I’m thrown out of my seat and onto the ground, cracking my helmet on the wall of the shuttle, causing it to crack. I suddenly feel this floating sensation in my stomach, my body feeling as if it’s weightless, until I look back out the windshield. The ship is falling. Fast.

All I remember was the sound of the windshield shattering and the heat surrounding me before the shuttle had plummeted to the ground, hitting the rock below with the full force of whatever gravity this planet went by, as pain fills my body and I black out.

I feel cold. And warm…. And wet…..

What happened…..

My head hurts…. My chest hurts….

A sudden pressure is put on my chest causing me to let out a loud whimper and the pressure is immediately retracted. I let out a shaky sigh and try to move, causing pain to shoot through my body and I let out another pained whimper.

What happened….? Why does everything hurt…? What’s that weird noise, it sounds like a dolphin…. Or a bird…. Maybe a cat….

I can’t keep my thoughts straight, everything hurts. What do I remember-?

The crash, the ship malfunctioning, the unknown planet…. Shit-

Another pressure is put on my chest again a few seconds later, touching a rib that is most certainly broken and I let out a surprised and pained gasp, causing it to go away again.

I try opening my eyes, finding the simple task to be, well, less than simple. My eyes seem focused on staying shut, but I need to see what’s happening. Am I dead? No, I don’t think ghosts feel pain…. Do they? That would be kinda cool though. Space ghost.

I try opening my eyes again, being able to open them a crack as light floods my vision, causing my eyes to tear up and close again. Wait, light? Wasn’t this planet covered in a dark perma-storm? Where’s the light coming from?

I hear some rumbling from above me, kinda like the sound my cat Rosco back home makes when he’s worried about something, a mix between a purr and a growl.

Could it be my ship's engine? Wait, if it’s still active, it could explode!

I use all my strength to push myself into a sideways sitting position, while forcing my eyes open once again. The light hurts them and I let out a groan as I feel the numbing pain throughout my body. Suddenly the light is covered and I’m surrounded by a nice shadow. My brains too jumbled to pay attention to it at the moment, but what I do realize is that a large portion of my helmet around my left eye has broken off.

HOW THE FUCK AM I BREATHING?!

Does this planet really have breathable air? Does that mean there’s some type of plants that can produce the same kind of air on earth? And a sun? We didn’t see any type of sun on the reading when we scanned the planet...

I take in a deep breath to test it. It feels like normal air, and it’s keeping me alive, I can ask questions later, once I get my bearing and stand up. Maybe I can contact Alex. ALEXANDER! He must be so worried, and my dad? He’s going to lose his mind! I have to get to my ship, even if it’s destroyed I could see if I could use the parts to fix my comms and get in contact with the main ship or even the space station if I’m lucky.

I try to push myself up more, managing to move one leg up so I’m in a night's kneeling position. The pain is bad, and I let out another whimper. As I do I can feel a rush of air surround me, it’s warm. I can see the ground underneath me, seeming to be a kind of gray rock, mainly flat, meaning I did technically land where I was supposed to, although I can see that my knees don’t look great, both being skinned and bleeding, but it doesn’t feel too bad.

Another rush of air, closer to my head, followed by a low growl, causing me to turn my head upwards to see what’s causing it. My eyes widen and my breath catches in my throat, unable to breath, as I see four glowing blue eyes staring right back at me, like it’s looking right through my soul.

Not only that but the eyes are huge…. And predatory, looking at me as if I was something it just caught…

I stumble backwards falling onto my butt, cushioned by the intact space suit still surrounding me. I finally let out a scared, shaky breath, realizing that I had been holding it moments ago. The creature's gaze doesn't falter, if anything it hardens, letting out a predatory grumble, as if a warning, though I’m not exactly sure what that warning is for, causing me to freeze in place, adrenaline coursing through my veins causing my hands to feel like ice.

The creature is large, covered in a black fur in most of its body, some parts having less of it. It stands tall- scratch that, it’s fucking huge, the size of a small apartment building. It’s ‘arms’ are long, bent in a way that a monkeys would, reminding me of a baboon. Four large spider-like eyes are still locked on me and I force myself to make no sudden movements, tears welling up in fear as I start hyperventilating, unable to focus as I direct my vision towards the ground, not wanting to make eye contact with it. If I had, I would have noticed it’s head turning in a confused manner, like a puppy would when hearing a strange noise, and the curious way it’s slowly making its way towards me, as if not trying to frighten me more than I already am.

Once I feel it getting closer I look back up to see it slowly moving towards me, and I slowly scoot back to counter it. Just then it moves to put a hand behind me causing the ground to shake lightly, stopping me from moving away again. I let out a pathetic whine, before realizing the creatures face was now meters from mine, not noticing earlier that it had moved it’s face down to get to my level. It gets even closer and my eyes widen in horror and fear, tears running freely down my face at this point, and I try to move as far back as I can without touching the creature's hand.

It stops its movements, and holds its position, around two meters from me. I hold eye contact, not wanting to look away and have it come closer again. It also holds the stare, before I see its gaze flicker upwards slightly, focusing on something else. My helmet?

It looks back into the one hole in my helmet, at me, before it’s gaze in back at the top of the helmet.

All of a sudden I felt something touch the back of my helmet harshly, and I let out a surprised noise as I turned around to see the hand from earlier had moved so it could poke me with one of its long, bony fingers. I start moving away from it, while unconsciously moving closer to the monster that was in front of me.

I feel another wave of hot air hit me from behind, as if it’s the creature's subtle way of telling me it’s still there. I jump slightly, and turn around again to face it. It’s now on the ground for the most part, one arm wrapped behind me and one... in the air… Like the position a cat would make when playing with a feathery toy or a mouse it just caught.

And I’m pretty sure I am that mouse.

I see the hand from the air start coming towards me, and I use my arms to try and cover my face the best I can, letting out a choked sob and whimper as I brace for the impact, for the pain of the hand coming and crushing my body.

But it doesn't come.

I look back up to see two of it’s five fingers positioned on either side of my helmet, before they close and grab lightly onto my helmet. Then they start pulling up, as if to try and disconnect the helmet from the rest of my space suit. Wait-

“Wa-Nononono, Stop it! LET ME GO!”

I yell out, panic taking over my body again as I struggle against its grip. And the creature does stop for a second after hearing my outburst, before pulling upwards again, taking most of my body with it. I’m still touching the ground with my feet as I try and use my hands to hold my helmet in place, not wanting to be even more exposed and vulnerable than I already feel.

I don’t think it feels the same way.

Once the tips of my toes can barely touch the ground, the creature twists its fingers lightly, snapping the thick plastic part that connects my helmet and suit with ease, allowing me to finally fall to the ground with a hard thud, landing on my backside. The collision with the rock causes painful jolts to course through my body and I roll on my side, clutching my chest to try and relieve some of that pain.

The helmet is dropped somewhere near me, landing on the ground with a hard thud, the sound of the rest of the glass frame shattering. I whimper again as I feel the breath of the beast come closer to me as I try to curl in on myself, as if to make myself smaller, as I screw my eyes shut.

I want to go home….

My hair, now wet with sweat, covers most of my face, bits of blood near my temples where my head had most likely collided with the side of the ship during the crash as well as more tears covering my face as I let out another choked sob.

I open my eyes slightly, only to see one of the monsters fingers coming towards my head, most likely to crush it like a grape. I whimper again, trying to tuck my head into my body, to make myself feel a little less scared and helpless. It doesn’t work.

The creature's finger touches my hair lightly, and I wince at the feeling, its finger tip being about the same size, if not bigger than my head. It holds the gentle and light touch, barley even touching my head at all, before it starts to rub against my scalp lightly. I let out a surprised and shaky breath at the gentle touch, the monster acting as if I’m a piece of glass that could be broken and damaged easily. The quick realization dawns on me that….

It’s petting me.

Like I’m some kind of scared animal.

And it actually feels kinda nice. Rubbing in a small circular motion against my scalp, soothing any former pain that resided there, causing my face to soften its expression at the feeling. It moves its motion slightly towards my face, causing me to whimper quietly. It’s quick to move its finger away to rub the back of my head, as well as my neck in a soothing motion, as if to apologize. Then the vibrations start.

Low, like a cat's purr, which only adds on to the calmness feeling washing over me along with the drowsiness, which I find very concerning as I should be scared, terrified even. But it feels so good… I hadn't had any physical contact with anyone besides light shoves and teasing from Alex for the past few years, making this gentle and almost nurturing gesture feel like heaven.

The purring gets louder and I start to get more tired. The creature seems to take notice of me being more docile and starts getting more bold with its touches. Avoiding my chest, it goes and lightly moves my arms, while still petting me with its other hand. I feel a few pokes to the soft material around my legs before it starts petting my back as well. My eyes start to close even though I’m trying to keep them open. I’m just so tired….

The creature seems to sense my tiredness and I can feel his hand cup my entire back before his other hand stops petting me, as well as the vibrations ceasing, causing me to let out a childish whine, missing the feeling.

It seems to notice my distress and quickly scoops me up in its hand, lifting my whole body carefully into the air. I let out a panicked noise again, struggling against his hand, not expecting to be lifted 100 feet into the air in a matter of seconds.

The creature is quick to pull me into its chest, causing me to pull up against its surprisingly soft, black fur, and the vibrations in its chest start up again almost instantly. I hate to admit it, but the action calms me down immediately, and I subconsciously snuggle against the fur, too tired and hurt to really care about anything besides my own comfort, my old tears dried against its body as it stands there for a few minutes as I continue to doze off before it starts moving, jumbling me slightly, making me clutch onto the giants fur for stability.

It scares me at first, but the purring increases immediately, calming me down quite easily. I notice that we’re heading in the direction of a large, dark gray mountain, surrounded by even larger plant type things in different shades of dark green and blues. I glance at the ground and see the creature is walking slowly on three of it’s four hands, the fourth one holding me. I also notice the tail following up from behind that I didn’t see until now, shaped like a monkeys.

On the ground I can see bits of metal from…. My ship!

I squirm, breaking out of my calm and tired mindset to try and find a way to get to the ground remembering that I need to contact Alex, but the second I try to get out of the hand, its fingers cup tighter around me, caging me against the soft wall and the vibrations become more insistent. They’re not so tight that I can’t move, but they’re very clearly meant to keep me in the creature's hold, as if insisting that I stay put.

I of course don’t listen and continue to try to struggle, earning me a loud growl possessive from above as they stop moving all together. The fingers cup tighter around me, and I stop moving all together, shaking slightly in fear, tears welling up in my eyes again.

I’m held for a few more seconds of not moving…

Then the purring starts again, it’s ‘thumb’ comes up and rubs the top of my head lightly, like re assurance, before being removed and it starts walking again. I try to control my breathing again, now realizing that I’m not getting out of here.

When we get near the mountain, the air surrounding it turns cold causing me to shiver into the vibrating surface. The creature's body quickly heats up to help keep me warm, along with the fur, allows me to lose focus of everything else as my vision fades to black, cuddling up against the warm monster that just technically kidnapped me.

Once I’m out, the creature takes my unconscious body into its home, a cave in the side of the mountain, and rests me against a clear, soft gel like substance to allow me to sleep, as it removes my ripped space suit carefully, making sure not to disturb my sleep. It leaves my clothes on as it takes some sort of blue substance and applies it generously on my wounds and injuries while I sleep, making sure to stay close to keep me warm, before laying next to me like a large cat would, using its hand as a large blanket to make sure I’m warm during the night and so I don’t run away if I wake up before it.

It gives me one last nuzzle against the top of my head, scenting me slightly before purring and falling asleep, holding the tiny baby it found while looking for food, now glad it had gone in the wrong direction, as this cub would have never survived on its own.

They will never let the tiny, scared baby go, not after its mother had clearly abandoned it to die, terrified and injured.

It’s now their baby and they will take care of it.

Forever.

#g/t #g/t writing #alien giant #tiny human #oc #original character #secret shifters #secret santa #fanfic swap #mild fearplay #hurt/comfort #secret shifters 2020

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hoardcloneheadcanons · 4 years ago

Text

Rhack Story P5-Meet Angel

Moxxi's eye's leveled with Rhys's, scanning him.

"So…. let me get this straight. Jack and Nisha were dating,”

"U-huh."

“Then you and Jack were dating.”

“Sure.”

“Then you get closer to him and... Jack introduced you to his daughter?”

Rhys let out a low unnerving chuckle.

It wasn’t a laugh, so much as what a laugh might sound like if you left it in the dark for months on end and it started scratching designs on the cell walls.

“Oooh No… Good Guess, I guess? Like I can see how you would see think that. Like, it gets serious then you introduce your significant other to the kids. Right? That’d be Normal? That’d be sane?

As if Jack could ever be normal.

So Nooo.”

He made some mouth-clicking noises on his cheek as he tried to form his words

“She was in a satellite.”

“There’s no other way to start that, he was keeping her in a fucking SATTELITE!

OH God. Um. As you’ve noticed, she is a siren. And Jack couldn’t control her. And he hates that, but he still loves his little girl, or he thinks he does. So he couldn’t kill her, because he still loves her, but he couldn’t control her so he had to lock her away. In a satellite.

I know I already said that, but it just keeps getting to me that he put her in a prison that wasn’t even on any natural land. It was way out in the middle of space. It was inescapable, she’d have to make her own pod to get out. If that thing blew up she’d have no way of getting out because he wouldn’t leave that amount of escape for her.

I cannot emphasize how much No ONE was supposed to know about her, meeting her was a fluke.

Jack gave me a mission where I was supposed to go inside a pod with a mechanic, and that mechanic was supposed to fix one of our satellites… uh Krios, specifically.

We were taking a weird path to it, it was longer than it should have been, more… arcs. The official reason was that it was supposed to avoid meteor clusters, but that didn’t track. We send our cargo pilots through meteor clusters all the time.

And all we were supposed to do was follow the autopilot to the satellite, fix it up and go back.

And he said that he knew how mechanics liked to cut corners, and he didn’t want the mechanic trying to take a faster path. He wanted us to stay directly on the charted course. If the mechanic tried to take a different path, I was to shoot them in the head.

He gave me an upgrade specifically for the task. It was a gun hidden in my arm. They’d have no way of knowing it was coming.

And at that point I wasn’t sure if he was giving me the task because he trusted me or because I was disposable. I was in a weird place with Jack at the time, It was after the first time I tortured a guy for him. I knew I was a terrible person. And I couldn’t tell if he saw me as competent or disposable.

Because on one hand, I just beat up a guy for him. so maybe he wanted to see if I’d be willing to kill someone for him. On the other, maybe whatever was important enough to kill a mechanic for was important enough to kill me for.

It went great for a bit. The ship moved itself, and I didn’t have to do anything.

It was awkward. The shuttle was about the size of a small room, and the mechanic and I were just sitting on opposing benches across from each other, trying not to make eye contact.

She didn’t like to talk, and I was just staring at a corner. I was trying not to get attached just in case I had to kill her, so I wasn’t very chatty either. It was just a job to her. It was just a job to me too.

But half-way through the autopilot shuts off. Debris is creating a magnetic interference and it’s making the system glitch out.

And the mechanic- she said something like “fine, I guess we’re going to have to go manual."

And I told her “No we have to wait it out. I don’t know the route and the autopilots off."

She told me she knew the route to Krios, that she’s done this repair job before

And I ask her “Do you know the route we were using, or do you know the old faster route? Because we’re only allowed to use the current edition. It’s company policy.”

And as soon as I say that she looked ready to punch me in the face.

“Are you serious? I’m losing money while we sit here. I don’t get paid by the hour I get paid by the job, and I got other jobs to do. My company’s going to be down my throat.”

Hyperion is a client of her company’s. She was an out-of-house contractor.

Anyway, while we’re having that discussion the debris comes flying at us. You know, the debris causing the interference? It’s a trash shuttle, a big one, about the size of the shuttle we’re on. And the lid is pointy. I don’t know why they design them like that but it’s terrifying. and it was partially opening so that robot limbs are leaked through.

I froze. All I could think about was that after spending so much time terrified of Jack, I was going to be killed by a flying trash can.

While I was distracted, the mechanic, whose name I was specifically did not learn, shoved me out of the way, got to the controls, and steered us out of the way of impact.

Trash compactor collided with a meteor that was behind us. Parts flew everywhere and she continued to steer the ship until we were out of the field of scrap.

Then we get a moment to breath, and the auto-pilot turns back on and kilometers off course.

So based on my mission directive, I had to kill her.

And I got as far as readying the gun on my arm before I realize that I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be the guy who killed someone after they saved his life. I’d already done things I regretted for Hyperion, this wasn’t going to be one of them.

Instead, I started panicking. And the mechanic thought I was just freaking out from our near-death experience with the debris.”

Rhys mimicked her dry gravel the best he could.

……

“Dude, we’re out of the debris field. We’re alive, calm down.”

“No you don’t get it, we’re both fucked, we’re both dead. I’m suppose- We’re supposed to be killed if we go off path. Hyperion has too many secrets and they don’t like orders being disobeyed, even dumb ones.”

I remember she took a moment to look at my face to realize my panic was real. That I wasn’t lying.

“Fuck, I can’t change my identity again. My sister just adjusted to her school, we just got stable. I can’t do this again.”

I remember her inhale, how quickly she changed from frustration and fear to solid resolve. I remember her looking into my cybernetic eye with hatred, and I didn’t blame her.

“Fine. Fine. We’ll leave. I guess that’s the only option. I’ll take this shuttle as far as it can go, drop you off on some unknown planet, take my sister, and try to get somewhere safe. It’ll suck to restart again but it’s my only option, so lets go.”

Once she said it I realized that the nearby planet she’d probably drop me on would be here, Pandora. And I had to visualize what it would be like to build a life here. And I had a moment of cold fear where I just considered my options before I realized there was a way where neither of us had to give up our lives.

I put my left hand on her shoulder.

“Wait, maybe there’s another option. The data from the mission logs from the shuttle and my eye are probably going to give us away, but it’s going to have to go through a communication’s satellite first.

I’m going to jam the signal and hopefully the magnetic interference is causing a delay. If I can get to a communication satellite, I can alter the data a little bit to make it look like nothing happened. No one needs to know we got off course. No one needs to lose their job. Your sister doesn’t have to switch schools.”

She looked skeptical, but she was as desperate as I was.

….

So, we drove over to the nearest communication satellite.

or what we thought was the nearest communication satellite.

When we were… six clicks away? 400 meters? I noticed that we were arcing away from the dock we were trying to land on and the mechanic told me she lost control of the shuttle.

She lifted her hands up, and the steering wheel kept turning, no human control, and no autopilot engaged. The control panel was glowing a faint blue, so light you could swear it was some odd reflection from the stars.

And suddenly I got this splitting migraine.

Right now, all I have is glass and this eyepatch. But all the circuitry relating to my old Hyperion-tech eye was tied into my nervous system, all too close to my brain. I’d been getting mild headaches and buzzing in the brain since the start of the magnetic field interference. But when we got close to the satellite it felt like something was drilling into my head.

I keeled over in pain and got dark spots in my vision.

Then, while I was on the floor I heard a female, robotic voice say to me,

“I’m sorry I had to take control of your shuttle. There are turrets attached to the outside of this satellite that I cannot control. They will shoot you if you come closer.

I am sorry for your predicament. I am partially responsible. I am doing my best effort to make amends. I am currently erasing your shuttle’s data systems and your eye’s memory banks to make it look like you were never here. Jack will not find you. It is fine. You need to turn around.”

Do not tell Rita Greene I am here. Knowledge of my existence will only bring harm to the people who possess it. I am sorry I had to contact you, but it was the only way to communicate.”

I didn’t know what I was hearing at the time. The best I could guess was a highly advanced surveillance A.I. that Jack was hiding, and who had power over my tech. I was afraid to disobey her, and eager to believe something had saved me from needing to rebuild my life on Pandora.

Rita was the mechanic whose name I was trying to avoid learning. I verified that the data was altered, and then I lied to her. Told her I was in pain because I was hacking from a distance. She asked me why we lost control, and I said the autopilot must still be glitching. I’m not sure if she believed me. She believed me enough to see if my plan work, I think she trusted I wouldn’t put my own life at risk.

We turned around, fixed the Krios satellite. Went back to Helios, and no one killed us. No one mentioned us breaking any rules.

I waited for days for someone to kill me, to realize I didn’t follow orders and gut me, but it never came. Jack never found out.

That was the first time I met Angel. I thought it would be the last.

I was wrong.

#Tales From the Borderlands #Rhys #Angel #OC #Handsome Jack #Thoughts of Murder #Fanfiction #Borderlands #Why Angel Gets to Live

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roboticspacecase · 4 years ago

Note

BillDip Klance meeting where Bill's taking Dipper on a date to a distant planet and they come across the Paladin couple on a date of their own.

Got a little long, more under the cut lol

“I still can’t believe you know how to fly this thing,” Dipper laughed, holding onto the belt across his chest.

Bill shrugged, his feet propped up on the steering wheel. “Well, when your dad is the commanding officer of a star fleet, you kind of pick this sort of stuff up. And uh, I kind of lied about him knowing of this. I took the keys to this little ship when he wasn’t looking in the break room.”

A loud sigh came from Dipper. “Really? The most romantic date you thought to take me on was in a stolen space ship?” It’s not as though he was shocked, Dipper always knew from the start of their relationship that Bill had a tendency to be a bit of a rule-breaker. But having their date end with a stern talking-to wasn’t going to be fun.

“Oh relax, we can have it back before he even notices that it’s gone. I used to do this all the time when I was like, sixteen and he never caught me back then.”

Dipper believed that about as much as he believed the Earth to be flat, which was, of course, not at all. Living in a society filled to the brim with technology had its perks, but with someone like Bill so close to the dangerous stuff, it was nothing short of a miracle that Earth hadn’t imploded already.

“What planet are we even going to? Please tell me you actually looked up a nice one, I can’t take a repeat of last time. There were so many sand traps and that weird slime made me sick.” Dipper shivered at the memory of the time he and Bill had gone on public transit to some shady stop on an asteroid that had a self-driving cab to a planet that Bill thought would be cool. It turned out to be a planet that no one could really live on because, while interesting to explore, it had very few places to stand without sinking or getting stuck to something.

“I looked this one up, I swear! It’s supposed to have some really interesting carnival going on all the time. People call it the Forever Circus and I thought it sounded pretty cool.” Bill sat up in the pilot’s chair, the leather creaking from his movement. “There it is! See, didn’t take that long to get to and it looks super lively.”

Looking out the window, Dipper could see that there were quite a few people there, the docks in the outer atmosphere were nearly full, and he could see the lights of the docks on the surface lit up as well.

“Alright, this does look promising, I’ll give you that. Just... Promise me the next date will be legal and somewhere safe?” Dipper had his hand on the buckle of his seatbelt, ready to wander off on the planet with Bill the second they found a place to park the ship.

“Promise.” Bill smiled at Dipper then focused on taking the wheel, piloting them to the nearest open place for it.

From the dock, they took a shuttle to the surface. Thankfully, the planet was big enough that the massive amounts of people there didn’t make things too crowded. Dipper could tell that there was an endless amount of things to do there because of the size, and he knew that if they weren’t careful they would stay there for way too long.

“Alright, I made a plan of the stuff we can do, but if you see something that looks like fun, let me know.” Bill paid for the tickets at one of the many booths that they faced off the shuttle, grabbing Dipper’s hand to slap the entry bracelet onto his wrist.”I think we should start with the blasters to see if I can still aim better than you.”

“You have never once been a better aim than me, Bill,” Dipper laughed.

“Oh Pinetree, you’ve wounded me so. Now we have to go and prove who’s right!” Still holding his wrist, Bill dragged Dipper over to one of the many shooting booths. “I’ll go first. Watch and be amazed!”

Bill sat down on one of the stools, next to another human. Seeing humans out on other planets wasn’t too unheard of, but most of the people around them were most definitely not from Earth. The blond paid no mind to the other guy because the round of shooting started soon after he sat down, the two of them going at it as if their lives depended on getting every shot exactly on the bullseye.

Dipper stood behind Bill, cheering him on while the silly music played and the fake bullets rained down on the targets. There was another human next to him, also cheering on the guy he was with. Normally, Dipper would never be very social, but it was always interesting to talk to other humans while away from Earth, just to see why they were there.

“Have you two been here long?” he asked, looking at the man in a red jacket. His hair was jet black and styled short in the front but long in the back, a look Dipper knew he could never pull off but looked cool on the guy.

“Hm? Oh, uh, no, not really. I mean, it’s been about an hour. My... Uh, I guess we’re boyfriends now, but he dragged me here.” The guy looked over at Dipper, ignoring the way his boyfriend and Bill had started to loudly shout at each other about who was the better sharpshooter. “It’s not often we see other humans this far from Earth. I take it you’re with that guy?”

From the corner of his eye, Dipper could see Bill and the other man finishing their round of shooting, only to turn to each other and both demand a rematch after the game told them it was a tie. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

The two of them laugh, the black-haired guy holding out his hand. “I’m Keith. My boyfriend is Lance, who seems to be having... Fun? Over there. I can’t tell if they want to kill each other or if they have some weird bro-understanding.”

“Dipper,” he said, shaking Keith’s hand. “And, knowing Bill, it’s both.”

Bill loudly proclaims a victory over Lance, standing up on the stool and sticking his tongue out. “I win! I knew I could aim better! Dipper, did you see that? I kicked his ass!”

“You barely beat me by one point! And I missed one time because you elbowed me!” Lance got up on his stool, the two of them eye-to-eye. “I just started dating this guy, you’re not about to embarrass me in front of him. We’re going again, this time no cheating!”

Keith shook his head, looking back at the booth behind them. “Want to play a game of toss the ring on the tentacle monster while they do that?”

“Yes, please,” Dipper chuckled, already turning away from the pair of shouting men. They could continue their dates once the two had settled down, but until then Dipper was going to enjoy the carnival and make a new friend, which was what Bill seemed to be doing as well.

#billdip #klance #drabble #my writing #space/future au I guess

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insomniac-dot-ink · 5 years ago

Text

We Deserve a Soft Landing, Love

Genre: wlw sci-fi

Words: 4.6k

Summary: An astronaut on the International Space Station gets a transmission from a girl on a dying ship.

They talk as the radiation increases.

Content Warning: death

2036

Astronauts really weren’t supposed to be alone. Not at the space station, it wasn’t made to run that way, three permanent residence were assigned at all times, and they were rarely alone.

But mistakes happen. A gash the size of her forearm down his side, perfectly round red droplets hanging in the air like ping-pong balls in suspended animation. A face as ashen as the grave and yelling. They never yelled.

Sarah Reyes was chosen for her composed personality, composed in theory, less so in practice. She watched her coworker burst open and heard NASA ringing in her ear: what do you even do with a dead body in space?

But he wasn’t gone yet.

They pressed a template they never had before: cрочный спуск, the Soyuz computer sprang to life, emergency.

NASA kept ringing in her ears. Some young women named Janet was talking to her now and she was talking back.

Rod wasn’t going to make the journey if he went back alone. His eyes were barely open and red blooming droplets still swam around the room like liquid party balloons, Sarah never liked the word helpless.

She looked to Nikolai and told him to ‘get the fuck down there,’ someone needed to take the CRV shuttle down with him. Nikolai’s heavy-lidded eyes studied her, he pursed his lips, and she said it once more in Russian and then again in English.

They secured Rod’s bandage a second time, his fever-warm face a distant star on the horizon. She grabbed onto his hand and told them ‘to get the fuck down there.’

They pressed cрочный спуск, the shuttle launched down with Kazakhstan readying down below, God, they had to be ready.

And she was alone.

Astronauts were not supposed to be alone.

The quiet was just as engulfing as the urgency had been before. Janet had apparently gone to take a break and they were on the sun side of the planet. Sarah started counting. It would take them 3.5 minutes to get back to earth. It would take three days for a shuttle to come back to the station. It would take three hours for the shuttle to be attached to the docking port.

It would take some undisclosed amount of time for them to sort out the politics down below. Astronaut’s don’t just burst open. And Sarah was alone.

She continued as normal, there was nothing else to do, she had at the very least three days to herself, and there was cleaning to do. Maintenance, communication. It turned into four days.

She was talking to a young man named Ted on the telecom now and she was sort of starting to hate young men named Ted. Politics were messier than space and no one was even set up to relieve her yet. NASA was in some sort of limbo and Russia wasn’t talking. Sarah was alone.

It was the sixth day when the shuttle finally launched, a crew of three, Sarah had already forgotten their names, but she would have months to memorize them anyway.

She had turned off the intercom for that day, but didn’t notice the static until later when it started echoing off the hallways like a ghost. Sarah didn’t believe in ghosts, though. No self-respecting scientist believed in ghosts.

They were on the planet side of the sun, dark, alone, dumping heat back into the square hallways through the vents.

Sarah heard the first hush of static in her sleep, strapped down and frowning deeply as she screwed her eyes shut. It felt like she was getting tinnitus. For a moment she refused to wake up, she had to keep to her schedule, or else what the fuck else was she going to have up there.

The static breathed again, and her thoughts broke off and on in starts. Finally, she sat up, after all, they don’t know what to do with dead bodies in space. She ripped her sleeping mask off and cocked her head to the side.

Ssshhhhhh

She squirmed out of her restraints and floated to the side of the room, “It’s probably just Yulia messing with the frequencies planet side,” She muttered to herself mostly just to hear the sound her own raw voice in the dark, “Just Yulia…”

She pulled herself up and out and floated over to the communication bay while passing the wide yawning emptiness of the station. It could technically suit ten people, the size of a five-person house, but apparently, earth was still arguing. Two more days.

Sssshhhhhhh

She sighed and followed the noise; she really wasn’t in the mood for any system malfunctions. She tapped on the screen of the newly installed video chat. It sprang to life with the headquarters of NASA asking who she would like to get a hold of today.

Sarah blinked. But no one had been hailing her.

Sssshhhhhh

She looked around and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. None of the devices in the room were lighting up or winking at her. None of them were making any sounds at all. She scratched the back of her hand and accepted the fact that the noise really wasn’t coming from the central communication room.

Sarah turned around in meaningless circles and then left a message to the NASA night crew that there was a possible technical issue on the ISS. Two days before any crew was set to land, Sarah groaned, and it was just her.

She took deep breaths and pushed herself off toward what she could only assume was the source.

Ssssshhhh

She cringed as she crossed the "unity" room into the Russian side of the station, empty as a ghost town and twice as unnerving. But Sarah didn’t believe in ghosts.

Ssssshh-he-sssshh–ll-ssh-o

“Ah!” She clutched at her heart as something, a voice something, echoed off the halls. She took a deep rasping breath and turned in every which direction.

Ssh, hello? It came again.

Sarah’s mouth hung open and she found herself outside of a room that had been used as an old communication hub. It was a relic from a time back when they had separate ones instead of a “bubble of trust” in the center of the station.

Sarah cocked her head to the side and stared. One of the old radios that was attached to the wall and ingrained in the system was making a soft but distinct buzz. It was grey and had a panel of buttons and a microphone attached to a round speaker. Most of the old pre-2025 devices had been removed or repurposed but this one was intact and felt like she was reaching backward in time itself.

She frowned at it and she knew she should go report this. Houston would want to know one of the 2000 models was acting up.

Shhh-h–ssss

Sarah reached forward and her finger hovered in midair over the panel and her eyes glued to the intercom. There was something, a voice-something, bubbling underneath the static.

And, of course, she did believe in aliens.

Sarah pressed down on a feedback button and wet her lips, she leaned down toward the speaker, “Is someone there?”

She held her breath and watched the blinking red light of the transmitter in the dark center of the room. It had been repurposed several years ago to be another storage room.

She blinked, waited a full minute, and suddenly felt a little silly-- she should really be sleeping right now. Or reporting it. She watched the flickering red light and counted.

60 seconds, 180 seconds, 3 minutes, Sarah was about to take her finger off the feedback button when something responded back with clear articulation.

“Oh, thank God,” Sarah’s mouth fell open. It was a woman. She quickly bent over to reply, but the voice kept going, “Can you hear me? Is someone there? I am Lotte De Vos of the Argus, Landing Mission One, ESA. Can you hear me?”

Sarah gasped, “Oh my god--”

Lotte kept speaking quickly, “We have been pushed out off route and…Can anyone hear me?”

“Yes!” Sarah returned as soon as she found her voice again, perhaps yelling into the speaker a little too loudly, “We thought, I, are you safe? We thought the Argus was lost, what’s your status?”

Sarah did the math in her head, it would take four to five minutes for radio waves to transmit between Earth’s orbit and the Argus. The Jupiter moon’s mission.

“I can’t see our location, but I think I am stranded near the atmosphere of Jupiter, repeat I can see the troposphere…I don’t know where I am.”

“Argus,” Sarah rushed to speak, hoping they could balance out their conversation, “I am Sarah Reyes of the International Space Station, NASA, I can hear you loud and clear. What’s your status?”

She waited. Counting, 60 seconds, 2 minutes, 3 minutes, God, she needed to tell someone about this. But she heard the sharp intake of breath on the other end.

“ISS?” Sarah exhaled as the woman responded, “Thank God, okay, this is Lotte De Vos, reporting again from the Argus. The…the life support system is sustaining itself it looks like but none of the ram’s are responding, I think we’re disconnected from the rockets.”

“Miss De Vos,” Sarah hunched over, “What is the status of the crew? How much oxygen do you have left? What…what happened?” She remembered reading about the Argus a week ago. About the radio silence on the other end of one of the most ambitious human-manned missions into their solar system.

One minute. Two minutes. Three. Four.

“I,” She heard the other astronaut falter, “I have the full amount of oxygen left that we carried with us for the return journey.” She paused and a hitch of static filled the air, “The crew is incapacitated.” The voice said flatly and without inflection, “We were hit with an unexpected projectile and pulled into Jupiter’s orbit, we didn’t calculate the full effect of the mass of the planet on our ship it seems,” She chuckled and it was one of the most surprising sounds Sarah had ever heard, “I guess we are still making scientific discoveries.”

“Do you have your satellite? Where is your telecom? We can--”

The delay continued to confuse their conversation, “--it’s acting like a black hole, we tried to fix the rockets to propel us back to the base on Io but there wasn’t enough power, everyone else,” The young women took a deep shaking breath, “They tried to get back to it without the ship. Some of our jets were still working for the suits.”

“Oh my God,” Sarah whispered.

“It didn’t work.”

Sarah waited, making sure Lotte was finished and the full four to five minutes had passed so Lotte could get Sarah’s message.

She heard another laugh on the other side, “We really need a better system than this. How about we say ‘over’ when we’re done talking?” Sarah’s shoulder’s tensed. The woman sounded so young. “Anyway, to answer your question, our telecom was damaged when the projectile thrust us off course, I just recently jury-rigged this device in order to be picked up on low frequencies.” Sarah nodded and Lotte took an audible breath, “Over.”

Sarah pressed her forehead up against the cool metal of the side-paneling; she cleared her throat, “Lotte,” she said quietly, “Do you need me to contact anyone?” It had taken that crew six years to get to Jupiter’s moons. “Over.”

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut.

She heard the next notes like a deflating balloon, “So you’ve figured it out too?” She said with a controlled tremor to her voice, “Well… I have a few people I would like to message if you could write it down. Over."

Sarah floated to the side of the makeshift storage room and found a pen and paper. She wrote down the woman’s mother’s name, her college professor’s email, and her ex-lover’s phone number.

“Do you want me too,” Sarah cringed, “uh, write down messages for them? For me to say to them. Over.”

She waited, she heard a sigh when the four minutes passed, “Just tell my mom I love her. That sort of thing. Tell the professor I wouldn’t be here without her, I mean, not here, in space, in a bad way, shit, actually don’t tell her that. Tell her that her intro classes are still making freshman wet themselves and I love it.” Sarah laughed.

“And the last one?” Sarah asked as she waited for Lotte to come back to her.

Lotte gave a snort, “Flip her off for me. Maybe subtly infer she’s been skipping arm day and is looking a little noodly. That would make my night. Over.”

Sarah chuckled deeply and it was hard for her to take it all in, she should be writing more down. She should be writing it all down. “You know,” Thoughts ran through Sarah’s head like a speeding stop-and-go traffic jam, “Are the rockets really not working? Because a simple continued jury-rig of the thrusters back to the navigation might, hmm, help.”

The response took longer than usual, “Don’t do this me.” Came the hushed reply, “I’ve tried, Sarah, don’t you think I’ve tried? Whoever you are, from wherever. Don’t do it.”

“Sarah Reyes.” She repeated slowly, blinking into the dark. “I’m from Minneapolis.”

Lotte hummed, “Oh…I’m from Belgium. Ghent. Nice to meet you.”

Sarah’s insides felt like they were turning all over the place, “I’ve been to Belgium, it’s very beautiful.”

“Not underwater yet?” The other girl joked, slightly off time due to the time lapse.

“They’re trying their best,” Sarah said with a sniff, “And they never invented a statute called ‘the Twinkie Law,’ so they did better than my city.”

She heard a strange groan from the other end of the line which made Sarah sit up straight, “I would honestly give anything right now for a twinkie. Anything.”

Sarah ended up laughing, “Alright, top ten food goos and then worst goos, go.”

Lotte made a choking sound, “Nooo, Sarah Reyes, all I want right now is some ripe cherries, a medium rare steak, fuck it, a rare steak, and ten twinkie’s, one for every finger. No goo.”

Sarah was snickering, “Well I want a nice hamburger and maybe a salad with ranch dressing. Kleenexes. Running water.” She smiled to herself, “And a proper toilet.”

The silver sound of a laugh came back from the other end, “Wrong answer! The whole reason I went to space was for suction toilets.”

“Oh no, no, no, come. On.” She said emphatically.

“What we all really need is at least one beer each.” Sarah snorted and Lotte bemoaned, “A margarita, two loggers, some vodka, good vodka, the kind the Russians would give to their moms.” Lotte lamented and Sarah shook her head.

“Why did you go to space then?” She asked fondly to the other end, “It’s the last dry county in humanities jurisdiction Dutch girl.”

Lotte huffed another laugh on the other end, “We’re getting personal now? Well, you first, why are you in space hurtling above the earth developing poor bone mass?”

Sarah let herself float up a little higher and used the next minute to think about her answer, she leaned toward the speaker, “Height.”

The five minutes passed and all that came back was a confused, “What?”

“I gain two and a half inches every time I come up here. Eventually, I figure I’ll hit five feet.”

A loud guffaw came back, “Taller! Of course, but what is that in human measurements?”

Sarah rolled her eyes, “Old habits. 6.3 centimeters and 1.5 meters, happy?”

“Woof,” Lotte barked back cheerily, “They really do bring them in smaller each year. Over.”

Sarah exhaled dramatically, “Back to you then Miss Lotte. How tall are you? And, I don’t know, what’s your favorite, hmm, tea?”

Two minutes, three, four.

“Tea? Boring. Do you know how close Jupiter’s atmosphere is to me right now? Ask me about my childhood nightmares and favorite sex position.” Sarah opened her mouth to respond with a dismissive sniff, but Lotte added quietly at the end, “…it’s mint by the way. Peppermint.”

Sarah smiled and she squeezed her eyes shut for a full minute, “Well, my childhood nightmare was Santa having literal claws and strangling me.” Sarah said good-humoredly as she drummed her fingers on her leg and counted the seconds.

“Is that your favorite position as well?”

“Lotte,” She said with a warning tone and considered turning back around toward the communication hub. The next five minutes left her contemplating if it was a crank call-- Houston did have some annoying interns.

“Strangling is perfectly natural, no need to be ashamed. I did it to my barbie dolls and everything.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, “They really do send them up crazier each year.”

Lotte laughed and it was a strained sound with a tin undertone. Sarah pursed her lips together, “Sarah?” Lotte said, barely audible over the static this time.

“Yeah?” She waited.

“Can you see earth?”

Sarah’s shoulders slumped over and she nodded meaninglessly before taking her finger off the feedback button and floating back over to the observatory. Two hours had passed.

She looked out over a deep brown storm cloud over China, a few glowing tendrils of cities and roads, and the textured darkness of the earth side of the sun. She went back to the transmitter, “We’re over the Bahama’s. It’s blue right now, very, very blue.”

She heard the softest of sounds over the radio, “My haul is made of titanium.” Lotte said carefully, “But I’m not sure if the radio waves will be disturbed by the planet’s magnetic field.”

“Oh.” Sarah said back, squeezing her eyes shut, knowing Lotte was still talking.

“And then the radiation will begin anyway,” Lotte made something that was almost a laugh, “remember those numbers okay? Tell my mom. You know. Tell my teacher I wasn’t going to make it without her, but not in this way. And tell Karen to, you know, fuck off.”

“Wait,” Sarah said breathlessly.

“I’m about to be sucked into the atmosphere, wait a little for me, k? We can see if this mess of a radio might hold up. Just wait a little. Then go tell the world I went out fighting. Fighting aliens or a space octopus, tell them that there are definitely space octopuses and the Argus went down swinging.”

“Okay,” Sarah rasped, holding the button down until the tip of her finger bleached white. “Okay!” She racked her brain for what to say, what eulogy’s people ended with or final lasting sentiments that maybe meant something, “I’ll eat some twinkies for you. Ten. One for each finger.”

Sarah waited. Two minutes. Three minutes. Five. Sarah was shaking, this isn’t what she expected when she woke up that morning. The station orbited into the sun side of the planet. What was she even going to tell Houston? How do you start that report?

Sarah rubbed her stinging eyes, “I’ll put them on my fingers too. Eat them in some Dutch coffee shop and kick your ex in the shins.” She pushed her palms into her eye sockets, “Oh God, oh my God.”

Numbness ran up and down her legs and she floated away from the feedback button. She was still glad she didn’t believe in ghosts-- she really didn’t need this one.

She turned back to exit the room and float to somewhere far away and cold and curl up for a little bit.

Shhh–What’s up loser?!

Sarah jumped and turned around instantaneously, “Lotte?!” She jammed her finger on the transmission button.

“Can you hear me? I can’t see out my window right now, but the magnetism might not be messing with my radio as much as I thought. More discoveries for science, yay. Have them name a cockroach after me or something. Unless, of course, you can’t hear me and this is just, you know, the death chasm I’m speaking into--”

“I can hear you!” Sarah yelled as her finger cramped on the switch, the red light flared like a fog horn. “I can hear you, it’s still working!” She didn’t know why she was excited; this girl was entering into one of the most radioactive places in the solar system, Sarah kept her eyes on the speaker.

A tired exhale answered, “You waited after all.”

Sarah bit her lip, “Yeah. I waited.”

The four minutes felt excruciating, “I figure I have around forty-five minutes… Anyway, if you’re curious, it is incredibly hot. If I didn’t have any decency left I would be naked right now.”

Sarah sniffed, “No one can see you, you know. And I imagine it’s burning up.”

The next transmission was garbled, but she could still make it out, “Dying in the void of space is one thing, dying in the void of space butt-naked is another.”

Sarah couldn’t get herself to laugh this time, but she tried, “Well, I’ll tell everyone you were wearing a full suit of armor. Pearls. Evening gloves. The octopus didn’t stand a chance.”

Lotte made a soft sound, “That’s really all I ask, heels too, I miss heels. I felt tall, like one of those small dogs on top of tables? Or the fact you enjoy getting 5 centimeters taller in space?”

Sarah made an exasperated noise, “I don’t suppose you mock all the people you share last words with.”

Lotte gave a soft chuckle, “Just you darling.” A long pause followed and Sarah didn’t move to fill it; Lotte took her time with another slow hissing breath, “Tell me about something.”

Sarah blinked, “I have a collection of coins from the Ottoman empire.”

“Okay,” Lotte sounded faint, “Who was your first crush? Besides 16th century Sultans or something I mean. What was your first book? What's your favorite kiss? Come on,” Lotte snickered weakly, “I’m dying here.”

Sarah’s skin felt too tight, itching in the dark, “My crush was Martina Rodriquez. Fifth grade, she punched me in the face once after I told her that her that her nose was crooked. I learned to read when I was three so I don’t really remember the books, accelerated learning and all that. I learned to speak in full sentences when I was six. My first kiss was,” Sarah sighed, “Don’t laugh okay? In my college’s chemistry lab, age 23.” She said all of it quickly with pained breaths, time was measured in fours and fives.

A laugh came back from the other side of the universe anyway, “Chemistry lab? God, you’re the one giving astronauts a nerdy name.”

“Hey!”

“And it’s cute. You sound cute. I’m sure you’re very smart too, can probably name way too many numbers of pi.” She could, “I guess I was like that too…Why I’m up here.” Lotte trailed off.

“Why are you up here?” Seven minutes passed.

“I saw Cassiopeia one night… my grandpa told me they hung her upside down in the night sky to punish her. I fell in love,” Sarah clenched her jaw tight, “I guess you could say that’s how it happened. Love or whatever.”

“Lotte--” Sarah put her face next to the speaker.

“You know, I always thought this is what I wanted to do.” Lotte was faltering, “And it is.” She repeated with a slight hysteria and frantic-edge to her words, “I think it was always what I wanted to do. Always.” There came a pause and Sarah heard a strangled retching noise on the other side.

“Lotte!” She yelled into the intercom, “Lotte, are alright?”

It took a very long time before she got a response and then she was back to waiting, “Yeah,” A voice finally said hoarsely, “Just…puking. You know, when you get to see food goo all over again? That feeling.” Lotte sounded like she was trying to laugh, “Sarah?”

“Yeah?”

“Who was this first kiss?” Lotte asked quietly before sniffing, “Was she cuter than me? I hope not… And then, what’s, what’s your favorite tea?”

Sarah squeezed her free hand closed, balling it up into a painful fist and digging her nails in, “No. She was a PhD. student and thought that Potato Poots was a good pet name. She…” Sarah snorted, “Wasn’t cuter than you, promise. My, my, favorite tea is Black tea. I used to drink it with my aunts.”

Two minutes. Three minutes. Six.

“Potato Poots? Take that back, that is a wonderful pet name and now I’m going to date this girl that was your first kiss,” Sarah chuckled, “Black tea is a good choice. The closest one to coffee. My brother owns a coffee shop,” Lotte was talking quickly now, “Visit him too. Tell him…I’m sorry. I’m sorry we fought so much, God, for everything.”

“Yes, yes, I mean--”

“Tell all of them I loved them. Dammit, even Karen, tell her to get her shit together. None of this…none of anything else. Nothing else matters.”

Sarah sighed and her entire body was shaking, “I can do that, yes. Lotte, we won’t forget.”

“That I died naked in the void of space?” Lotte returned back after seven minutes, “Because that’s a thing now.”

“Naked, fighting an octopus, right?” Sarah said with her face straining into a smile.

“Yeah.” Lotte was panting on the other end now, but her voice came through. “Who was your first love, Sarah?”

Sarah felt her mouth go dry, she hadn’t drunk anything in hours. Houston would be furious. “I’ve never been in love.” She whispered back, “I just wanted to do…this.” She flinched at the wording.

Lotte took eight minutes to respond, “Yeah?” She said breathlessly, “Well. Do that for me, k? Being in love is nice. It’s like this, except no one is riding into the next layer of Jupiter’s helium.”

Sarah gave a weak smile, “It’s like this?”

“It’s like this.” Wheezing, “Go do that for me.”

“How’re you feeling?” Sarah tried to get her to keep talking and Lotte told her that she threw up again. Sarah could hear audible strained audible breathing through the speaker, she was gasping.

“We weren’t really over the Bahama’s, were we?”

Sarah frowned and she looked toward where the window would be, “It was dark out, yeah. But the cities were bright. Like stars, we always liked stars, right? People like us.”

“People like us collect Ottoman coins and cover their hands in Twinkies Sarah.”

She smiled, “Good. I hear that’s what being in love is like.”

Lotte coughed, a deep gurgling sound that filled the air, “Sounds dumb.”

“It is.”

Sarah could hear her fading out, “Lotte? Lotte how’re you--”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck--” A sob shook the speaker.

“Lotte.”

“FUCK, I don’t want to die.”

“Wait, wait, no, it’s going to be okay.”

“Quick, tell me something nice to say, something good, God, GOD, I wish I had been good. I wish had been better.”

“Wait! Wait, no.”

“Sarah,” She could hear the crying now, the sickly wet tremor in her voice, “Sarah I can’t see anything. It’s so hot, oh my god, I can’t do this, SARAH-”

Sarah screamed back into the mic, “I’m here! I’m here! Wait!”

No sound came back from the other side, Sarah’s eyes went wide, and she counted up to a thousand. She couldn’t feel her teeth.

“One thousand and four, one thousand and five, Lotte? Lotte De Vos, can you hear me?” Five minutes. Ten minutes.

Sarah curled up into herself and pulled on her hair, her other finger still on the transmission button and the room bathed in the one red light, “Lotte," She blared, "Lotte!” It was a wretched, animalistic scream, but it wasn’t for the radio, it wasn’t for her.

She wished she believed in ghosts.

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

Sarah Reyes went back to earth within the fortnight. She told them she wasn't feeling well. She told them about the Argus. They told her to take some time off, she told them she wasn't coming back.

Sarah went to Belgium, she gave a very nice older woman a hug, she got a lifetime’s promise of free coffee, and she looked at painting after painting done by people she realized were now dead. She smiled at the nice young woman across the street that sold flowers and she didn't say hi, but she did wave this time. It was a place to start. Lotte would have wanted something like that.

FIN

Hey! All my hours were cut at my job bc of coronavirus, if you enjoyed my writing please, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or becoming a patron I could really use the help!

#short story #writing #science fiction #sci fi #wlw #femslash #f/f #lbgt short story #tragedy #cw: character death #I forgot I never put this on my blog

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thewildwaffle · 5 years ago

Text

The Prisoner - Part 2

It was requested that I continue this. So I guess this is what’s happening. Here’s Part 1 if you want to read that. And there’s more with part 3

*****

Garn was uneasy, but his training with the Syndicate overrode any outward expression of fear or other weaknesses. Instead, he channeled his nervous energy into scanning the crowds and shadows for potential threats. That kept him busy because at the Tupiti Port, everyone was a potential threat.

And what’s more, he was 100% sure that by now the Syndicate knew which of their guards had gone rogue and had helped their human prisoner escape. They’d lost any pursuers from the initial escape quite a while ago, but there were only so many spaceports in the accessible area and it was only a matter of time before Garn and Porterstone were tracked down to Tupiti. It was stressful, but Garn funneled that into keeping up a stony facade and remaining vigilant.

The human in question was klern-near prancing around from stall to stall in the market area. Garn had at first adamantly refused to enter the shopping area, knowing full well how easily one could be stalked and attacked with so many places for enemies to hide. However, that hadn’t done anything to stop Porterstone. After a bit of growling, Garn grudgingly followed. He didn’t like being too far away from his new human companion. And anyway, if the Porterstone died, how the frewan was he supposed to get off-world? -If he survived much longer than his new friend for that to even be a concern, that is.

Afterall, what’s logic to a human’s curiosity?

“You know, Garn,” Porterstone pulled him out of his anxious thoughts, “I seem to be getting a lot better deals on what I need with you around.”

“Mmm.” Garn shook his head and went back to scanning their surroundings.

“No, I mean it. It’s like they see you behind me and they pretty much take whatever amount I offer, no matter how much I lowball them.” He gingerly placed his latest purchase into the satchel he had also bought earlier from another booth. “I mean, I know you’ve got the whole ‘big and scary’ thing going on, but I think most of these guys are actually, like, really scared of you.”

“It’s the Syndicate. They see that I’m a Dantum. It’s well known that many of us serve as the Syndicate’s muscle.”

Porterstone turned to walk backwards and looked at Garn as he continued down the walkway. “Wow. There’s really that many of your race in the business that you’ve all a rep? Geeze, it’s not like all of your kind work for the Syndicate, am I right?”

Garn growled quietly. “Every adult. Unless you’ve got the credits or connections to get out.” Porterstone stopped walking and Garn continued past him, effectively taking the lead as the human spun around and bounded after him.

“Wait, Garn! Really? That’s crazy, you’ve got to be-”

He didn’t get to finish that line.

Garn saw the glint of the blaster catch the light and acted as though by instinct. He shoved Porterstone to the ground and ducked behind a table. The stall directly behind where they had just been standing exploded. Screams and terrified yells covered the sound of Garn’s growling commands to Porterstone as he hauled him up and practically carried him through the panicked crowd. He hadn’t gotten a look at the shooter, but whoever they were, they must be incompitent. Not only had they missed their shot, but they had also now just given them the cover they needed to get away.

But get away to where, exactly? Porterstone had said that his team was coming. They were able to send out a signal to them using a backup long distance comm device in the shuttle. They never got a response though before they dumped it and the entire shuttle in a river a few miktreks back. Garn had hoped that would buy them a bit of time before they were tracked and found, but apparently it didn’t get them much. Still, he ran towards the ship docking area. The human now struggling in his arms had been so sure that his friends would come for him. Right now, he just had to hope they actually did come through.

As he ran, he tried to keep behind pillars, dodging and ducking behind whatever cover he could while also trying his best to blend in with the rest of the surging crowd. Alarm lights were flashing and Garn could see armed security running in, though their progress was hampered by trying to go against the current of fleeing market goers. Garn’s large size was not helping as much as he would have hoped. Where normally he was the most frightening thing in a room and people gave him plenty of space, this time he was just another person in a crowd of people running for their lives. He was pushed and shoved, but thankfully his size kept him from being too jostled. He mostly just had to be sure he himself didn’t kill anyone or get Porterstone hurt as they fled.

Another explosion to his left sent the crowd into another uproar. As Garn shielded himself and Porterstone from the flying debris, he stole a glance toward where he thought most likely the shot had come from. Sure enough he saw the assassin. He felt like all the blood in his body drained down to his feet. His eyes caught the flash of the large orbs of an assassin’s goggles. Not just any assassin either. No, he knew those feathers and the smug snout around and under those gold eyepieces. There was only one assassin that was cocky enough to wear gold goggles instead of the typical black or gray.

“Garn, over there!” Without stopping his retreat, Garn tore his eyes away to where Porterstone was pointing. It was the older end of the space dock, usually where the smaller ships could land directly on the tarmac. Just now, an old Bert 3-Class Cruiser was preparing to land. Garn frowned. He hoped that Porterstone just had an affinity for old ships and was pointing it out, and not that that old relic was supposed to be their getaway.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. “That’s them, that’s my crew! They must have figured out what happened and were already on their way!”

While trying to stay alive and out of shot, Garn was too busy to argue or scorn the ship. At this point, it was better than sticking around here. He altered his course slightly to head toward the landing ship, using his bulk to push and shove his way through the crowd. Thankfully, as they entered the docking bay, there was more room as the crowd spread and hid. However, that did leave him more out in the open for a stretch of space before they would actually make it to the ship.

An explosion near his feet sent Garn flying through the air. Porterstone went sprawling on the floor with a loud thud. They both rolled for several lengths before finally coming to a stop. Garn groaned and immediately began assessing the damage. He moved his feet and bent his knees. Good. He tried pushing himself up, but struggled to just manage to roll himself over enough to look up.

On the other side of the bay where they had come from strode the assassin. Her padded feet moved gracefully and slow on the hard floors, unheard even without the renewed yells and screams of other travelers and port patrons. Taloned hands gripped her signature Aruptet Cannon loosely, as if she wasn’t in the middle of trying to kill someone. Her approach seemed to be in slow motion even though she managed to cross the bay in what felt like only a few steps.

“Tsk, tsk Barn, or Garn, or whatever. You sure seem to have made a mess of the place,” her voice was easy and calm, but it still sent shivers. Just like it did every time he’d heard it before.

“Maika,” he growled as he pushed himself up. It took longer than he would have thought it should to get back up to his feet, but surprisingly, she let him. “They sent you out after little ol’ me, huh?”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself,” her jaws clacked slightly as she laughed, “it’s been slow lately and I’ve been bored. That, and you stole a very important human from the Trinn-Harrup Syndicate.” She shook her head, the reflections in her goggles were almost mesmerizing to watch move. “I hope it was worth it. He’s going back with me, and, well, you’re going to die here.”

“You really think so? You’ve already tried shooting me, what? Three times? I thought you were supposed to be the best money could buy?”

Maika took a few leisurely steps to the side, either to attack from the side or to get around Garn and better get at the human. Garn took a crouching position, ready to counter any next move.

“Oh, don’t you worry your velvety little head, I am the best. You should be honored.” Without taking her eyes off him, she tilted her head back towards the chaos in the background. “But what’s the good of being the best if you can’t have a little fun and chaos every now and then, hm? What’s the point of power if you can’t remind others why you’re the one who has it?”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Garn growled. There were a lot of reasons he didn’t like the Syndicate’s favorite assassin. He liked her even less now that he was on the other side of a job. “I think you missed the first shot and have been missing the others to cover your mistake. It’s just a show. I guess the whispers were true. You’re getting old, starting to lose your touch.”

Maika glared at him and aimed her cannon directly at his chest. Before she could fire, a chunk of purple crystal flew through the air from behind Garn and hit Maika at the base of her neck. Where had that come from? Garn shot a look behind him. Had Porterstone thrown that?!? He could do that?!?

With a pained grunt, Maika staggered back and her shot went wild. An explosion rocked the ceiling and made the lights across the bay flicker. Garn lept at her and tore the gun from her hands and spun her around quickly and let go. She flew several lengths and hit the ground hard.

“Garn, lookout!” Porterstone yelled from behind. Garn looked. Security had finally showed up, and lucky him, he was now the one holding a very big, very dangerous-looking weapon. Great. He paused for only a moment. He had never liked hurting people, especially those who weren’t part of the immediate job or mission, but there was no way he was going to get stopped by security now. He might as well walk back to the Syndicate Headquarters himself, because that’s where he’d end up. With only the smallest pause to decide, he aimed and fired. The explosion went off only half a length in front of the approaching guards. It knocked a few in the front to their feet. A few directly behind tripped over them. That would slow them down.

The ship had completely landed and the boarding ramps were deploying. Garn turned and ran behind Porterstone towards it. They were almost there when Porterstone yelled out in pain and dropped to the ground. Garn had to jump over him to avoid running him over and skidded to a stop. His friend was curled up on the floor, clutching at his bleeding leg, a small throwing knife embedded in the flesh below the knee.

“Enough of this,” Maika sneered as she rose back up to her feet and hobbled toward them. “You’re not going anywhere unless I or the Trinn-Harrups say you can. And you,” she looked to Garn and pulled out another knife, “I only wish I had more time to kill you slowly, you filthy traito-”

Before she could finish her sentence, orange blaster fire shot at her from behind Garn and sent her yet again to the ground. This time, it looked like she’d stay down.

A short, four-armed robot- a Kloxan by the look of it- ran to Porterstone, sliding down onto his knees as they assessed the damage. They must have come from the ship. As Garn turned to look at the open door, he found himself looking down the barrel of the blaster that must have just been used on Maika. The human holding it had darker skin than Porterstone, and even fiercer eyes. Garn froze.

“Kaya,” Porterstone called out with clenched teeth. Garn didn’t dare turn his head around to look at him, but tried to see how his friend was from his peripheral. “Good timing getting here. Argh!” The Kloxan helping him had pulled at the knife, but must have thought better of taking it out just yet.” Garn clenched his fists. First Nebbilin toxin earlier, now he’d been stabbed in the leg! He was starting to wonder just how much damage his new human friend could take in one solar cycle! He hoped humans were as tough and hardy as their reputation claimed they were.

“Kaya,” the robot called out, “I need help getting him aboard!”

Kaya looked between them and Garn, obviously not wanting to put down the weapon with him so close by.

“It’s okay,” Porterstone wheezed. “That’s Garn. He’s with me, he’s good.”

There was only a momentary pause before Kaya nodded, holstered the weapon and ran to help Porterstone and the Kloxan. Hoping to help show the newcomers that he was indeed “good,” he offered to help carry him aboard. Well, actually to carry him aboard, he didn’t exactly need help.

The moment the ship’s doors closed behind them, the ship took off. Garn faltered only slightly at the sudden movement. The ship itself was surprisingly roomy despite its age and build. Someone had done some serious remodeling to it.

“Set him down over here,” the Kloxan pointed towards a bench. Just then the ship jolted. The Kloxan was able to secure himself with its extra arms against the wall and Garn’s side.

Kaya grunted as the ship continued to weave and shudder. “Now’s not the time for Embry to be practicing her getaway flying. Tig, trade spots with her and tell her to bring her first aid kit,” the human Kaya let go of the counter she’d been holding on to. “Take the wheel and get us out of here.”

The Kloxan nodded and hustled off. Garn set Porterstone down on the bench and although he tried to be careful, he could see the human flinch a bit.

“Sorry,” Garn muttered softly. Well, as softly as he could. Dantums weren’t exactly known for being soft-spoken and quiet.

Kaya must have obviously heard it and made a short but loud exhaling noise. “Don’t apologize to him, I’m sure the events that led to whatever the heck was going on back there was all his fault.” She circled around to get a good look at both of them. “Speaking of which, Porter, as soon as Embry gets in here and gets you patched up, you’re going to tell me where exactly the hell you’ve been for the past week and a half.”

Part 3

#humans are weird #space orcs #aliens #garn #porter #space #writeblr #might continue this #but i'm not sure what to do with it #any ideas?

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kylos-bens · 4 years ago

Text

Mistakes Like This ↠ Obi-Wan Kenobi (Obi-Wan x Reader) Chapter 6

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ only!!!!! plz scroll away and shield your eyes dkdkdkdk.

Masterlist

Chapter 7

Tags: @blondekel77 @jediknight-22 @wellhellothere1002

Just as you expected the Council had ordered you and Obi-Wan to the next mission. They had to get you away from making any more mistakes. Now the ship was set for the planet of Vewiku. When you heard about the news you stopped seeing Obi-Wan around. Now that the mission was officially over the little promise you made together is done. Honestly, you felt that it was Obi-Wan that tried his best to avoid you and not the other way around. On top of that, you were frustrated that your mission is a security escort for an ambassador. You hated these kinds of assignments because the days felt like they dragged on and whenever you were assigned to one it would always bore you to death with all the meetings and briefings.

The quarters have been empty for a while now and Obi-Wan has not retired since leaving Darilia. While you meditated you felt around for his force and it was so muted like he wasn't even on the ship. The doors opened and you turned around immediately hoping to see Obi-Wan but it was one of the protocol droids. "Hello, I am J-3PO! I have your assignment instructions," the droid stood at the doorway and you sighed.

"Hello," you got up and dusted off your robes. "Let's hear it then."

There was so much tension when the ship was docking since Obi-Wan decided to finally make an appearance. This was worse than before and he couldn't even look at you. You frowned as the both of you walked down the ramp and onto the landing pad. There was an audience and it made you uncomfortable with how many people were there. You weren't expecting this size of a crowd and it honestly defeats the purpose of why you were here. "What is all of this?" You whispered to Obi-Wan.

"They are excited to see Jedi," he replies. There were a few near-humans who stepped up and greeted the both of you. You assumed they were the ones you had to make contact with and you bowed following the actions of Obi-Wan.

"Welcome to Vewiku City," it was a woman who was dressed in all black that addressed the two of you. "My name is Odrella Vah. I will be your guide." She had human features but there were these striations on her face that appeared to change from a light pink to neutral skin color. The protocol droid as you recalled told you about their species. Those marks are connected to their circulatory system and would change in color when they were under stress or feeling hot. Her platinum hair was twisted into a braid around her head and you can see a red ribbon twisting through it.

"It is a pleasure for us to be here with you!" you smiled and she returned the gesture.

"You must excuse the crowds that came today. It's just new spreads fast here and it's been years since we have seen a Jedi," she smiles and the striations on her face turned slightly pink. It would be very easy to tell the mood of these people you thought to yourself. "Now we have two Jedi." She guides you and Obi-Wan with the rest of her group trailing behind her. The guards and clones held back the curious crowd and you were looking around getting a feel for the people. Many of them were the same near-human species as Odrella with the striations on their faces. They all were excited and you see that clearly on their markings. There were also a few alien species you were familiar and unfamiliar with. "The whole city has been buzzing because we are having a ball," she looked over her shoulder at you.

"Yes, we were briefed about that," you nod and glanced over at Obi-Wan who has been silent. "

"Yann Threl is excited to meet the both of you," Odrella lead the group onto a shuttle. "It is his first assignment after being promoted to an ambassador." That was the name you were waiting to hear. The high-ranking official had numerous assassination attempts since his promotion and he is to be escorted out of Vewiku as soon as possible. The briefings with the Council didn't elucidate why he is a target but Neo and you were guessing he owed lots of money here on Vewiku.

The ride to the castle was a smooth one and Obi-Wan was speaking with the guards the entire time. Odrella explained different sectors in the city. There was shipbuilding, farming, and living sectors. The ship landed in the shipbuilding sector so you were able to see the different levels. It reminded you of Coruscant but on a smaller scale. You were excited to see the farming sector because you thought it would be the typical farmland scenery but it was not. Buildings were covered in greenery and Ordella explained since the planet lacked resources they resorted to vertical farming instead. You looked in awe out the shuttle window and in the reflection of the glass you saw Obi-Wan watching you. He turned away once he saw you looking directly at him.

Once the shuttle moved into the living sector you were shocked to see the infrastructure. Everything looked so pristine and clean. There were so many people walking around and some kids playing waved at you. You smiled and gave a smile back. They reminded you of the Younglings back home and you missed them dearly.

The shuttle moved on to the gates of the castle. As they opened Ordella rose up from her seat and stood by the door. "Here we are!" Ordella exclaimed. Obi-Wan let you walk ahead of him and you followed Ordella. The guards walked beside you like you were the one that needs to be protected. You looked up at the castle and it didn't look too imposing or intimidating to you. It was pleasing to look at with its soft neutral colors and a little overgrowth of plants.

It wasn't long till you were finally inside and waiting in some kind of chambers with Obi-Wan. Ordella went to get Yann and his other guards. "This is definitely not my style," you were sitting on a cushion and watched Obi-Wan pace around. This specific room was decked out in different tapestries and everything was over the top.

"Really?" he looked under the large table at the center of the room. "I thought you would like it."

"It feels claustrophobic," you looked at your boots. They were polished and you can see your reflection on them.

"It's because I'm here," he stood up straight and you glanced up at him. Before you can say anything the doors opened and Ordella appeared with guards behind her and who you assumed was Yann Threl. You got up and bowed along with Obi-Wan. Once you lifted your head you immediately saw the darker shade of blue-green eyes staring back at you. Just like Ordella he had striations on his face that were actually a deep pink shade right at that moment. His brown hair was cropped short and combed neatly back. Yann's full lips formed into a smirk as you avert your eyes from him. He must only be a few years younger than Obi-Wan.

"I'm so happy to finally meet both of you," Yann went to shake Obi-Wan's hand first and then to you. His hand clasped around yours and he held onto it a moment longer even Obi-Wan glanced at it. "I trust the both of you can keep me safe with the remaining time we have here and on our travel." You observed the ambassador and you wondered why a man of his size was not intimidated by others. He looks more built than his other guards.

"We can assure you that you are in safe hands, Ambassador," Obi-Wan slips his hands into the sleeves of his robe and you lingered farther away from the group. The ambassador was staring you down and you stared right back at him. It was his turn to look away with a smile. The striations on his face turned bloodshot and you rolled your eyes. Obi-Wan cleared his throat and stood by you."I will be in charge of the security team."

"I will be by your side at all times," you spoke up.

"Wonderful," Yann sat down and stretched out his legs. "Ordella I feel safer already." She nods and then looked over to you and Obi-Wan.

"I will see you both soon. Your quarters have been prepared. The rooms are adjacent to the ambassador so if anything were to happen you're right there. Aira will be around if you need any assistance," Ordella smiled before bowing to the both of you and then to the ambassador. She leaves the room and you see that there were guards stationed right outside.

"Both of you should sit. I'd like to get to know you first," Yann gestured to the seats in front of him. Obi-Wan went on ahead and sat down while you took a while to follow in suit. You felt Obi-Wan's force surrounding you and you tried pushing that away. He's been confining it on the ship and now he wants to hog up your space. "As you probably both know there have been three failed assassination attempts on me." Yann starts off and you nod. "I will be honest. I have no idea as to why I suddenly became a target. I made no enemies in government." You became distracted as he continued to speak about other reasons and your focus was suddenly on Obi-Wan's hands. He was no longer wearing his gloves and you can see his masculine hands placed on the handle of the seat. While he spoke he would tighten and loosen his grip on the handle. All you could think about was the night on Darilia.

"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan looked over at you with concern sketched all over his face. He got up and you raised a hand.

"I'm fine," you wave him down so he does sit back.

"The travel must have been exhausting I should ask for our meal to be prepared," Yann leaned over and placed a hand on your knee.

It wasn't long till you were escorting Yann back to his suite along with two other guards. The dinner has been prepared and Obi-Wan went on ahead to double check the room. "You are very pretty for a Jedi," Yann glanced quickly while you walked down the long halls.

"Thank you but you'd be surprise I'm not the only one," you replied. He chuckled and sighed before stopping in front of a door.

"Well here we are General," he looked at you and opened the door. Obi-Wan was standing inside with his hands behind his back. He gives you a nod and you stepped to the side so Yann can walk in.

"Everything is clear," Obi-Wan announced and you smell all the good food that was prepared on the table. It has been so long since you had a meal like this and your mouth was watering. Yann went to stand at the head of the table and he motioned for you to sit next to him. Obi-Wan was seated further away as Yann's other guards sat at the table.

"I hope you don't mind. I allow some of my guards to dine with me. Keeps me company since this job has been very lonely," Yann sits down and you do the same.

"That's fine," you say and there was only the sound of the clinking of utensils and glass. You didn't know what to eat first because a lot of the things prepared were unfamiliar to you but there was one thing you wanted to try. They looked like red jewels in a bowl but you assumed it was fruit and when you reached for it Yann also did. "I'm sorry." You withdrew your hand and he smiled. The ambassador scooped the fruit and placed some on your plate.

"These are my favorites. I hope you like them too," he grinned. You nod and looked at the other food where Obi-Wan was sitting by and you see him tossing his food around on his plate. You start to eat first with the fruit and you loved the taste. There was silence as everyone filled themselves up with food. Obi-Wan was the only one who wasn't eating and it bothered you. He probably has not eaten or slept in days. On the way here he never showed up for the small meals."So you were General Kenobi's Padawan?"

"Yes. Not so long ago," you looked at Yann and then to Obi-Wan.

"How does it feel to go on missions with your former master? Do you feel like it is just another lesson for you?" Yann poured himself another glass of some dark purple liquid.

"It feels familiar like I am going on another learning expedition but I definitely feel I have more independence," you break off a piece of bread.

"No more lectures I assume?" Yann smiled.

"Oh sometimes he still thinks I'm a Padawan and he would go on and on," you glanced at Obi-Wan and he has a small smile behind that beard of his.

"And what about you General Kenobi," Yann turned his attention to him. "Do you still see her as your Padawan?"

"No I see her as a powerful Jedi Knight," Obi-Wan had his eyes on you. "My equal." Your eye contact lasted longer than you expected that Yann had to clear his throat.

"That's touching," Yann clasped his hands together and you looked back down at your plate. What Obi-Wan said had your heart racing fast and you were thankful that you had no striations on your face that would give you away.

There was more conversation for an hour or so. It bored you but you had to be there. Yann kept on making side comments towards you which you would give a remark in return. Obi-Wan kept his conversations short as he also was not in the mood but he was respectful enough to carry on. The guards had already left the table and returned to their stations. "I must retire now," Yann stood up and downed the drink in his glass. "I did enjoy our first evening together. I hope from now on everything can run smoothly. Goodnight." He bows his head and leaves to go into his quarters. Two guards followed him and Obi-Wan watched as they scanned the room and cleared it.

It was just the two of you in the dining area and the silence was even heavier now. A droid came around to start clearing the table and Obi-Wan got up and sat closer to you. "I didn't see you eat a thing," you said without looking at him.

"I lost my appetite," he crossed his arms.

"So. . .you're avoiding me now," you turned to him and he tensed up.

"I'm giving you space. That's what I'm doing," he whispered. "You said we forget about what happened after Darilia." That hurt you a little bit and he looked at you quickly. "Tell me isn't that what you asked me?"

"I did," you dig your nails into your palms. You knew this would happen. Once you got a taste of what it is like to be with him you could never let it go. Right now you just wanted to embrace him and feel his kiss again. "I didn't expect you to feel so cold and shut me out."

"I'm doing this to control myself," he replied softly.

"How is it working for you?" you slipped your hands into the sleeves of your robes.

"Difficult especially since the ambassador is making advances on you," he looked back at the door to Yann's quarters.

"Oh, so you noticed," you laughed a little. Then it was quiet again. He reached over and touched your knee and it gave you goosebumps.

"Be careful with him," he says.

"You're jealous Obi-Wan," you whispered. "I can sense it." He squeezed your knee and you placed a hand over his. Obi-Wan leaned closer to you and placed a kiss on your forehead.

"Get some rest. I'll take your first watch for you," he takes his hand away from you and you get up. "We should change the deal. Once we go back to Coruscant we stop this." You stopped in your tracks.

"We can do that," you say before leaving him there to think about what you guys are getting yourselves into.

You were meditating because you were having trouble sleeping and because you were thinking about what he proposed. He knows damn well that both of you aren't going to be back on Coruscant for a while. The longer this is going on the deeper you bury yourself in this situation. It was so tempting you had to say yes but now thinking about it you want to take it back and just do what he's doing. Give each other space and have minimal contact with one another. You opened your eyes once you realized someone was right outside your door. The door unlocks and you feel Obi-Wan at the entrance. "What happened to knocking?" you don't look back at him.

"I have access to all the doors here," he steps right in and you turn around. The door once again looks with a beep. Obi-Wan had left his outer robes somewhere else and you had a feeling about what he was here for.

"You caught me at the wrong time Obi-Wan," you fiddled with the tassle on a pillow and he makes a few strides towards the bed. "And who's watching the ambassador."

"I left four guards outside his room," he crossed his arms. "Were you meditating?"

"Yes," you nod and he looked around the room. "I was contemplating whether or not I should take back what I said."

"What did you decide?"

"You interrupted me," you tilt your head to the side. He sighs and sits down on the bed. He's doing these things on purpose.

"So let's figure it out right now what you want to do," he leans towards you. Obi-Wan always manages to look so handsome even when he's running low on sleep and as you look at him right now in the soft light in your quarters it made your heart skip a beat. He reached up to your face and allowed the back of his fingers to graze your cheek. "What's it going to be?" You take his hand and you moved towards him before swiftly straddling his lap. He lets out a breath and you pushed him down on the bed.

"Deal," you smiled and he holds your face in his hands.

"So let me kiss you again," he whispered. You leaned down and placed one kiss on his lips. He lowers his grip on the back of your neck. "That's not enough." You kissed him again and he holds you there. The warmness of your bodies radiated off one another and he starts pulling away the linen shirt you were wearing.

"They'll hear us," you hold Obi-Wan's wrist.

"Then you must stay quiet," he successfully removed your shirt and he looked up at you with the same look he gave you the first time he saw you naked. Oh, it did things to you. He cupped one breast and lowered his mouth onto the other. The sensation you loved shocked your body and it caused you to moan. Your arms held you up on top of him and you would run your hands into his hair. His teeth grazed the skin around your breast and you pull at his hair. You sit right on his bulge and he lets out a moan as you grind on him. He holds your hips and he maneuvers the both of you backwards on the bed. Obi-Wan finally leans back on the headboard and you start to remove his robes. The layers were annoying as always and he would give you a kiss as you successfully removed each one. You hold his lightsaber in your hand and he watched as you lift his chin up with the hilt.

"I can't believe you still manage to be jealous of the ambassador," you whispered. He reached for his lightsaber and you move it away and placed it on the nightstand next to your own.

"He touched you," he squeezed your waist.

"And so?" you poked his now bare chest.

"I'm the only one allowed to do that," he pulled you into a kiss, and this time he slips his tongue into your mouth. When you part he looks into your eyes and they were dark with lust. You sit back up and he puts his hands around your wrist. "What are you doing?"

"Figuring out what I'll do to you," you replied looking down at the bulge you were sitting on. "What do you think?"

"No, I want to please you first," he tried to sit up straight but you held him down with the force. He says your name but you ignore him. "Oh, Maker." You had your hand in his pants and you look him in the eyes.

"Will you tell me how?" you move down his body and took off his boots and pants for him.

"Y-yes," he swallowed as you reached for his cock. The shaft was throbbing already and you grinned and you free from the force he took hold of your forearm and pulled you closer. Obi-Wan hissed when your lips circled around the tip of his cock. You tasted his pre-cum and licked it right off. He muttered a curse and then he slips his fingers into your hair. You take him into your mouth and were surprised at what you could handle. The gagging commenced when his entire shaft was almost down your throat. He was holding back from thrusting into your mouth because he worried that you'd freak out.

With a pop, you removed his cock from your mouth and looked up at him. "Keep going, darling. It feels good." His member was coated in your saliva and you placed a kiss here and there. "The tip feels best." You smiled and started to circle your tongue around where he told you to focus your attention. Obi-Wan's head lolled to the side as he watched you please him. He pushed back his hair and licked his lips as you used your hands to grip the shaft which you didn't want to neglect. With a slight squeeze, you got another moan from him.

You can feel your own wetness between your legs and Obi-Wan reached over and started to pull down the pants you were wearing to sleep. He gives one of your asscheeks a rub before he placed one hard slap on it. It was loud and you removed your mouth from him. "Ow!" you frowned. He chuckled and rubs the part where it was stinging. "That was loud." You squeezed the tip of his cock and he moaned.

"Sorry darling," he kissed you and you let him suck the tongue that was just lapping up his pre-cum. You grinned at this and when you part he smirked. You were back to swirling your tongue all over his cock and he stifled some moans and he twists your hair into his fist pulling once and a while you gag on him. This time around he sense that you were getting used to him so he'd gently thrust himself into your mouth and your eyes were starting to water as the tip of his cock met with the back of your throat at his own accord. You paused to catch your breath and he lifts your chin up and wipes the saliva dripping down your lips. "Everything alright?" he brushed the hair that was always in your face and you nod. You were back to pleasing him and your hand fondled with the tip once and a while and you let the saliva drip down.

"How do you feel Master?" you know he liked that. He swallowed and you felt his cock twitch in your hand.

"So good," he strokes the skin on your shoulder and he lifts your chin up. "That pretty mouth of yours is not only good at cheeky remarks but at this too." You giggled and he lets you do your thing and he moans your name as you take him back deeper into your throat. "Look up at me darling." You do as he says and his face contorts in pleasure. You bobbed your head up and down while your tongue worked its way on his shaft. You can feel him starting to tense up and he was breathing harder. The top of his chest and neck were tinged pink and you feel his hand grip your hair harder. "Keep going I'm almost there. You're doing so well." The sound of your gagging mixed with his moans turned you on that you had to keep up so you can be rewarded. He thrust into your mouth again and you just let him. He hissed and cursed pushing your head down onto him. He says your name before you can even release that there was a stream of warm cum in your mouth. It surprised you and he holds your face in his hand as you continue to suck him off.

You took your mouth off him and you had his cum dripping off your lips. Obi-Wan used his thumb to clean it up and put it back into your mouth. You swallowed and he smiled. "Good girl," he kissed you. There was still a slow release of cum coming out of him and you lapped it up.

"An interesting taste," you giggled and he squeezed your cheeks. Obi-Wan leans closer to you and he looked so dazed and there was even a pink tinge on his cheeks. Oh, he looked so good.

"You want some more?" he bites down on your neck and places hot kisses all over it and your shoulder.

"Later," you pushed him back on the bed and crawled back on him. He gives you a growl and you placed both your hands on his chest. "It's my turn."

Next chapter

#star wars #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #star wars fanfic #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi #all I gotta say is ooomf #Mistakes Like This (Obi-Wan Kenobi Fic)

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hazel-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Summary: You arrive on the Finalizer and are faced with a not-so-warm welcome.

Notes: Hey y’all! This fic was originally posted on AO3, so the pre-chapter notes here on Tumblr will be a bit different. Just a heads up, I am still in the process of re-working the first half of this fic so that it is up to par with the second half. The chapters get progressively longer and better as you go on, so hang in there!

Word Count: 1,700

Warnings: none :)

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Say, it's only a paper moon

Sailing over a cardboard sea

But it wouldn't be make-believe

If you believed in me

• It’s Only a Paper Moon ~ Ella Fitzgerald •

This couldn’t be the same sky I’ve looked up at all these years.

But you knew it was… and that terrified you.

Your footsteps were silent as you hesitantly made your way down the metal ramp of the small, gray shuttle that led the glistening black floors of one of the most feared ships in the galaxy: The Finalizer.

Massive windows revealed an endless expanse of space before you, and you couldn't help but stare in awe. It was strange seeing the sky like this — no sun or clouds present — all of the stars unobscured in an abyss of utter blackness. They always seemed two dimensional back on Lothal, thin as the parchment you used to sketch them on. The stars, planets, moons — they only existed on paper.

Until Now.

Here they were, spread across your vision, permeating your senses from all sides. You looked around to see if anyone else was having a similar reaction to the speckled darkness that surrounded you.

Nope, guess it’s just me then.

You shifted your focus down to your feet: your shoes, which were a natural earthy brown, stood out against the inky floor. The artificial lighting strained your eyes and you found yourself missing the natural sunlight that warmed your body back home. Here everything felt constricted, claustrophobic. And what bothered you the most was that everyone else seemed complacent, comfortable even, in the sterile box that was the Finalizer.

You finally forced yourself to focus back on the moment at hand. A uniformed woman approached you. She had a long, sculpted face with black hair pulled into a tight bun at the base of her neck.

“Welcome to the Finalizer,” she stated, with no inflection at all. “I will be showing you to your accommodation, where you will be further briefed on the terms and conditions of your stay here with the First Order.”

The way she said ‘terms and conditions’ made it seem like you were signing away something worth a whole lot more than just a temporary internship.

The woman, who you secretly nicknamed Ms. Stoney in reference to her cold, hard stare, led you down a series of hallways, each one identical in nature. You found yourself lost after the first few turns and made a mental note to pay more attention to the directions the woman was giving you.

Eventually, you found yourself in a hallway with six identical doors. Ms. Stoney pointed to the one on the right side at the very end of the hall.

“That is yours,” she solemnly directed. “You will find further instruction posted to the inside of your door. Until you are given orders to do so, don't travel about the ship, contact anyone outside of the ship, or speak to others without direct permission.”

Just then, a stromtrooper turned the corner to walk down the hallway you and Ms. Stoney were standing in. As he walked by, he nodded in acknowledgement.

"Hey!" you said, responding to the polite gesture eagerly; you were desperate for some normal human interaction.

Ms. Stoney whipped her head towards you in a piercing glare.

“Oh, sorry… I forgot.” You smiled sheepishly at her, bringing your shoulders up towards your ears. Back on Lothal, your father would always tell you how important first impressions were. You could almost hear him sigh from all the way across the galaxy.

The woman rolled her eyes with a huff. “Do you have any immediate questions?”

Finally, you thought. Your brain had been buzzing with questions ever since you arrived. Where would you be working? Who would you be working with? Why was it so kriffing cold on this ship? From the looks of it, the Order wasn't short on credits or resources, so you'd think they would be able to acquire a heating unit or two, right?

“Yes, actuall-” you started, eager to acquire some answers, but not before being interrupted again.

“Great, you can ask General Hux them when you meet him later this afternoon. I’m sure he will be happy to help." In the meantime, stay in your room. Your luggage will be brought in shortly.”

And with that, she spun on her heel, briskly walking away from you like a protocol droid, minus the good manners.

You stood there in silence and sighed. You were used to dealing with unfriendly people back home. Oftentimes your dad would have to accommodate for the occasional unfriendly customer at the shop where he sold his paintings and you would carefully watch how he handled each situation. He never raised his voice and always made sure to return a scowl with a smile. Not expecting such a response, the customer’s reaction was always the same: a flustered scoff and a frustrated beeline towards the nearest door. You adopted this method of effectively handling difficult people in your own life, this moment with Ms. Stoney included.

Who knew that a basic gesture of human kindness — one as simple as a smile — could have such a large impact?

Apparently not even you.

—————————————

You inhaled a deep breath and opened the door to your new room. It was small and cold. You didn’t mind the size; you were used to that back home. You did, however, mind the temperature, which made you to shiver and pull your sleeves over your hands. The black, windowless walls of the room made you feel even more claustrophobic than you were in the hangar. There were only a few items of furniture in the room: a surprisingly large bed, a sleek black desk, and an armchair that looked like the cause of some major future back pain.

You spotted two doors, one that led to a small refresher, and the other to a closet. Upon further inspection of the closet, you found it filled with pristine black and grey attire. A twinge of homesickness pierced your heart as you thought back to the light, comfortably rugged clothes you had grown accustomed to on Lothal.

Maybe this was a mistake…

You looked back at the entrance to your room before remembering what Ms. Stoney had told you: You will find further instruction posted to the inside of your door.

As you moved closer, you found two sheets of paper taped to the door. On one was a map of the Finalizer, and on the other was a list of the week’s “activities”. You looked closely at the rest of the schedule for the day and found three things written:

6:00 - Dinner is served in the cafeteria

7:30 - Collect ID from Block D Reception

8:30 - Meet with General Hux to receive further instruction regarding your internship

Items one and two on the list could be accomplished easily enough… But number three?

That made you nervous.

————————————

The hours passed too quickly and you found yourself staring, eyes full of dread, at a clock reading 8:15.

What was this meeting with General Hux about, anyways? I wasn’t prepared for this… not on my first day at least.

You thought back to when Ms. Stoney told you how happy General Hux would be to answer all your questions. There was something in her tone of voice that made it seem like he would be the exact opposite.

Oh well. You took a deep breath. I’ll do my best, try to act professional, and, if all else fails, simply try to smile in the face of terror.

You changed into a black turtleneck and gray trousers, tied your hair into a bun not nearly as tight as Ms. Stoney’s, and readjusted the braided bracelet on your wrist — a gift from your best friend, Cheyenne, who was back on Lothal.

With a deep sigh, shoulder roll, and a quick tip of your head, you walked out of your room and into the adjacent hallway. Studying the map that was provided to you, you began your trek to the General’s office.

As you navigated the seemingly endless hallways of the Finalizer, you passed a menagerie of stormtroopers, officers, and droids. The atmosphere was rigid and brisk — everyone seemed to have an urgent purpose, an important life-or-death matter to attend to.

It was a stark contrast to the slow, free-flowing lifestyle of Lothal; most people there recognized that with each new day came new challenges, making life unpredictable. But instead of responding to this uncertainty by attempting to control the uncontrollable, Lothalians tended to adapt, mold themselves to accommodate any given situation. They were humble this way.

And here, where change was seen as something that challenged the draconian stability of the First Order, you came to learn that the malleable lifestyle you grew so accustomed to on Lothal was considered the equivalent of a death sentence here on the Finalizer.

You re-emerged from your thoughts and found yourself nearing your destination. You rounded a corner, checking over the map you were provided with a furrowed brow.

As you attempted to concentrate on the various lines and names written on the small piece of paper, a strange feeling washed over you. It started as a small shiver, before turning into a slight prickle at the back of your neck. You swatted your hand behind you, thinking a small bug landed on you, only to remember that you were on a spaceship far above any planet where bugs would be located. You shook your head, trying to concentrate harder on deciphering the map, only to have the prickling become more intense, almost invasive.

Kriff, am I going insane?

The not-so-friendly tingle intensified enough that you decided to turn and face the invisible menace that seemed to creep its way up your spine. You moved so abruptly that a few passing stormtroopers tilted their heads towards you in curiosity.

Embarrassed at your moment of irritation and confusion, you averted your eyes and started to turn your head back in the other direction — but before you could, something caught your attention.

Or rather, someone.

——————————

Masterlist || Next

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commanderrivercc-3628 · 5 years ago

Text

One Hundred Sixty-Three Years

Words: 2.6k

Warning: some strong language

This was a short story I wrote a year ago. So, yeah... also this has nothing to do with Star Wars

There were eight people on the mission, which is normal as the transport shuttles are made to be large in size to transport more supplies and resources than people. When they were prepared to embark on the mission, the eight entered the large-sized shuttle and were put into one of the larger rooms in the shuttle. The engineers who created the shuttle called it the ‘Eclipse-Sleep Chamber’. Within this room, there were eight Eclipse-Sleep pods, and that’s where the eight stayed for the duration of their travels. Typical travel time is somewhere between one hundred fifty to three hundred days. The travelers weren’t told the exact number, but that’s roughly how long it takes to get to Mars, which is the mission: to transfer humans from the climate change ridden Earth to the new homeworld, Mars.

The shuttle was dark. The round lights that lined the halls were off to preserve power. An occasional window opened up the tight space, showing the empty void that waited outside. Doors led to more rooms and doorways to more halls.

One by one the Eclipse-Sleep pods began to awaken the person inside. The first person that woke up was Marcus. He stood in the center of the room, waiting to help the other eight people. In five minute intervals, the rest of the group began to wake up. Michael was the second to be brought out of Eclipse-Sleep by the automatic wake up system. Marcus stood next to the pod, arms crossed as Michael struggled to climb out. The two glared at each other as Michael left the room.

Chloe was the next to wake up. Marcus offered her a hand which she accepted. She stayed back to wait for the next person to wake up. She looked towards her shoes to avoid any eye contact with Marcus.

Another five minutes later Adam was pulled out of Eclipse-Sleep, grabbed Marcus’s hand for help, and nodded to Chloe as he walked out of the chamber. Adam was different from Marcus. That much you could tell just based on body language. While Marcus stood arms crossed and standoffish, Adam stood warm and inviting with great posture.

Chloe was still waiting with Marcus, not saying a word. Another pod opened revealing Sophia. At the sight of Sophia, Chloe rushed to her and helped her up. The two young women quickly left the room, leaving Marcus alone with the others still in the Eclipse-Sleep pods.

The next two to emerge from Eclipse-Sleep were Julia followed by Dean. The last sleeping crew member was a young woman. She had shoulder-length, curly auburn hair.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” Marcus sweetly stated.

The woman slowly opened her eyes to see who was talking to her. The chamber was bright… too bright. Her eyes adjusted quickly and soon was able to make out Marcus’ smirking face.

Judging by the look of him, he was older than she was. He had deep green eyes, a five o’clock shadow, and short, dusty brown hair that was beginning to grey on the sides.

“Don’t call me Sleeping Beauty, Marcus.” The young woman said, groaning. Her beautiful amber eyes seemed to sparkle.

“Look, Sweet Heart, it’s really not my fault you overslept.” Marcus laughed as if it were Bobbi’s fault that her Eclipse-Sleep pod woke her up last.

“Don’t call me Sweet Heart either. Where are the others?” Bobbi asked, looking around to find the other six people on the mission.

There were four men, including Marcus, and three women other than Bobbi.

“Well, I’m guessing Michael went to the control room seeing as he’s technically the boss. And Julia probably went there too, since she’s the technology specialist. I’m gonna bet that Dean went to the med bay since he’s the medic. But I don’t know where everyone else went. Oh, and we are here, alone.” Marcus replied.

He winked at Bobbi after that last part. Bobbi rolled her eyes and began fussing with the restraints that fastened her in the pod. Marcus helped Bobbi pull herself out of the pod, which was situated in the wall like a small cave. The end of the pods stuck out with a glass dome that opened, allowing the person inside to get out

Just then, static sounded overhead as the speaker turned on.

“Everyone get to the control room. Now. We have a problem.” It was from Michael. There was a distinct hint of urgency and worry in his voice.

Bobbi and Marcus looked at each other and then took off running out of the chamber and down the hallway.

Dean and Adam were already in the control room, along with Julia and Michael, by the time Marcus and Bobbi arrived. Bobbi looked to each of her fellow crewmates. Michael was standing by a large chair which she identified to be the captain’s seat. Julia was standing to the right-hand side of the room by a large panel. Bobbi assumed this to be the diagnostic equipment. Adam stood opposite of Julia on the left-hand side by another large panel, which she concluded to be the navigation panel.

Sophia and Chloe arrived a few moments later.

“The travel logs,” Michael began. “They say we’ve been in space for 59533 days.”

Confusion washed over the crew’s faces. A few raised their eyebrows. Some put their hands over their mouths. Others just stood there. Chloe was the first to speak up.

“How is that possible?” Chloe asked.

“It shouldn’t be,” Michael stated.

“Well, that’s what it says,” Adam argued. “The navigation logs aren’t wrong.”

“There must be something wrong in the system then.” Bobbi began.

“There’s not.” Adam was now shouting. “No matter how many times you ask me to check the damn travel logs, it won’t change.”

By that time Sophia had walked over to Adam and placed her hand on his shoulder. He took a deep breath. Everyone look at each other, the looks of confusion now turning into concern.

“Yeah, look, I hate to point out the obvious,” Marcus stated, “but that’s not near Mars.”

“Jee, Marcus. That was so helpful.” Bobbi said, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.

Marcus scrunched up his face and stuck his tongue out.

“You’re thirty-nine years old. Act your age.” Bobbi said, her voice grew louder.

“Enough,” Michael yelled. “Adam, is there any way to convert that time to years?”

“Maybe.”

The room was silent. Everyone just looked around at each other. No one made a sound until Michael sighed.

“I’ve tried to recover the log files, but I can’t find anything.” He said.

“I could give it a try,” Julia said.

While Julia began typing very quickly to useful, Adam turned to speak.

“We’re about one hundred sixty-three years away from Earth.”

The room was dead silent again. Chloe turned to step out for a moment as tears filled her eyes. Sophia followed her sister out of the control room to comfort her. Marcus crossed his arms, shaking his head, and pinning his tongue between his back teeth causing his jaw to appear slightly crooked.

Julia had now turned around and pulled up a video. Seeing this Michael had called Sophia and Chloe back into the room.

“Wait, what is that?” Sophia asked.

“No idea,” Julia said. “But it’s dated back to before the launch.”

She looked back over her shoulder to the other. She played the video.

A man, probably about fifty years old, appeared on the screen. He was wearing a white lab coat and safety goggles on the top of his head. There was sweat on his brow, and he kept glancing over his shoulder.

“Isn’t that Dr. Gallagher?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, it is,” Sophia said.

Dr. Gallagher was the head engineer and astronomer back on Earth. He actually designed the Eclipse-Sleep pods, allowing long-distance space travel without aging.

No one spoke as the video played.

“Hello.” The video Dr. Gallagher said. “No doubt by now the eight of you have discovered that you aren’t going to Mars. Recently, I discovered a planet in an unknown galaxy. I believe that it supports life.”

All jaws dropped. Eyes widened. Still, no one spoke. The video played on.

“Now I am aware that none of you were informed of the change in plans, but mission control wasn’t either. The board wouldn’t approve to send anyone to this new planet because it’s ‘too far away’. Ridiculous. Here we are, on a dying planet. And a perfectly good habitable planet is just about one hundred sixty-three years away from Earth. But I showed them. I sent you there anyway.” The doctor paused and took a deep breath. He mumbled something to himself and smiled creepily.

“I will be dead by the time you see this. But none of that matters because I was right. I was able to send you all to Planet 893RF. Now should you succeed and actually make it to the planet, the eight of you will be able to live out the rest of your lives on this new planet. Unfortunately, I was not able to bribe the fuel mechanics into giving you enough fuel to last a four hundred year journey. Meaning, you won’t be able to return to Earth or Mars. I wish all of you luck, and I hope you enjoy your new home. I will continue to try and get a sanctioned mission sent to Planet 893RF so that there will be more of you, however, I doubt it will happen.”

The video shut off. No one spoke. Tears filled the eyes of Julia, Chloe, and Dean.

“Damn it,” Dean screamed. Falling to his knees as the realization he’d never see his wife and daughter again set in.

Marcus’ hands balled into fists. The rest just stood, jaws dropped. The silence was eerie, in the light-filled room. After what felt like years, Bobbi spoke.

“So, we were basically sent on an unauthorized suicide mission to a planet that may, or may not be habitable. Did I get that right?”

“That’s exactly what happened,” Chloe said.

“Shit,” Bobbi said.

“Guys…” Adam said. No one was listening, as Adam slowly made his way towards the large window in the control room.

“This new information doesn’t change the facts that we still have a mission to accomplish,” Michael stated.

Chloe, Julia, and Dean nodded in agreement as they wiped tears from their eyes. Dean stood up.

“What mission, Michael?” Marcus yelled. “We are over one hundred years past the mission. We don’t even know if people are still being sent to Mars.”

Bobbi and Sophia looked at each other then nodded, showing their agreement with Marcus. They stepped forward slightly to stand next to him. Chloe, Julia, and Dean then stepped closer to Michael.

“That doesn’t mean anything, Marcus.” Michael calmly replied, trying to refrain from becoming angry.

“Guys…” Adam said yet again, now standing next to the large window, staring off into space. There was still no one listening.

“What would the point even be to continue the mission? Everyone we’ve ever known is dead. And heading back to Mars would take another, what? One hundred sixty-three years?” He turned to look at Julia, who nodded in response to confirm his number. “How do you know we even have enough full to travel all the way back to the Milky Way?”

Michael didn’t say anything. He just stood expressionless. He only moved to glance towards Julia. Julia nodded in response and began to examine the various gauges and controls until finding the fuel gauge. She turned back around to look at Michael and shook her head.

“See,” Marcus said, motioning his hand towards Julia, who had just proved his point. Upon hearing this, Chloe walked past Michael to stand beside Bobbi and Sophia, clearly now agreeing with Marcus over Michael.

“We have a new mission, don’t we?” Michael said, raising an eyebrow and smirking slightly.

“There is no way in hell I’m going to do what that slimy son of a-”

“Guys,” Adam yelled, causing everyone to turn their heads in his direction. “Come look at this.”

The other seven made their way to the large window. Everyone’s jaw dropped when they look outside. There was a planet, it was Planet 893RF.

“It looks just like Earth, in a way,” Bobbi said.

The planet was primarily water, with some small islands of dense green scattered throughout the ocean. There was an occasional larger island, but the vast majority were smaller by comparison. Small bursts of clouds were scattered throughout the atmosphere.

“I feel like we are obligated to go down there at this point.” Adam calmly stated. Everyone slowly began to nod in response to Adam’s statement. Everyone, that is, except for Marcus.

“We can’t go down there.” He exclaimed.

“And why not?” Sophia asked, turning to look at Marcus while placing her hand on her hip.

“It’s suicide. We have no idea what, or maybe even who is down there.” Marcus replied, flinging his arm in the direction of the window, gesturing towards Planet 893RF.

“That’s exactly why we should go down there. We need to explore and see if it’s actually a habitable planet.” Chloe rebutted.

“If we go down there, Dr. Gallagher will have won. He ruined our lives. It’s his fault we’ll never see our families again.” Marcus expressed.

“Well then what do you propose, Marcus? Stay here on the shuttle?” Dean asked, stepping forward to be more engaged in the conversation.

“Maybe.” Marcus shrugged.

“We can’t stay on the shuttle.” Julia began, using her advanced knowledge of technology and the shuttle itself to get her point across. “The shuttle will eventually run out of fuel. At that point, life support will begin to fail, if not sooner.”

“Marcus, we have no other option but to go down onto the surface of the planet,” Bobbi said, placing her hand on Marcus’ shoulder while smiling at him sweetly.

“Wait. How do we even know if the atmosphere is breathable?” Michael questioned.

Marcus made a smug face and gestured towards Michael. Sophia and Chloe rolled their eyes. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger while shaking his head. Adam sighed.

“Once we get closer to the surface of the planet I can run an analysis of the planet’s atmosphere with shuttle’s diagnostic equipment,” Julia stated matter of factly.

“Ugh, fine,” Marcus said, giving up the argument knowing he wouldn’t win. “Now what do we do?”

“Go down to the surface of the planet, obviously,” Sophia stated.

“I mean we’ll have to gather food stores and weapons to defend ourselves. None of that even matters if the atmosphere is toxic to us.” Bobbi rambled.

“Hold on.” Michael began. “Is everyone ready to go to the planet’s surface?”

Everyone nodded almost simultaneously, even Marcus, who still had his arms crossed.

“Alright then. It’s settled. Down to the planet we go.” Michael said, putting his hands on his hips.

He looked everyone over. They were strong and intelligent, some more than others, but nonetheless, still the best of the best.

The eight stood in a circle. No one moved. No one spoke. Despite deciding to make the venture to the surface of Planet 893RF, no one really knew what to do. They didn’t even know if they would be able to land the shuttle. They didn’t know what was to come, and what may be down there, but they all knew they could handle it. As long as they worked together, but the eight were on their own. That’s really what scared them.

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marlinspirkhall · 4 years ago

Text

Tomorrow Never Comes, Chapter 07: “Not A Single Friend”

Content Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Chapter Word Count: 3,799

[Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8]

Further CW: Major Character Death

Light streams through the window, and Jim rolls onto his side with a sleepy smile. “Morning,” he hums.

Spock watches him intensely, and it’s only when his eyebrows raise slightly that Jim realises he’s trying to communicate.

“The bond?” He croaks, pushing himself up on his elbow.

Spock shakes his head. “It didn’t survive…” His brow furrows. “The planet’s restorative abilities did their job too well.”

Over the next few days, Spock becomes more withdrawn. It doesn’t worry Jim, exactly; Spock always does this whenever they reach a new obstacle. Perhaps he blames himself. Hell, Jim’s been inside his mind; he knows he blames himself.

Jim throws himself back into research. He scours every archive he can find, reading the names of wanted smugglers in this sector, anyone who could have disappeared here, anyone who could have a clue. If getting out of here is the only way for them to retain their bond- and their bond is the only thing which will make Spock happy- then he needs to find a solution.

Jim sits near the guardrail, his legs dangling over the edge of the Veranda, and hears soft footsteps behind him. He turns, with a sad, slight smile.

“I was thinking about Earth,” Jim murmurs. “Being trapped here almost makes it easier to cope with. Do you find that?”

Spock gives a hesitant nod. “Earth was similar to this planet in many ways-”

A huff of laughter. “No, I mean- I can almost pretend that being trapped here is the only reason I won’t see it again,” Jim whispers.

Spock nods, and joins him beside the guard rail.

They sit in silence for a moment. The dark leaves of the forest rustle all around them; the first warning of the oncoming weather, and Spock wraps his arms tighter around Jim. When the first drops fall, they barely feel them; too lost in one another’s mind.

With storms like these, eternity is hard to weather. Jim tries to keep track of time, but, if it was hard before, it’s impossible now. He would have thought Spock’s own, immaculate sense of time would keep him in check, but, instead, he wonders if he’s rubbed off on him.

‘Or perhaps I was never as good at keeping time as you thought.’

‘Well, spending time trapped in a time-loop will do that to a person,’ Jim comments.

Spock massages his temples, as if dispelling a headache. ‘Perhaps we should practise your ability to block certain thoughts. It’s not necessary for me to know your every thought.’

‘Ah, but you love it.’ Jim kisses him.

Once it’s repaired, they take the shuttle for a short test flight over the forest. They don’t dare take it further until they have a more concrete escape plan, but Jim stays in the front seat a little longer once they’ve landed, double checking every part of the controls. There’s a lot about this shuttle he doesn’t understand- it’s got features he’s never seen before: some are experimental, some are prototypes. There’s an abundance of suspicious and dangerous-sounding subroutines. A large file size piques his interest, particularly because it’s nestled within a list of comparatively smaller files.

File Name | size

11292254qDefp.mp4 | 28.5TB

11302254RsTwy.mp4 | 22.23TB

11312254Ghtf2.mp4 | 58.334601151 PiB

12302253lCmdp.mp4 | 21.56TB

He stares. 58 pebibytes of information. It must be using all the shuttle’s available memory space. He searches through its parent folders.

‘Overseer Protocol: Active.’

Curious, he selects it.

‘Admin override required.’

He inputs Leland’s password, but the system refuses to accept it. Whatever the overseer protocol is, it was clearly intended to keep Leland in line. It takes Jim a couple of tries to override the system without the password.

There’s a bleep.

The video files load in their raw form: dates, followed by a series of timestamps.

28 Oct: 24:23:09

29 Oct: 25:00:00

30 Oct: 19:30:03

The screen flickers, and freezes for a moment as the numbers load.

25:56:03

An error sound.

625:56:04

5625:56:05

31 Oct: 45625:56:07

He exhales. The seconds keep ticking up. His heart pounds in his ears.

He chooses the file from October 30th, and picks a timestamp towards the end. The screen pulls up two videos, side-by-side. Two cameras. One of them displays the exterior of the shuttle, the other, the interior. The int. screen is pitch black, and the ext. is extremely dim. The only sound is the faint rustle of the trees, battered by the wind. He rolls the video back, and lands on footage of the three of them on that first day, unloading the shuttle. He clenches his fist as he watches the early relationship between Leland and Spock, and he considers just how far he’s come. In some ways, it’s a miracle he ever got away from Leland at all; and a cynical part of him wonders if, perhaps, he never did. Jim glances to the entrance to the basement with an uneasy feeling.

Spock has moments like the other night- flashes of affection- and then seems to draw back in on himself. Granted, Jim never expected it to happen all at once, but he almost believed that would be it- one final mind meld, and he would be able to save Spock. He’d forgotten, of course, just how many times Spock had melded with him before. It could be that first times- all the times which were erased from Jim’s memory- are easier than the second.

He assured Spock that he’s not trying to get him to behave more human, not holding him to Vulcan stereotypes or standards, or a strict section-31 regimen, as Leland would have. But, still, there are days where he cannot reach him.

He watches as he and Spock enter the forest, and Leland begins to move the crates of power packs towards the entrance of the basement.

Jim clicks the video off, and chooses an entry from the 29th. More of the same. Leland, crashing the shuttle through the Martian dome with barely a scratch.

As for that final entry…

The shuttle must have continued recording the whole time they were in the time-loop. The internal clock is programmed for the Martian 25-hour standard, perhaps because Mars Colony was the last chartered place the shuttle landed on, though the days aren’t nearly as long on Heirin- they’re perhaps nineteen, twenty hours maximum.

There are perhaps six Earth-years’ worth of footage crammed into this one device. He wonders how many recordings there are of himself or Leland dying, and his stomach turns. He doesn’t really want to know, but the monitor could have other uses. He ends the recording manually, and switches to a new recording. He waves his hand in front of the screen experimentally. The interior camera appears to be built right into the screen.

He disconnects the monitor carefully, and weighs it in his hands for a moment. It’s small, and relatively weighty. He considers showing it to Spock, but, after a moment’s hesitation, he drags it into the server room. He’s not sure if Spock would want to be reminded of how long he’s spent here. Not yet.

He plugs the monitor into the console, though it appears to have some internal, backup power-source. The video files have disappeared- no doubt stored in the shuttle, as the monitor’s internal storage is comparatively smaller. Jim leaves it by the consoles for now.

Jim is attempting to balance on one leg.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to see if I can build up-” Jim falls over with a cry. “- Muscle,” he hisses, rubbing his hamstring with a grimace. He stands back up, and resumes the position. “We still don’t know if our bodies are entirely replaced each morning, or if it only happens when one of us is injured.” He poses. “How does my butt look?”

“The same as usual,” Spock says, dryly.

“Well, it’s early days,” Jim shrugs.

Spock hesitates, then steps a little closer. “I doubt it’s possible for you to gain much more… ‘muscle’ in this particular area,” he says, tactfully.

Jim shoots him a glare over his shoulder, and promptly overbalances. “There’s that Vulcan tact, I see.”

“This could help prove it, once and for all.”

“It is futile to attempt to prove something which runs so contrary to the laws of physics-”

Jim grabs his hand, and, with one sharp tug, Spock lands in the mud beside him, and they bump heads.

“Law of gravity,” Jim says, sheepishly, as he rubs his nose.

As far as he can tell, their bodies seem incapable of going through any kind of change. Gaining/losing weight, scarring, telepathic bonds- none of them seem to stick. They really do seem to regenerate each morning, without exception, though the rest of their surroundings wither. And we’ll never age. It’s practically immortality, Jim thinks.

If only we weren’t stuck here.

The next time Spock melds with him, a bond forms almost immediately, as it did before.

‘I guess that means we’re exceptionally compatible.’

Spock tilts his head. ‘We know each other well. A bond is an inevitable side effect.’

‘That’s what I said!’

Despite its futility, Jim convinces Spock to bond with him again. And again. It becomes a strange sort of game, a dance; to go to sleep each evening aware of the other, with the ability to broadcast their every thought into the others’ head, and renew it each morning.

‘Are you familiar with Greek mythology?’ Jim asks. Spock appears in front of him, stern and disapproving.

‘If I were not, I could get the information from your mind.’

‘Right,’ Jim laughs. ‘At first, I thought we might be living the life of Sisyphus, cursed to roll the same boulder up the hill every day. But, every time I look at you, the story of Tantalus comes to mind.’

Spock’s eyebrows twitch. The landscape shifts, until Jim is standing neck-deep in water, watching ripples on the surface of a great lake. Spock stands on the shore.

A large willow tree looms over Jim, its leaves a delicate, olive-leaf green. Something flutters across his face, pale pink and soft. A single petal. Jim smiles serenely, and glances at the underside of the tree. Improbably- and, perhaps, illogically- it is covered with cherry blossoms, the like he hasn’t seen since Earth.

“Which am I, Jim?” Spock says, in a booming whisper. His voice echoes all around him, syllables melting into great, crashing waves. “The water you can never stoop to drink, or the fruit which is just out of reach?”

Jim focuses on the falling petals, their delicate red hue looking less familiar by the moment, and contemplates their similarity to the rocks on Heirin. Everything about this planet is overpowering: drenching, seeping into them, even in these stolen moments of serenity. Jim knows better than most how easily alliances can be shattered by violence, and, reaching out, he touches one of the petals.

“Neither,” he answers. He takes a deep breath. “I know what you’re scared of- that I, like Leland, view you as a prize to be won- but I don’t.” He considers for a moment. “But, I do need you. You are only like the water because I need you to sustain me. Only like the fruit because I’m willing to wait for you to fall. This… Time loop, this trap we’re caught in- I wouldn’t be able to survive it without you. You’ve demonstrated that, time and time again.”

As he’s talking, the water level shrinks to his waist.

“I don’t want to be trapped here, but there is one benefit- it gives me time to wait.”

Spock blinks. “For what?”

“You.”

Spock reaches out, and catches a falling petal. “You could be waiting for a long time.”

The echo of laughter. “As far as we know, we have eternity.” He holds his hand out, and Spock appears next to him. He wraps his arms around his shoulders and kisses him slowly.

They’re so deep in the meld that it takes daybreak to pull them out of it. Jim wakes up in bed blinking in the light. Spock is curled on his side next to him, his hand outstretched towards Jim’s forehead. It’s almost easy to believe that he fell asleep this way.

He reaches out, and cards a hand through Spock’s hair. For a moment, he allows himself to pretend that they’re just two lovers, lying together on a lazy Sunday morning with no responsibilities, and nothing else to do. But, it isn’t Sunday, and, somewhere below them, Leland is waking, too.

He kisses Spock’s wrist. He twitches in his sleep, his brows pulling together, perhaps sensing Jim’s troubled thoughts. Jim rises, and hurries downstairs as quietly as he can without sacrificing speed.

Leland’s “rise and shine” doesn’t have time to fall from his lips.

Jim spends a pleasant morning with Spock before returning to the server room for his usual dig through The Klingon archives. His Klingon has gotten really good recently, and he’s sure there must be something he’s overlooked in the top-secret war files. As he goes to input the now-familiar sequence, something catches his eye in front of him.

‘Mars-Colony gang members reported missing […] with the exception of T’Gar Taag, who was apprehended last Tuesday-”

His eyes widen, and he leans back in his chair, eyes darting around the printings and clippings laid out on the walls.

‘Crash-landing results in bloodbath […] sole survivor, Lewis McAllister-’

Sole survivor. Jim reaches forwards, bringing up the scribbled translations of the Klingon tomes he was able to piece together. It’s only legend.

A time loop, sparked by the spilling of innocent blood.

A hazy memory from that first night. Perhaps it’s so hazy because it’s the last thing he remembers before he was murdered: Leland, sitting opposite him in an unknown cave, firelight painting his face, and the walls, a deep, intense red. “When the battle ended, there wasn’t a single enemy left.”

“And not a single friend, either,” Jim had joked.

He’s not laughing now. He sits in the server room for a moment, hands trembling as he contemplates his next move. Then, he rises, tears the clippings from the wall, and heads for the door. On his way out, he doubles back, and grabs the monitor which he tore from the shuttle, hugging it to his chest as he runs through the beginnings of rain.

He enters the stronghold through the main entrance, and enters the central hall. Spock is upstairs, meditating. After a moment’s deliberation, Jim stashes the print-outs under the cushions of the sofa. As for the monitor…

He grabs an axe from the wall, and steps into the downstairs bathroom.

The shower runs. It provides an interesting background to Jim’s conversation with himself. The green light paints his face a sickly sheen, and he looks almost… Undead. It’s not entirely inappropriate, he thinks grimly, as he sets the axe and the monitor in the tub, and hits record.

Spock wakes up alone, which isn’t entirely unusual, but he feels strangely uneasy.

Downstairs, Jim sits at the dining table, papers laid out all around him, as is customary for one of their escape-planning sessions; although it’s been a while since they’ve had one. The change in their surroundings is immediately apparent.

“You’ve redecorated,” Spock observes, lightly.

The remaining knives, weapons and tools have vanished from the walls, and Jim gives him a strange smile. “I thought we could use some… Variety.”

Spock lifts an eyebrow, and settles in the chair opposite him. He only needs to study his face for a moment.

“You’ve found a way for us to leave,” he realises.

“No,” Jim closes his eyes. “Not us, exactly…”

Jim points to one of the headlines, then the others, and begins to explain. As he listens, Spock’s heart begins to pound in his chest, and he struggles to remain outwardly calm. He feels every bit as trapped as he did that first night, when Leland had pointed a phaser at him.

He remembers the clatter as the power pack had fallen into the gap in the ceiling, and his eyes dart, momentarily, upwards.

“- But,” Jim catches his breath, “There’s another option.” He swallows. “We could stay here, together. I know I’ve said it before, but- we don’t need to eat. We don’t even, technically, need to sleep. That’s paradise, to some people. Maybe as close to it as we’re ever going to get. We’d never get old, and we could live our lives in relative comfort, until one or both of us was ready to…” He swallows. “Leave.”

Spock’s face twitches. The idea is almost tempting. Except...

“Rise and shine, campers!”

He turns to the door. “There will always be Leland.”

“A small price to pay for paradise,” Jim says.

Spock purses his lips, and begins to rise from his seat.

“No.” Jim pushes his chair back, and places a hand over Spock’s. “Allow me.”

Spock slumps, and watches as Jim exits onto the Veranda.

Footsteps, quickly, down the stairs.

Voices. A scuffle.

A body hits the ground.

Outside, Jim drags Leland’s body towards the forest, and Spock watches them until they’re out of sight.

He sits. He sits and contemplates, for how long, he does not know.

He considers everything that Jim had told him. With his strength, it would be easy to kill Leland with his bare hands. But, Jim? If the man turned on him, he would certainly have the physical strength to defend himself, but there are other factors to consider.

“Theoretically, if we’re here long enough… Axes will blunt. Knives will wear down.”

They would have to kill Leland with their bare hands, day after day after day. And- if ever Jim got bored of him, as humans are wont to do- he would have to rid himself of Spock in the same, clumsy way. Vulcans are patient, Leland had said. But, he was raised by humans, and he has murdered his fathers too many times to cling onto any concept of remorse. For surely- surely- somewhere, after years of two-person solitude in this desert of companionship, Jim will tire of a world where the only person to quench his thirst is a Vulcan. Spock can foresee it with almost-perfect clarity: a day where Jim will bore, and he will only be able to repay him in blood.

As if moved by some external force, Spock hurries upstairs, and retrieves one of the empty phasers which Leland had left in the third drawer of the nightstand. Then, he returns downstairs, and pushes one of the dining chairs to the center of the room.

He climbs onto it. Blindly, he reaches into the gap in the ceiling, searching for the power pack which Leland had lost, yesterday and so many years ago. After all this time, there’s no guarantee that it will still work, and a part of him hopes that it won’t.

So much has changed since that first night. In many ways, they have become complacent of the danger Leland poses to them, a danger which is very likely to return.

And, there are so many ways that it could go wrong. If, one day, either one of them forgets to kill Leland, he could kill one or both of them instead. They have already been clumsy too many times. If it happens again, and Leland succeeds in killing one of them by mistake, they would lose their memories. Even if a mind meld could partially restore them, it would put them at a dangerous disadvantage.

And Leland need only be lucky once.

There are other things, too. Spock appreciates an adherence to routine; he does not know if the same is true for Jim. And, when one takes into account the enormity of eternity, it may not even be true for himself.

A part of him longs to put it to the test. To see how many eons they could go on thriving in this remote place. Never growing older, even as the stronghold around them was eroded by the winds of time. They could repair it, to a point, but, eventually, they would have to rebuild it from the woods that surround them. Fashioning their own tools as the old fell to ruin. That would certainly speed up the daily ritual of what must be done.

A small price to pay for paradise.

But, truly, how many times could they bear the stain of Leland’s blood? The man isn’t innocent by any stretch of the imagination, but, if there’s any truth in the terran concept of “purgatory”, has enough time elapsed to pay off his debt? At any rate, they’re not dealing with a world of terran invention, but it can’t be a Klingon one, either: in this instance, The Last Man Standing would be without honour.

How long before the ravine to the East becomes full of identical corpses, as the clearing in the woods was once overcrowded with Jim’s? And, in truth, is still overcrowded. There’s no room to start a life together on a planet littered with one another’s bones.

Mining the planet by hand if they had to. Perhaps they would even uncover the buried Time Crystal which keeps them trapped here, and a way to destroy it. But, even as he allows himself to dream, he knows it’s impossible. If there is any pattern to his life so far, any truth in the instruction given to him by Leland, it is this:

Vulcans are patient. Humans are not.

Most importantly, any exceptions aside: James Kirk is not. Jim, the man who bet the late Christopher Pike that he could graduate in four years, and have command of his own ship in five. Jim, the man who cheated on The Kobayashi Maru.

Still, the test was designed to be unbeatable. And, perhaps- perhaps- if Jim Kirk was willing to sit an unbeatable test three times- he may not be so impatient after all. Perhaps, somehow, through the combined stubbornness that’s sustained them so far, they will find another solution-

The door opens behind him. Spock swings round, still balanced precariously on the chair, and Jim stops dead in his tracks.

Without breaking eye contact, Spock slots the power pack into place, and levels the phaser at Jim.

Jim stares at him, open-mouthed. Spock steps down from the chair, and Jim settles into a grim smile. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t run.

They stare at each other like exhausted children, waiting for a drawn-out game of make-believe to finally end.

Humans are impatient, Spock assures himself. He waits for Jim to make the first move, but he doesn’t even twitch. Conceivably, they could both stand here forever.

His fingers find the trigger.

He is impatient.

He fires.

[Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8]

#tomorrow never comes #star trek fic #star trek aos fic #star trek discovery fic #spirk fic

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