#crew of the detz

[crew-of-the-detz]

The Garden We Made

Sisuma knelt amid the ruins of her garden. The Greol woman wasn't sure what she expected, she knew that when everyone was... under, she knew that everything would be disabled and shut down to save power. All the irrigation paths she had dried up, all the fertilizer drones powered down, and the precise atmosphere she kept in this room was nothing but stale recycled air at this point.

It had been six years that the crew had been under, she tended her garden for ten, but all it took was one moment and one flip of the switch to damn her garden. Withered plants, the once stood proud, now lay nothing but mummified carbon husks, a testament to her failure. She knew that it wasn't her fault, she knew that the choice wasn't hers, but nonetheless she felt like a failure.

Dried soil greedily drank her tears as she knelt there. If she wasn't crippled by her brand, maybe she could have used her psionics to visualize her garden on last time. But instead she was alone, fragile, mangled, and utterly broken.

She needed to go to somewhere, no, someone. But six years in cryo does a number on the mind. Her medically trained brain immediately went into all the ways her brain was damaged, more than it already was before going under. Not helpful, she knew it wasn't helpful, but listing all the things that was wrong with her gave her focus, gave her direction.

Eventually, that focus turned to finding this person. This... woman? Sisuma had her frame visualized, but all the features were gone, static in its place. She stood, and she ran.

As she ran she tried piecing together more of this woman. To be honest all she had when she woke up was a note taped to the inside of her cryo-bed to check on the garden. Even then, it took her 4 hours to find it. Turning around a corridor she almost ran into a human man. She knew this man, his face and that metallic arm familiar. Klove, the name sprung up. "A-apologies". She had almost forgotten the sound of her own voice. But she pressed past and kept going.

Hope started to bloom. If looking at Klove let her remember him, maybe the case would be the same with this mystery woman. She ran past the medical wing. She worked there. Her boss, Doc, she remembered him. She remembered the people she worked on, she remembered the lives she's saved. The woman grows deeper into focus.

She continued to run, and run, and run. Her atrophied legs scream, she used to be a good runner, but six years of not using anything makes them weak. She pressed on, she knew it was a bad idea but she pushed the pain aside and ran, and ran, and ran.

Until, she couldn't run anymore. Her legs gave out. She fell. And she pulled herself to the wall of the corridor and sat there, defeated. This woman in her brain, she was so close to being pictured it hurt. She stood, and she limped, hugging the wall. She felt as if her very life, her immortal soul, depended on finding this woman. She walked past the ships bar, and looked inside.

There she was. This human woman. Horrifically burned, scarred, and most of her limbs replaced with advanced bionics. Her lower jaw a metallic replacement with subdermal pistons working as the jaw muscles. One of her eyes an advanced camera set in her skull, the other the most beautiful shade of brown. The eye reminded her of the soil of her garden.

Sisuma shambled into the bar, and when she did, the human woman sat up. "It's you." Sisuma fell to the ground. The Human woman, no, Ki-Ki. ran up and fell down to embrace Sisuma. "It's me, love. I'm here."

Sisuma put the garden she left in ruins to the back of her mind, that wasn't the garden she needed. However, now, in this moment, with the woman she loves, this is the spiritual garden that matters. The garden they made together blossomed in her soul. It would take some time, as all gardens do, to get it back to where it was. However, if she could remember how in love she was over all these years, she would gladly stick by her partner's side to see what beautiful things would grow.

[my-swan-song]

• writing masterlist •

{My Ao3}

Favorites are marked with ♥

•oneshots & drabbles•

Easter Egg Hunt

Bronte x Emery crack fic

“You died!” prompt - Sokeefe

“I’m stuck!” I’m stuck!” prompt - Brony ♥

Five times Biana didn’t kiss Sophie and one time she did  ♥

Oralie and Sophie family fic to avoid my family 

“Do not. Tempt. Me.” prompt - Brony

“Please. Never stop smiling.” - Songscen

Sokeefe - 24 hrs - what’s twenty-four hours you ask? i’m not telling you, but it’s angsty.

•multi-part•

Bronte x Emery Band AU | one | two | three |

Tam x Keefe Spy AU - coming soon

•headcannons•

Emery Human AU headcannons

Terik, Kenric, Elwin’s friendship

Young Emery headcannons ♥ (quite literally my greatest accomplishment)

Keefe as a Parent

Alden may be a traitor?

• Ship Headcannons •

Kam | x | x |

Bronte/Emery | x | x | x | x | x |

Sokeefe | x |

Detz | x |

Sophiana | x |

• other •

What I think the characters look like: | Tam & Linh | Bronte & Elwin | Kenric & Emery |

Alignment Charts: | x | x | x | x | x | x |

Keeper Crew’s Politics

•advice•

How I Outline ♥ (pls read, it took so long to type)

•misc.•

The Elven Government is Authoritarian: Here’s Why

An analysis of Keefe

Why people dislike Ben Affleck

On Sexual Expression in Fandom: And Open Letter to the KOTLC Fandom

Is Bronte Vespera’s Son?

🍞 ask | always open

Requests open? Yes! You can request things HERE

let me know if you’d like to be added to my fic taglist <3

[cadence-talle]

do you have any fic recs?

Oh, do I-

(disclaimer: all of these ships are gay because that’s what I read. If you want straight ships, go check out @eating-mooncakes​; she’s amazing.)

mlm fics

Royal Screw Ups (Keefex, Royalty AU, multichapter)

Ravioli Angst (Ravioli, angst)

guillotine (even when i lose my head) (Kam, hurt/comfort)

summer night (Keefe/Fitz/Dex, angst but i love it)

sunsets and sempiternal kisses (Keefitz, idk how to describe it but it’s beautiful)

Secrets (Ravoli, angst with a happy ending)

Love All Our Broken Pieces (Detz, Winnowing Gala. y’all knew I was gonna rec this, I’ve been screaming about it since day 1)

wlw fics

The Party (Sophiana, absolutely adorable)

Picnic (Marellinh, drabble, super cute)

Song Sewing Shop (Solinh, fluff)

Being as in Love with you as I am (Marellinhiana, get together)

Safe (Sophiana, comfort)

platonic Keeper crew fics

Game Night Bonding (the gang plays Uno, some background ships)

Scars (Sophie, Dex and Biana bonding)

Awesome Saucers (the Keeper crew starts a band! multichapter)

Hogwarts AU (KOTLC Hogwarts AU, multichapter)

reliable fic authors

@everyonehasthoughts

@an-absolute-travesty

@i-love-side-characters

@theofficialkai517

@linhamon-roll

@girlofmanyfandoms

[squishmallow36]

Ty for the tag!

Name: (not posting that on the internet)

Nickname: Panda

Zodiac Sign: Capricorn

Height: 5' 11"

Orientation: questioning

Ethnicity: there might be some polish in there?? And english??

Favorite fruit: watermelon

Favorite season: fall

Favorite book: Valkyrie by Kate O'Hearn

Favorite flower: I don't really have one

Favorite scent: garlic

Favorite animal: giant panda

Coffee, tea, or cocoa: Tea

Average hours of sleep: 9

Cats or dogs: neither

Favorite fictional character: Dex Dizznee

Dream Trip: Ireland

When was your blog created? I'm gonna go with 2020

Number of followers: 36

What do you post about? Kotlc, writing, detz, hcs

Do you get asks on a regular basis? Nope

Aesthetic: Dark Academia

Favorite band/artist:

Fictional characters I'd date/hang out with: Emperor Kai, Nova Artino, Adrian Everhart, Vane Weston, the entire keeper crew minus stina, Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Nico Di Angelo, Will Solace, Anubis from the kane chronicles, Alex Bailey from tlos, Freya and Archie and Kai and Araziel from Valkyrie. I'm probably missing some but that's good enough

Hogwarts house: *gag* no

Tagging: @anyone I already blew up most of my moots notifs today I don't need to add to that

I was tagged by the awesome @polymath4ever

Name: Emily

Nickname: Em, only by my grandmother though

Zodiac sign: Virgo

Height: 5′6

Orientation: Aromantic asexual


Ethnicity: White

Favorite fruit: Orange, with bananas as a close second

Favorite season: Right in the beginning of fall, when the air is crisp but not quite cool yet


Favorite book: It’s a tie between Catch-22 (one of the most hilarious books I’ve ever read, I totally recommend it) and the first Artemis Fowl book (I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down and read it in one sitting)


Favorite flower: Fuchsia tiger lilies


Favorite scent: Vanilla honey mix

Favorite animal: Cats allll the way


Coffee, Tea, or Cocoa: I like very specific types of tea, such as vanilla chai tea and extremely sweetened green tea

Average hours of sleep:  Depends on when I have to get up the next day, but usually five or six hours

Cats or dogs? CATS

Favorite fictional character: Makoto Tachibana hands down. He is the biggest sweetheart who cares so much about others that he tends to hide his own worries. Not to mention he is the best big brother and loves cats


Dream trip: I would love to go to a huge, quiet botanical garden someday

When was your blog created? Hmm 2013 or 2014? I didn’t join tumblr until a long time after most of my other friends did

Number of followers: 60 (I’m pretty sure half of them are porn bots. I hope they like anime)

What do you post about? I am very much fandom trash, so I reblog plenty of anime and video games. I write my own fanfics sometimes. Cats and other animals show up a lot too

Do you get asks on a regular basis? Nope, but if anyone ever wants to ask anything or talk, feel free to send me something ^_^

Aesthetic: A mix of classy and casual, and I prefer cool colors like blue and purple


Favorite band/artist: Probably Icon for Hire or Fall Out Boy? Halsey has been growing on me too

Fictional characters I’d date/hang out with: Totally Makoto Tachibana. Ann Takamiki and Onoda Sakamichi would be awesome too

Hogwarts house: Hufflepuff  

[crew-of-the-detz]

Return

Establishing connection..... 10...30....70....100% Complete Defrosting systems..... Power-Cycling Life Support.... Awakening Crew..... All Systems Online: Mainline Battle Carrier Detz Fully Optional Playing Recorded Message: Kev, it's.... well, it's Kev. Listen, I don't have a lot of time before we have to go under. All that you need to know is that you put the required information taped under your desk. If the files can't be decoded, get Johannson to help you. Also, one last thing. Welcome back to the world of the living you old bird, pity you didn't croak.

[crew-of-the-detz]

Crew Breakdown

Everyone on the Detz has their job. From helmsman to janitorial staff, everyone has a purpose. The pay is good when jobs are good, so everyone pulls their weight around the Detz. Kev, being a man of logistics, has broken the crew down into various branches. These are those branches.

Engineering division: They keep the ship running. From something as simple as a heat unit repair to full chemical lysing of reactor gunk these crewmates have you covered. Co-lead by Ketlek Qurenthi and Pamela Johansson

Gunners: The muscle of the Detz. It's their job to ensure any fighting outside of the cockpit is won, they perform anything between smash and grabs to full complex siege. Multiple officers exist in the Gunner branch, those of note include Herkendel Qysape, Henry Kenson, and formerly Finnegan Klove.

1st Detz Air-Corps: The pilots of the Detz. Skilled in the cockpit, only the best of the best survive to teach the next generation of pilots. Fighter Wingleader Yeqata Hilotso and Bomber Wingleader Jameson Corril

Business Espionage: Get inside information on universal mega-corperations. Then use this information to extort funds, leak funds, or rob funds from said mega-corperations. They keep the pockets of the Detz lined, CEO Peacock.

Artifact Recovery: Elite group of gunners that specialize in acquisition of relics of all sorts. Relics are either sold for millions of credits or implemented into the Detz. Implementated relics include prototype quantum computation, fuel injected reactors, blueprint for hexegonal plating, and the jukebox. Lead by Finnegan Klove

"Domestic" staff: Staff that include kitchen staff, janitorial staff, and non-engineer maintenance staff. Don't let the name fool you though, these crewmates aren't any less hard than the other crew. Once saw a gunner give a kitchen staff crap about "cut rations", so the kitchen staff fed him his fist. Of all the people on crew, make friends with these guys first. You might get an extra slice of ham or a cleaner room every now and again.

First rule of the Detz though, is respect a crewmate no matter their occupation, race, or background. Respect is what keeps the giant vessel of outlaws from killing each other

~Unknown Crewmate. Uploaded public document

[crew-of-the-detz]

Memes  2, Human Boogaloo

After the “Nobody but Klove knows how to drive” incident, Joq’Ethren had learned to drive under the supervision of the mysterious man kept on board known only as “The Driver”. The crew was grounded on some backworld planet and Joq wanted to practice his driving a bit. He had enticed Henry, Peacock, and Johnathan to come with him after a promise of stopping at a pizza place along the way. 

The road became congested and the cars began moving at a snails pace. Joq became annoyed and the Humans became bored, a dangerous combination. Joq stuck his head out the window to assess the situation, that’s when he saw the sign.

The damned sign.

Joq moved back into the vehicle, “Tch, Road work ahead.”

The car became silent, Joq realized what he had said but was already too late. Panicking he scanned the car using the rear-view mirror. All eyes were on him and a grin spread across the Humans’ faces. He struggled to find words to say, anything, Oh Ignua-ati, please anything. But he choked.

Henry’s mouth was first to open, a milisecond before the others. In a cacophonous moment all voices merged together in one discordent phrase.

“YeAH, i sURe hOpE It DOEsS!!”

Joq sat, nearly shell-shocked. He felt defeated, defeated by the human ploy of memes. He didn’t even notice the cars in front of him had moved untill a car honked behind him. He now knew what it was like when he hit Klove with the, “Like ya cut, G.” It was devestating, he did not sleep that night.

Ysembert is lifting in the gym. Obscuring helmet still on, but wearing a tanktop, binder, and track pants. The gym is empty ecept for them, everyone knew this was when Ysembert lifted and cleard out of the gym beforehand. 

The door slams open, a shockwave seeming to tear through the room, Alexi Serebrov had entered the gym. A week ago Alexi and Ysembert sparred for the title of strongest on the Detz, both collapsed due to overexertion and no winner was declared. Now it seems Alexi is back. 

A small crowd following Alexi wanting to see who will finally win. Ysembert sits down their weights, gears up, and steps into the ring. Alexi follows, both combatants take to their corners, a bell is rung. 

Alexi begins to nonchalantly moved towards Ysembert. Ysembert scoffs, “Actually coming closer, if I were you I’d have a little more self-preservation.”

Alexi’s cold flat voice creeps from his helmet, “I can’t beat the shit out of you without coming any closer.”

Ysemberts eyes flare beneath their helmet, and they scream a spirited warcry as a series of blows slam into the Russian. “ORARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARA”

The Russian winces and hits Ysembert with an uppercut before responding in kind, “MUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDA.”

This back and forth went on for nearly half an hour, the spectators in awe at the stamina and strenght portrayed on both sides. The crowd lit up with “Hit em!” and “Look at em go!” and “Is this a fuckin Jo-Jo refference?” and “What’s a Jo-Jo? Look at em fight!”

Both combatants, looking to finish this fight, swing at the same time at the same place. The sound of cracking glass fills the room as a shockwave is sent through the gym kicking up dust. The dust settles, both fighters still as stone with their fists planted against each other’s visors. 

Both visors cracked, but not broken. 

The two stand there for a moment, before returning to a relaxed posture. They remove their gloves, and in a miracle of a moment clasp their hand together in front of them flexing as intensely as they can.

One human gasps, “Yo! Its like the movie about the dudes who fight the thing in the jungle! Its beautiful!” It is, It is beautiful. 

After this, Ysembert and Alexi acknowledge each other as the strongest on the Detz. 

Aside from Goliath, I mean come on the dude is like nine feet tall, pure muscle, and has metal in his skeleton. Nobody is competing with that.

[alagalaska]

Wow, this was a great little read!

does being a pirate have its flaws it had on the old times. like being hanged and let to rot in the city or in the space rocks? a story about how the team finds a hunged pirate ship ? like they are all dead

Barbarism.

They call us the bloodthirsty ones. Sure, we bash in heads for money, steal when we have to to keep our ship flying.

But this, this was horrid.

We came across the ship and Kev immediately recognized her. She was captained by a Human woman named Jezebel, a right captain, not affraid to get her hands dirty but was fair in her dealings. The marks and holes from boarding tubes along the hull made Kev's blood run cold, he immediately set up search and rescue crews and deployed them immediately.

Should have sent the salvage crews instead.

Once the crews got to the pressurized sections of the ship, they realized the gravity of the situation. They found bodies, lots of bodies. Jezebel's crew and the crews that boarded. They weren't even sector security squads that were commonly deployed to apprehend pirates, this was something different that the pirates dreaded. They had ragtag uniforms, mismatched equipment, and crude painted armbands that had a skull and crossbones with a bullet hole in the skull. These groups were common out in the rim of the universe, they were vigilante groups, usually backed by mobs or governers wanting to get rid of pirates.

The hanger bay was the worst of it. They had lined up the crew and executed them, one shot per crewmate. They swept the corridors and found more of the same, untill they got to the bridge. Henry was on point, they heard him retch when he breached the door.

The bridge was empty, except for Jezebel.

She was hung by her feet, throat slit. She was a good woman, gone. Scrubbing through the computers, they found out they were on a refugee transport mission. Thats when it clicked in their heads, there were bodies in the hanger bay that werent in crewmate colors.

Blood began to boil, this is the space age, not the dark ages. Kev made a vow, take down the monsters that did this. They took what they could, planted charges, and put the ship and crew to rest.

Three weeks later, outer rim news networks told of the monsters on the Detz slaughtering a militia ship that was gallantly defending their home world. They commanded a moment of silence for the lost heroes. That same night, drinks were on the house on the Detz.

(While piracy is normaly dealt with by incarceration, the law on the rim where pirates thrive is loose. Some stations do in fact hang chunks of hull from the exterior that have the names of pirate ships)

[crew-of-the-detz]

Master-Post

I got my personal laptop repaired! Expect more content from me as I’m now liberated from mobile and able to actually make posts. Also, here’s all my posts sorted by character.

Kev:

The Detz

The Crawl

No One

Origins

серебров

Another year, check

Herkendel:

Revenge

How do you do it?

Elemental Juggernauts 

Fragments

Rage

Crawl Aftermath: Johansson and Herkendel

Young

Johansson:

Revenge

How do you do it?

Patty

Rage

Crawl Aftermath: Johansson and Herkendel

Klove:

Hideous Creature

The Gem

No One

Crawl Aftermath: Klove

Found You

Loss

Last Dance

Peacock:

Like a Peacock (personal fave)

Crawl Aftermath: Peacock

Joq’ethren:

First of his kind

First Impression

Fear 

Fifth Wheel

Goliath:

The Broken Shield

Goliath Note 1

Goliath Note 2

Yeqata:

Hidden Power

First.

Sisuma:

The betrayer

The human art of wearing a mask

Driver:

The Driver

Forgotten

Whole Crew:

Crew Breakdown

The Bar

Night on the town

The Debate

Before (teaser)

Misc:

My Final Mistake

Compendium of known species

*Revolted in Duajhaq*

Like a roach

Odd Union

Weaponry

Duajhaq reaction to human things

Beyond the limit

Intelligent Intimidation

Strength?

Languages!

Duality

The “messiah”

[crew-of-the-detz]

The human art of wearing a mask

It has been an interesting change of pace working on the Detz, especially as the only Greol crew.

I was put in the medical bay under the instruction of an older Human man. While I do not know his name, the other crew calls him Doc. Although his hair is grey and his body old one could tell he had a sort of skin condition is his youth, his pockmarked face creating a patchy white stuble.

He is, truth be told, a wonderful physician. On par with Greol doctors back on my home planet. A generally reserved and abrasive man, he only talks about work or the practice of medicine. The only time I've gotten him to say more than a handful of words was asking him about where he studied, or when he wants to know about how the Greol practice medicine.

A majority of the time however, he's a gruff old man. Slapping the gunners on the wrist and threatening "Do something that stupid again and I might just let you bleed out." And whenever someone thanks him for saving their life he grumbles and usually says something along the lines of "If you were really grateful you'd bring me some cigarettes."

However, I see into his dark green eyes. My mind, crippled by branding as it is, can still run its fingers along the surface of his own mind. And the truth is, behind that gruff mask he's afraid. Afraid of getting close to a patient, affraid of not being able to save them. He's had decades to work on his facade, and he's gotten good at his act. Every time we lose a patient, which does regrettably happen, he calmly takes a breath and informs the morgue. But one time, I tapped into his mind during a call and it was nothing but screams. Anger, largely at himself, for not being able to save whoever now lay dead on his table.

He is not the only one who wears a mask. There is a woman who comes into our operating room quite frequently, her name is Ki-ki. More mechanical parts than flesh and always with a smile pulling on the corners of her mouth. I've seen her around too, in the mess hall and around the bar. She always smiles at me, and some intuition I have always tells me it's fake. Once during an operation I took a look into her mind, and I shudder at what I saw. Nothing but fire, explosions, mangled corpses of friends laying on the ground. Herself going through a several dozen deaths before something in her jumpstarts her body back to life. And every time I probe into her mind it's almost always the same thoughts, "Why was it them? Why can't it ever be me. I dont want to live, just take me already."

Every time I peak inside her mind I am genuinely saddened for her, and I want to hold her. Give her a moment where she doesnt have to wear that mask, look into her remaining biological eye and say that she's here for a reason. But I am just a healthcare professional, and that would be overstepping my boundaries. Maybe I too, am guilty of wearing a mask.

Every Human seems to wear a mask, and although I cannot admit that I have peaked underneath I want them to know that there is no need. Or maybe for Humans there is a need, maybe seeing the ugly truths that they hold in themselves and in others could make them stop functioning. Or maybe its just polite to wear a mask.

From my interactions with Humans its more than likely a matter of selflessness. Why express your own troubles when other people have them? They truly are good beings, although they could work on taking care of and expressing themselves first.

Or maybe that's just too easy.

[crew-of-the-detz]

серебров

The men fired, but it was to no avail.

The figure in the leather jacket kept moving, with lightning reflexes it took down the first thug, then the second, then the third. 

The forth thug, a plain man, another washed up vagabond thrown in the outlaw game, stood panting back against a crate. “What are you?! What do you want? Please, you don’t have to do this! Kev will have your head!”

The figure in all black stopped. The man backed against the crate saw himself in the silvered visor of the things helmet. A voice crept through the helmet, cold, mechanical, not quite human. “Это просто работа, пожалуйста, не принимайте это на свой счет.”

The man stood baffled, “Please! I don’t know what that means!” He never got the chance to find out either, another one in countless number of dead the figure left in his wake. 

[Surveillance video recovered, reporting to Kev]

Kev saw the video, he watched as the figure trashed the place and made off with one small crate. He sighed, there was nothing he could do. He knew this figure, this man, this not quite human. Or, maybe know is too intimate a term, he heard the stories at the very least. This figure was called “The Russian”, a mercenary of the highest order. People say that he’s immortal, but that’s just talk. There’s countless reports of the Russian being blown to bits, thrown out airlocks, and similarly put out of commission. Always though, The Russian comes back to finish the job. However, the first recording of this Russian goes way back to before Human’s made contact with the other species. Surely, there’s some sort of school that trains these “Russians”. Must be, right?

Right?

Whatever the case, seems to Kev that someone wanted that crate. And it was important enough to send The Russian after it. Well, Kev thought, Time to be right civil with this Russian.

He wasn’t all that hard to find, Kev and Yeqata went to some dump bar way out in the middle of nowhere. Yeqata had been taught to be conversational in russian by Mikhail. They went in, and everyone took notice. The bar quickly vacated, and there alone in the middle of the bar sat the Russian. Black boots, blue jeans, black leather jacket, and an old Earth motorcycle helmet with a silvered visor. 

Kev and Yeqata pulled up chairs, The Russian leaned back in his chair, “Привет, Кев”. 

Kev leaned forward, pushing to his pull, “Let’s cut the shit. You took a crate from me, what was in it and who sent you.”

A cold scoff came through the helmet, “Это была твоя коробка”

“He says it was your box,” Yeqata nodded at The Russian, “He figures you should know what’s in it.”

Kev put a credit chip on the table, “Well, if you would be so kind as to point to who hired you.”

The Russian picked up the chip, looked at it for a second, then tossed it back to Kev who deftly caught it midair. “Я не беру кредит, Я хочу услуги для моей работы”

Kev looked over at Yeqata expectantly, “He says he doesn’t deal in credits, he wants services in return for his work.”

“What is it you want, I might be able to provide.”

The Russian moved his chair as close to the table as he could and leaned forward. “I want on your ship Kev, to be among your crew. Promise me this, and I will tell you.”

Kev was, shocked to say the least. Not only in his sudden change from old Earth russian to common spacer but in his request. Kev clicked his tongue, “I’ll expect you to work.” The Russian nodded. Every fiber in Kev’s being thought this was more than peculiar, but he was more curious than he was cautious at this point. 

He shook The Russian’s hand, The Russian stood and made his way to the door. “The woman who hired me, her name is Heidi Grimbold. Was very adamant that I get that ONE specific box.”

Kev watched The Russian leave and make his way back to the Detz. Kev leaned back in his chair and sighed. Klove’s personal war with Grimbold has gotten out of control. He had already caught one of her spies on board 2 months ago, and now 4 crew on an orbital station are dead with thousands of dollars of assets destroyed. He would have a conversation with Klove. 

A very frank conversation.

[crew-of-the-detz]

Night on the town

So, this is how everyone got arrested that night.

The Detz was docked over a free world to pick up domestic supplies. Food, cleaners, laundry detergents, the works. So the crew got a few days off to relax, take a load off, go dancing out on the town.

So dance they did, it had been what seemed like a life time ago since they last cut loose. Johansson looked very nice in her blue dress, Herkendel sported a black suit with matching blue tie. Klove wore a silver button down with a vibrant green bowtie, and Peacock decided it would be fun to wear a matching green dress with pink accents. Joq'ethren and Henry even decided to dress up, looking odd outside of their normal casual wear. Yeqata and her pilots looking very sharp, all in black and orange suits and pant suits.

The evening was going wonderfully, the crew dancing to the beat. Almost made them forget about the fact that any day could be their last, a job gone bad or system authorities catching up to them.

Then, Johansson went to the bar. Alone.

She ordered a drink, and felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned, and her breath got caught in her chest.

"Pamela. Is that you?"

It was Him.

The man she despised.

He looked older now, missing an eye with a polished metal plate to cover the socket. But his remaining eye gave that same stare that cut through Johansson like a knife.

"Pamela, what the hell are you doing here? You're with some of the most wanted pirates in the universe. Are you really this stupid?"

She couldn't speak, what could she even say? She'd been thinking of this moment for the past 2 years. The moment when she'd be strong enough to confront this man and be able to walk away feeling better about herself. But now, her calloused exterior was melted away and she had never felt more vulnerable.

She couldn't stop fixating on that eye of his, one of the set she would stare into as he tore her apart. She remembered now, "Why can't you be better?", "How could that have possibly worked?", "Shut up, try harder.", "Are you really this stupid?"

"Are you really this stupid?"

Something snapped, all the years of pent up aggression boiled over. Johansson screamed out above the music and planted her fist right square into his face.

Herkendel heard this, and rushed over to the bar. He arrived just in time to see Him recover and send Johansson to the floor with a firm backhand. He also heard the words, "Stupid pirate bitch." leave His mouth.

The world stood still for a second, somebody had just hit Johansson. And his face, it'd been described to Herkendel before. The face of Johansson's nightmares, the face of the man that was so cruel to her. How could humanity be so cruel to itself? To use words as weapons and destroy from the inside out.

Time resumed, and just like that, it started.

Herkendel ran, and shoulder tackled Him over the bar showering both in shattered glass. His friends went to go and join in, but Yeqata and her pilots moved to intercept. A knife was pulled and went to stab at Klove, the blade found nothing but hardened machinery in his left arm and Klove sent him to the floor with a headbut. Joq'ethren seemed to be fighting three at once, with a fourth up on his back attempting to choke him out. Peacock and Henry were back to back using a chair and a shattered bottle of booze as weapons. Jokto, who was late and just arrived, asked no questions and punched the first non-crewmember he saw after walking through the door.

Sirens sounded outside, and the local authorities rounded everyone up. Herkendel had to be pulled off of Him, His face little more than red pulp and bone fragments now. The air outside full of shouting and sirens, multiple squad cars were used to transport everybody back to the jail house.

Kev had been contemplating all day whether or not to go, and finally decided that he would. He arrived at the club and found nothing but a blood stained floor with shattered glass everywhere. He wasn't even surprised at this point. He sighed, and made his way to the jail house.

Herkendel and Johansson were put in the same cell, Herkendel immediately went to her. "Are you okay? Let me see your face, that bastard isn't going to touch you ever agai-"

Johansson grabbed Herkendel and pulled him close, weeping. He had never seen her this shaken. "It was Him Herk, it was Mike."

Herkendel held her, "He's gone baby, he won't touch you again. He'll never speak to you again."

Off in a hospital room, a man flatlined.

"Never again."

[crew-of-the-detz]

Origins

The bar of the Detz was normal for the first time in a long time. The unusual drama, new crew, and loss of crew had the bar in a state of extremes. Either pack full, or barren.

But now, the regulars sat at their tables, Johansson had I9 playing on the jukebox, and the crew was relaxed.

And now, they all sat around asking a simple yet crucial question.

"So, what was it like for you before the Detz?"

Herkendel shifted in his seat, "Well, before I signed on as a gunner I worked in a casino on Loktra. Worked the Human Blackjack table, was eventually 'let go' because I couldn't remember who I was supposed to let win!"

The table laughed and downed shots.

Joq'ethren turned to Johansson at the bar, "What about you engie?"

Johansson slammed a shot of pretty bird, "College, Human Fleet, Detz. Thats it." The table nodded and understood, Johansson's not really the sharing type.

Henry, who had been drinking all night, turned to Kev who had drinking alone at the other side of the bar. "What about you boss? What did you do before you started leading this rag tag group of shitlords?"

Kev set down his glass and the bar went quiet. Nobody had ever dared to ask Kev about his personal life. He was always the stoic figurehead of the crew, the man everyone turned to with unwavering loyalty, the man nobody knew on a personal level.

Kev stood, walked to the table, pulled up a chair, and sat.

"Well, I worked as a salesman for a ship parts company."

Everyone's jaw dropped to the floor. Ylin Kev, the ruthless pirate lord, a salesman?

"I can see the look on your faces, it's a true story. I called shipyards, sold them parts, and made money for the company. Was just another cog in the corporate machine. However, when my wife had our son it wasn't enough."

At the mention of family, eyes went wide with disbelief. Ylin Kev, salesman, family man, what next but a saint?

"So I got greedy. I started charging shipments at an increase of 15% and pocketing the surplus. Blackmailed clients, we all know Loktra is a seedy place. Had a good thing going for me. However, one shipyard was taken over by a Human man. I blackmailed him, and instead of paying of course he did what all humans did, he retaliated. Ruined his marriage, destroyed his family, but maintained his shipyard and sent me to hell in a handbasket."

Kev took a deep swig out of a bottle that was on the table, "So I was out of a job, couldn't support my family, what was I to do? Couldn't find work at any legit company, so I turned to gangs. Worked my way up, used brains instead of brawn, and eventually took over. I used my connections in the shipyards to find our home and the rest is history."

Peacock looked up from her drink at Kev, "And what about your family?"

Kev stopped for a second, took a deep breath, "Jorlana refuses to talk to me, but I send her money to take care of her and the boy. She divorced me and remarried after I took over the gang, so no real reason for me to go back." Kev slicked his feathers back with his hand and cleared his throat. Rage slowly built up in his core, its not fair that one Human who was willing to destroy their family should be able to destroy his. But Kev was a criminal, he got what was coming.

"Goodnight all." Kev blurted out his farewell awkwardly before he left the bar and retreated to his quarters.

The bar was silent, the music had stopped, the crew in near disbelief at what they were just told. But it was the truth, they had just been too afraid to ask.

Klove finished off his bottle of whiskey, "Well shit."

Slowly the bar emptied and the crew returned to their quarters. Alone, in the dark, Kev sent another encrypted message with attached credits.

"Tell Derjelno good night for me, at least so he knows his old man's still kicking."

"He doesn't know you Ylin, he doesn't care."

[crew-of-the-detz]

Rage

Humans are odd creatures.

The Duajhaq learned this simple truth when the first couple humans came aboard the Detz. They never truly portrayed what they were feeling. Depression was passed as glee, love could be mistaken for bullying, happiness mixed up as annoyance. But the most terrifying of them all was the general sense of calm a Human presented when they are enraged.

Herkendel entered the bar and sure enough Johansson was there nursing a bottle of Pretty Bird. It was late and the bar was empty, however something was different this time.

The jukebox was completely silent.

Usually the twang of acoustic guitars creakes out of the speakers whenever Herkendel and Johansson met, but now silence held the bar. Herkendel sat down, and Johansson didn't really seem to notice him. "Ey Johansson, you okay?"

Johansson without even looking up at him plainly stated, "No."

Herkendel wasn't expecting such a blunt answer, "Is it- Is it that document that went out?" The document describing how jobs on the Detz ran was made public and leaked to G-net news. Nobody seemed to mind though, sure Kev was worried of the potential security risk but soon he realized it was good press, made the crew look human.

Nobody cared, except for Johansson.

She nodded her head, "Yeah, yeah that." Nobody had known her name before that document was out, all anyone could ever find was the first letter no matter how hard they dug. Her papers from the Foxtrot, official college tranacript, and lack of birth certificate had always meant her official name was just "P. Johansson". The crew made bets on her name, offering a 10 credit note to guess, she made a lot of money that way. "I left that person in the past Herk, and now..." her grip tightened on the shot glass she was using "Now everyone is trying especially hard to find that person." She poured herself another drink and downed it. And seemingly unprompted nodded over to the g-net TV, "Kev is gonna have my ass for that."

Herkendel looked over at the TV, another thing that added to the absolute silence. Three bullet holes pocked the glass, and shatter lines ran through the entire screen. "Why did you do that?"

Now she was clenching her jaw, "A station got Richard and Samantha Johansson on live, both begging Pamela to come home."

Herkendel looked down at his hands folded on the table, "Oh."

Johansson sat there, glass empty. "Come home to what? Judgement? So they could control my life again? Critique every single choice I make, make sure to shove their two credits down my throat? Would my father go to the belt again to beat more love into me?" She exhaled, calmly, slowly. Then, suddenly, the floodgate was open. Johansson bolted up, the chair flew out from beneath her. Her fist holding the glass slammed against the table turning it to pulverized glass dust. Now she was shouting, "To get Mike back in my life?! Maybe so he could rip my work apart some more just for him to whisper in my ear at night, 'Oh Pamela, maybe if you were better'?! Why would I want that person back?" Then the pain caught up, her hand cut all over from the glass and the deeper color of a bruise beginning to form where she slammed the table "Ah [REDACTED]! Son of a bitch!" Herkendel stood and she whipped around to face him, "Im fine! I'm- I'm..." Then she burst into tears.

Herkendel had seen her cry maybe once before, but she always tried to keep her composure. But now, thrown against him was a sobbing Johansson, huge tears pouring down her face.

Herkendel had no idea what to do.

He had just seen almost every part of the emotional spectrum unfold before him in the past couple of minutes. But slowly, his arms wrapped around her, and Johansson clutched on to him. Then, he though of what to say. He gently put his hand beneath her chin, the sobbing stopped but her shakey breaths still shook her frame. He lifted her face so that their eyes were locked together, "I do not care who Pamela was," she blinks tears out of her eyes, "All I care about is who Johansson is."

A few second passed, then Johansson again exploded into sobs, burying her face in Herkendel's chest. He was unsure if this was a good or bad sign, guilt gripped his chest in fear that he'd worsened the situation. But from between sobs Johansson got out in broken words, "That's That's all I wanted to-to hear". And she squeezed him tighter.

They spent a few minutes calming down, and Herkendel took Johansson to the infirmary where one of the medics on staff patched her up. He walked her back to her room, and when they got to her door she grabbed his hands. He didn't think that her rough calloused hands would've been so soft. Eventually she looked up at him and said after clearing her throat, "Thank you."

She went up on her toes, kissed him on the cheek, and went to bed.

Herkendel, upon getting back to his room changed out of the tear and blood stained T-shirt. Then carefully wrote the nights events in his journal.

(Thank you for reading and thank you for all the support you've been giving! I know its been a while but I'm hoping to put things out a little more regularly, see you among the stars)

[crew-of-the-detz]

Like a Peacock

(Always wanted to do something like this, enjoy!)

"My love, are you ready?"

Jessica almost didn't hear the voice, being muffled from outside the door. Quickly she hops up off of her bed, perfumes her self, slides on her extravagant green and pink dress, then opens the door. There stands her husband, her pristine no flaws husband, her rich husband who provides for her.

God, he's so boring.

Not be misunderstood, she is completely grateful for her social standing and the fact her father found her a husband. But life, life grows boring. The same routine every day, wake up to go to some party socialize with some people to raise some money for some company. This was her day to day life. She might even have enjoyed it if she were running the show, but no, she is just a piece of arm cany for her ever so noble and just husband. She and Him, nothing the same. She has thoughts of adventure and actually leaving the manor they live in, he thinks the outside world to be impure and dirty. And heaven forbid he gets his 9 thousand credit Groffalin leather black shoes a tad dirty.

"Come dear, we go to Madam Sechovek's manor for another charity." This irks Jessica. Charity implies raising money for people who can't on their own, not raising money for an already multi-million credit mega-corperation. But regardless, Jessica followed her husband to the shuttle. And as the shuttle left looking down she could see the brightly colored neon signs that lit the streets below. She thought it sad that they decided to live above the people, literally, instead of with them.

They arrive at Sechovek's manor, some balding rich man gives a speech, they collect money, some other old rich man gives a speech blah blah blah. The "party" starts, stiff dancing to stiff tunes. But, somewhere in the middle of a seemingly millennia old waltz. A very distinct *ping* could be heard.

The room erupts into light.

Windows smash, guests scream, and Jessica who had been looking away from the initial explosion turns around to see them. While she in her sheltered life had never seen pirates before, she had read up on them quite a lot, these seemed to be pirates. She was so well studdied on Pirates that judging by the tattoos and insignias on their clothing, that they are Mr. Kev's men.

A tall Duajhaq man beats the closest man down befor stepping in to plain view. Jessica had never seen a Duajhaq outside of house staff before. "Alright!" His rough voice crowed out. "Bring forward the collected money and nobody needs to get hurt today!" Madam Sechovek herself brings the collected money forward, for her, the amount raised is nothing. But still the pirate eyed the handheld computer that contained the funds greedily. "Thank you kindly. Now, if ya don't mind, we're gonna lighten each and every individuals load a little. If you catch my drift."

The band of pirates split up and started to shake down each of those present. Joking and calling them greedy when they found credits on them not given to the "charity". A Duajhaq pirate approaches Jessica and her husband, he is an interesting looking man. Florescent green and pink tattoos spiral around every available patch of clear skin, even his face is a mosaic of greens and pinks. Everyone but Jessica cowers away, funnily enough Jessica's husband jumps behind Jessica to use her as a shield.

"Yer pockets. Gonna have to ask they be emptied."

Jessica, trying her best to conceal her excitement, steps forward. "Mate, you're not gonna find much dosh on me," the pirates eyes widen upon hearing her use less than formal language. "But these chumps," she points back to her husband and the group of cowering 'nobles', "they are loaded my friend." The pirate nods and walks past her, then shaking down each of the people behind her. She can hardly contain her excitement, this has never happened. And probably never will happen again, unless...

She rips the sleeves off her dress and marches to the center of the room. Before boldly exclaiming, "Which one of you [REDACTED] son of a [REDACTED] [REDACTED] is running this here shitshow!"

Everyone immediately stops what they're doing, old women faint and even a few of the pirates are blushing. The tall Duajhaq man that spoke earlier steps up, "I am, and who are you?"

Jessica throws her arms to the side. "Nevermind who I am! But I got some questions for you!" The Duajhaq man is obviously uncomfortable now. "How do you plan to escape after this? They won't care how many credits you're hauling, system authority will gun you down before you ever make it back to the Detz!"

"How did you-"

Jessica puts up a finger, "I am not finished! However, if you take a hostage," she gestures at herself, "No way in hell system authority will dare to fire a single shot."

The Duajhaq man looks around in disbelief, "Are- are you suggesting we take you, hostage?"

Jessica marches up to the Duajhaq man, and with as much strength she can muster siezes him by the collar of his leather duster. "If I have to go, to one more party, one more 'charity', one more arrogant pricks parlor room as just a decoration for a shallow man. I will do something HORRENDOUSLY stupid. So yes, please for the love of God or Jovohk or whoever." She gets right up in his face. "Take. Me. With. You."

The Duajhaq is expressing genuine terror, and the rest of the pirates are baffled as well. All around the rich guests are crying out and wondering what bout of hysteria has taken her. Eventually the tall Duajhaq clears his throat, "Yeah. Okay, okay lady we'll take you with us."

As the pirates left, Jessica stood on the ramp to the Pirates dropship that had smashed through a window. "Oh, and one last thing!" All the eyes in the room snapped over to her. Once she was sure that all eyes were on her, with both hands she gave the most graceful one finger salute before closing the ramp.

She sits down next to the tattooed Duajhaq that had shook her husband, or rather ex husband, down earlier. "Say, I absolutely love your tattoos. They're in my favorite colors!" She gestures to her dress as the Duajhaq man shifts his weight uncomfortably. "Mind showing me where I can get my own?"

The Duajhaq man looks at her bare arms and nods, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, I can color your skin something pretty. Like a peacock!"

The rest of the way to the Detz thats all they discussed, tattoos to make her like a peacock. Thats her nickname around the bar of the Detz now, Peacock.

Peacock now serves as a "business espionage" expert for Kev and crew, and she's damn good at her job.

[crew-of-the-detz]

First of his kind

The ship itself seemed to hold its breath.

The crew of the Detz watched, and made a path as the giant figure in their leather jacket made their way down the corridors. The Duajhaq crew simply moved to the walls, the Humans ducked into side rooms.

The door to the bar swung open, Kev was sitting at a table with a bottle of Pretty Bird. Kev poured himself a glass then offered the bottle to the hulking figure, they declined. "So," Kev began, "you do realize that most of the crew doesn't like your being here."

"Yeah, I got that vibe."

Kev leaned back in his chair, "But I myself don't partake in that prejudice. I believe work ethic and the ability to get a job done is what makes a member of my crew. Thats why I accepted your application to join my crew."

The figure nodded, "I understand. Appreciate it Boss. I won't let you down."

"May I make a suggestion? To make your transition here smoother?"

"I would appreciate it Boss, I'll take all the advice I can get."

Kev stood up, the massive figure stood up with him. "Make some friends, start with Peacock my Business Espionage CEO. She's Human but she's open minded." Kev offered his hand, "Welcome aboard Joq'ethren."

The giant Burso man lifted his massive clawed hand and gently shook Kev's hand. His large maw twisted up into a smile, "Thank you Boss. I look forward to working here, makin' history with you."

(Thought this up, I promise Im still working on the conclusion of the Crawl aftermath!)