#no idea if she has pedipalps or not (yet)

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 24: i've got a head full of chemicals, mouth full of ridicule

Goodbye note

3471 Words; Acrobat & the Spider

TW for the arachnophobic peeps bc gisu is a spider

AO3 ver

Gisu pushed open the door to the ballroom.

Or, well, it used to be a ballroom, but with the webbing and ropes and trapeze filling it, it wasn’t much a ballroom now. Maybe a bigtop? Indoor circus tent, now that was an idea!

Dion was lying down in the middle of the floor, his arms out to his sides as he stared up at the ceiling. It was weird, to see him so still—as long as Gisu had known him (which was both shorter and longer than she expected, huh) he had always been moving in one way or another, always full of anxious energy.

Well, what little she could pick up of his thoughts—damn curse, cutting her powers in half—was still anxious, at least. But it was more than his baseline.

Gisu walked over, coming to a stop a few feet away from Dion. His eyes flicked over to her, briefly, before returning to the ceiling.

“You okay?” She asked, sitting down. Well, more like letting her abdomen rest against the floor, all four legs splayed out around her, but it was the closest one could get to sitting when they were a giant spider monster, so it still counted.

Dion’s eyes closed, and he exhaled slowly.

The silence stretched on. Gisu pulled some spare thread from her spinnerets, twisting it between all four of her hands. Even so, her brain kept buzzing, latching onto Dion’s anxiety and bouncing it around in her head.

“They shouldn’t be waiting on me.” Dion said, finally, still staring at the ceiling. “They shouldn’t—I’m twenty-two. They don’t need to wait on me.”

Gisu said nothing. What could she say? She was the one who had asked Dion to stay here.

“And it’s not like I don’t get it.” Dion continued, “They’re worried. They have every right to be. But—” He swallowed, exhaling sharply as his jaw tightened and his brow furrowed, “I’m fine. I’m fine, and they’re—” He turned his head to look at Gisu, long brown curls pooling on the floor around him. “They’re losing money trying to find me.”

Gisu’s hands stilled as guilt washed over her. She’d done this. She’d asked Dion to stay here, with her, and now he and his family (his family, who he cared about so much it hurt) were suffering for it. This was her fault.

She should say something, anything to relieve the stress permeating the room. The room that they had been laughing and flinging themselves across only a day ago, chasing each other around and around without ever touching the floor.

Dion sat up, his legs folded in front of him. He wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his forehead on his knees, the buzzing anxiety of his thoughts hitting a crescendo. The bracelet that Gisu had made for him glinted in the light, and Gisu struggled to swallow a fresh gulp of guilt.

The silence stretched on. Gisu raised a hand to her mouth, gingerly tracing the edge of a chelicerae. Her fur had tickled him, when they kissed.

(But he had persisted anyway.)

Her chest had fluttered, when they’d kissed. She had felt on top of the world, she had felt wanted and pretty—

It was far from fluttering now.

“I miss them.” Dion admitted, his voice cracking. “I miss them all so much.”

“I’m sorry.” Gisu wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. She’d done this. She’d asked him to stay. She’d separated Dion from his family. This was her fault.

“If there was just some way I could talk to them…” Dion stared off into space, his arms wrapped around himself as he slowly rocked in place. His head was a mess of static to what little psychic senses Gisu still had.

Gisu turned her head away. She couldn’t look at Dion right now.

(She had never wanted to stop looking at him, never wanted to let him go.)

“None of us can leave the mansion.” Gisu said. “Sam can only control animals within the walls.” They had thought to use her minions as a way to talk to the outside world, when the curse had first been cast. They’d quickly learned that there was no talking to the outside world.

Dion muttered something. Gisu only caught the words Lizzie and gossip and treats, but now Dion was staring off into space contemplatively.

None of them could leave the mansion. It was a fact of their curse that couldn’t be changed. There was no way for them to contact the outside world—chances were it had long moved on without them, moved on while they were all stuck.

“Maybe…” Dion stood, snapping Gisu from her spiral. He was snapping his hand like he was trying to jog his memory, long legs powering him in a quick pace around the room. “That might work.” He muttered.

Gisu tilted her head. “What might work?” God, she could watch him for hours like this, full of energy. He already made for great background noise when she was working, rambling and muttering and moving—but when he had an idea? When his eyes lit up and he started walking on his hands trying to think through a problem? It was fascinating.

Dion didn’t respond, too lost in whatever he was thinking as he made his way out towards the door. Gisu managed to catch the image of a letter in his mind—and then he was gone.

Gisu huffed, annoyance briefly overriding her guilt. He could let her help! Maybe he had gotten it in his head that he had to handle it all on his own—Gisu was no stranger to that kind of thinking, loathe as she was to admit it.

Gisu frowned, and looked back up at the ceiling. Maybe Dion was right to want to do this—whatever it was—himself, she thought, as she looked at the webbing and rope strung up across the room, at the giant improvised trapeze. It had started as Dion’s project, when Gisu had handed the room over to him to do with as he wished—and then she had gotten her grubby hands all over it and added webs all over. And it had been fun, running around up there, her spider paws gripping the ceiling while Dion flipped from perch to perch like a budgie on crack—

But was this what Dion had envisioned, when he’d started building his makeshift trapeze? Or had he wanted something closer to the home that he missed? Were her additions even wanted at all?

(He had kissed her like he wanted it, like he wanted her—

She wanted him. She wanted him to want her. And not just to break the curse.)

Gisu had asked him to stay—with the (false, but he still fell for it) threat of keeping his younger brother instead—and he had stayed, but it wasn’t fair. Not to Dion. Not to anyone.

Gisu clenched her hands into fists. “I did this.” It was just like her, really—always screwing up in one way or another. Whatever Dion was planning to do with his letter, it was only because Gisu had asked him to stay.

“What would you even do?” She asked the door. What was Dion even planning? There wasn’t really a way to get the letter out of the forest. None of them could leave the mansion.

Gisu paused. None of them could leave the mansion—

None of them except Dion. Dion, who had agreed to stay on Gisu’s request, but who wasn’t beholden to the curse. Dion, who loved his family so much it almost hurt to hear him talk about them. Dion, who Gisu wanted so badly just because he made her feel wanted—

Gisu stood. She had messed up, but that was just part of being an engineer.

It was time she did something to fix the mess she’d caused.

+=+=+=+=+

Am I really going to do this?

Gisu wrung her hands—all four of them. All of her fur was standing on end, all of her senses screaming danger at her. Yet still, here she was, one of her hind legs twitching in anticipation.

Still, she had to do this. It was for the best.

Steeling her nerves, Gisu pushed open the study door. There were quite a few studies in the mansion, truth be told, but there was only one that was really used regularly. And she could faintly feel Dion’s mental print in there, so it wasn’t even a guess—she knew he was in there.

And there he was, hunched over balancing on his toes in a chair, writing something on a piece of paper—the letter Gisu had seen in his thoughts?

Dion looked up at her entrance. He blinked, looking like a deer in headlights for half a moment before his face split into a wide grin. “Hey, Паучок.”

Gisu almost snorted at the nickname—almost. She couldn’t let herself get distracted; she had a job to do. She maneuvered into the room with some difficulty—truly, this mansion was not quite built for giant spider monsters—and stood there, trying to gather the words.

Dion turned back to the desk.

Right. It was now or never. If Gisu didn’t do this now, she’d never find the courage. “You need to leave.” Gisu started. It was for the best, really—Dion deserved better than some run-down mansion and a monster who only messed everything up.

Dion looked at her, his brow furrowed. “Why?” And oh, there went Gisu’s resolve—

No! She could still do this! It was for the best, even if it hurt!

“You can’t stay here.” Gisu continued, wringing her inferior hands nervously. “You shouldn’t stay here.” Dion wasn’t the kind of guy who could just leave his family behind, he deserved to see them again and put all of this behind him—

“What are you talking about?” Dion had come to stand in front of her, his hand cupping Gisu’s face just behind her chelicerae. “Is there some kind of danger?”

Gisu pulled away and shook her head. “Please, Dion.” She urged. “You need to leave. You need to go home.” Because this wasn’t his home, this was just a building she’d trapped him in, and he deserved so much better than some monster who only wanted him around to break her curse.

“What’s gotten into you?” Dion’s thoughts were quickly becoming static stress against Gisu’s head. She wished she could see all of his thoughts, could understand how he felt about this—no, that was invasive. Just another way that Gisu messed everything up.

“I’ve had some realizations, that’s all.” Gisu explained. “It’s not fair for you to be stuck here.” Not with her.

Dion frowned. “Gisu, I promised to stay here—”

Gisu grasped his hands in her superiors, her inferior hands still wringing. “But your family—”

Dion’s face fell. He looked away. “It’ll work out. They’re strong.” He murmured. A moment later, he looked back at her, resolve in his eyes. “I’m going to let them know I’m okay, or they’ll give up and move on.”

“But you miss them,” Gisu stressed, “You’re homesick, Dion, don’t try to deny it.” Dion needed to get out of here. It was for the best.

“Of course I’m homesick!” Dion leaned in closer, “But it’s okay, okay? I’m an Aquato. I can make this mansion home.” His eyes closed, and he ran his thumbs over Gisu’s hands.

Gisu pulled her hands away. “No you can’t.” She muttered.

“And why not?” Dion put his hands on his hips, “Why can’t I stay here?” He crossed his arms. “Well?”

“You need to leave.” Gisu repeated. It was for the best. “You should be home, with your family.” She stressed. “Please.”

“What part of ‘I’m okay here’ are you not getting?” Dion grit out. “Gisu, I’m not trapped here. Not with you.”

The words hit Gisu like a hammer. She flinched back, all of her resolve leaving her—

No. No, Dion needed to leave. It was for the best.

“No, you don’t get it!” Gisu grabbed Dion’s shoulders in her superior hands. “You’re not supposed to be here, Dion, you’re not supposed to be trapped in his hellhole with me.” She stared him down, all but begging him to just give up, “You could have left at any point. You should have left at any point.” He shouldn’t be here, stuck in this decaying mansion with her. It was for the best for him to leave. It was for the best.

Dion grasped her inferior hands in his. “But your curse—”

“Enough about the curse!” Gisu shouted. Like it would ever break, anyway. “You couldn’t break it even if you tried.” Wait, no, that wasn’t what she meant to say—

Dion’s eyes widened. “Then what was the point of me staying here?” He asked, his voice starting to rise in pitch. “What, are you not actually cursed and you’ve just been lying this whole time?”

“Maybe I have!” Gisu tore her hands away from his, throwing all four of them into the air. “It doesn’t matter!” Yes, good, she needed him to get angry, needed him to leave before she broke something she couldn’t fix. She loomed over him, straightening her forelegs to get as much height as she could—they were about eye-level, now.

“It doesn’t matter.” She shoved out at him with her superior arms. “Leave.”

Dion stumbled back several steps. “Gisu?” He sounded so small.

“You heard me.” Gisu growled. “Get out.” It was for the best. It was for the best to let Dion go.

“What is wrong with you?!” Dion shouted. “First you’re all over me and now you’re telling me to leave?” At once, his anger fell, worry filling his features. “Mio cara, what’s going on?”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!” Gisu’s anger hit a fever pitch. She shoved, knocking Dion bodily to the floor and following him down. “You idiot.” She growled, her voice threatening to crack. Her eyes stung. She planted her superior hands to the sides of Dion’s head. “You shouldn’t BE HERE!” It was for the best.

Dion stared up at her with wide eyes. His chest heaved.

Gisu leaned in closer, all of her thoughts falling away. “I could crush your head.” She growled, “Right between my mandibles.” She grabbed his jaw with one of her inferior hands, holding it harshly. “I could bite you and you’d die from the venom in my fangs.” She tightened her grip, drawing a small gasp from Dion. “I could kill you. You shouldn’t be here.” She let go of Dion’s jaw. His head fell back to the floor, and his eyes slipped shut as he wheezed a shuddered exhale.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Gisu asked, her anger pounding in her skull. “Of course it does—I’m a monster.” She grinned, anger baring her teeth. “So leave.”

Dion stared up at her, his eyes wide.

“Run away.” Gisu snarled, still looming over Dion. “Run away to your real family and let them make it all better for you.” She leaned in closer—

The room spun as Dion’s fist slammed into her face, forcing her up and backwards. Dion scrambled out from under Gisu as she held her head in her hands, stars dancing across her vision.

She looked up at him. Dion had a hand held over his mouth, absolute horror in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he started, “I didn’t mean—”

Gisu growled. “Get out.”

Dion wasted no more time arguing with her.

His footsteps faded out down the hallway, on and on until Gisu couldn’t hear them, couldn’t feel the vibrations in her legs.

She exhaled shakily, and stood.

The room was so quiet, now.

Still, Gisu reminded herself as she made her way to the door, it was for the best.

Even if it didn’t feel like it.

+=+=+=+=+

Gisu grunted, driving her screwdriver into the head of the screw. Taking things apart and putting them back together was supposed to be therapeutic. And it was, but—

Gisu growled, burying those thoughts. It was her fault, anyway—she was the one who went and got attached to something she could never have.

“Uh, hey, Gisu?” The radio next to her workstation crackled to life, Morris’ voice coming in steady. “Why did Dion just climb over the wall?”

Gisu regarded the radio for a moment, before returning to the broken clock in her hands. “He left.” She said.

The radio was silent for a moment.

“Wh—why?” Morris asked. “I thought he was all over you?”

“He got homesick.” Gisu explained, “So he left.” It was for the best, anyway. Dion deserved so much better than a monster.

“Okay, no way.” The radio crackled. “I know what it sounds like when you’re hiding something.” Morris accused, “So spill.”

“I made him leave, is that what you wanted?” Gisu threw one of her superior hands out as she spoke. “He was better off back with his family, anyway!”

There was silence for a moment. Then—

“Gisu.” Morris’ voice was edged with incredulity. “What the fuck.”

Gisu grumbled. “It’s over.” She muttered. “He’s gone.”

“No, genuinely,” Morris continued, like Gisu hadn’t spoken at all, “What is wrong with you?”

Gisu froze. “What are you talking about?” She’d fixed the problem. It was for the best.

“I’m talking about the fact that you chased away the one good chance of breaking the curse because what, you were too afraid to confront your own feelings?” Morris’ voice crackled with static, like nails against the chalkboard of Gisu’s ears. “Oh, sure,” He went on, “You’ll read all your romance novels, write all your silly self-insert fanfiction, but the moment you find yourself caring about something that isn’t mechanical you get too scared to do anything but shove it all away.”

Gisu snarled. “Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Dion’s family was important to him, it wasn’t fair to keep him here—

“Ha!” Morris snorted. “Please! You barely even care about the rest of us!” He accused, the dials on the radio darting back and forth. “I bet the only reason you care about me is because you can just pretend I’m another one of your stupid machines!”

Gisu gasped. “I care!”

“Really?” Even without a body, Morris’ agitation came through loud and clear. “Because I’m pretty sure chasing away the one solid chance for me to get my body back is the opposite of caring!” The radio made a slamming noise, then a string of honks and whistles—Morris was getting really worked up, now.

“We’re all cursed!” Gisu slammed her inferior hands on the table. She crossed her superior arms, giving up on the broken clock laid out before her. “Stop making this about yourself!”

Morris’ voice was incredulous. “I’m the one making this about myself? Have you looked in a mirror?” He huffed, “Of course you haven’t.” He muttered. “Because then maybe Lizzie could knock some sense into you.”

“I’m not the one who needs sense knocked into them.” Gisu shot back. “I keep this mansion running, you know!” She started counting on her fingers. “I keep the lights powered, I keep the heaters from falling apart—I’m the one who makes sure all these radios actually work!” Yeah, Adam and Sam handled the firewood and keeping the mirrors clean, but still. Without Gisu, there’d be nobody to power and fix the radios.

“That doesn’t mean you get to chase away the one chance we had of getting uncursed, Gis!” Morris yelled back. “You don’t get to make that decision for us!”

“Oh, like there won’t be other chances.” Gisu snarled through gritted teeth. “You don’t need to be so impatient.”

Morris sighed. “I want my body back, Gisu.” His voice was heavy with grief. “I want to be able to see colors again, and not just my own noise reflected back at me.” The radio clattered. “But you don’t get that, do you? You still have your body.” He laughed hollowly. “Your curse is that you’re ugly.” Morris remarked, “And the guy you liked didn’t even care about that.” The radio went silent, then, leaving Morris’ remark to hang in the air like smoke.

Gisu yelled, sweeping the radio off of its stand. It fell to the floor with a clatter, but remained silent.

Gisu stared at it, her chest heaving. Her throat got tight, all four of her eyes started to sting—

Fuck. As much as she wanted to deny it, Morris was right. She’d messed up. She’d messed everything up.

Gisu let herself fall to the floor, arms curling around herself. “Fuck.” She sobbed.

She’d fucked up. But it was too late, now—Dion had already crossed the outer walls. There was nothing Gisu could do to fix the mess she made.

She laughed darkly. “At least I can’t fuck it up worse.” Doing so would be hard—even for her.

That fact wasn’t a comfort.

[karniss-bg3]

Writing prompt! Imagine Kar'niss and Tav actually getting into a disagreement about something relatively serious (something other than Kar'niss just getting grumpy about not feeding the shadows), and it being a moment of realization for one or both of them that Kar'niss is growing as a person to be more than just a yes-man to a perceived "majesty"

Weeks had passed since Tav’s arrival at Moonrise. During their stay they had bore witness to many incidents that made their skin crawl, atrocities which cemented in the idea that this may not be the place for them. They were in the process of packing their things, stuffing articles of clothing and supplies into their bag in a hurried fashion. Their mind often drifted to Kar’niss, one of few individuals in the accursed place they felt even a sliver of sympathy for. Yet he seemed cemented in place, unwilling to budge from his devotion, putting Tav in a conflicted state of mind. Distracted as they were they didn’t hear the soft clicking that moved along the wall, their concentration broken by a voice tucked away in a high corner.

“What is the True Soul doing?”

Tav whirled around, their heart rate kicking into high gear from the sudden intrusion. Their gaze drifted to see several reflective eyes peering at them from a darkened corner, watching Tav with an intensity that was slightly off putting. They often forgot there were many holes the drider could squeeze through if he wished it.

“Kar’niss, you startled me,” Tav said. They placed their hand on their chest in an effort to steady the rapid thumping within their rib cage. “I’m packing. I don’t think this is where I belong.”

Kar’niss’ pedipalps curled tight to his body, inching from his perch near the ceiling to creep closer to the ground. “True Soul is...leaving?”

“Yes,” Tav murmured, “I think that is for the best. I realize you hold loyalty to your Mistress but I at least ask for a head start before you inform the others. I’d like to think I’ve earned your trust enough for that much.” Tav swung their pack over their shoulder while turning to face the perplexed drider.

He frowned and climbed off the wall, his legs carrying him across the floor to bridge the gap between himself and Tav. “A traitor, a heretic…?! How dare one of Her faithful abandon Her!” He arced up while his front legs lifted into an aggressive stance.

Tav didn’t budge, reading Kar’niss’ face, able to see a tinge of uncertainty within his features. “No, how dare She treat one of Her faithful the way She does you.” Tav snapped, their chest pushed out in an effort to stand up to his advance.

“Wh—What? True Soul speaks lies. We are Her chosen, Her devout! We should rip out your blasphemous tongue!” Kar’niss shifted from side to side in an anxious trot, his hand retrieving the sword at his back.

“I am the first that has spoken any truth to you at all, at least in these walls. Don’t you see how they treat you? You’re less than dirt on the bottom of a shoe to these fanatics. They have one goal and they don’t give a shit who dies to obtain it. That includes you.”

“No, NO! Majesty loves us, She did not see an abomination in us. She saw a soldier, strong and loyal. A guide to shepherd Her followers into Her light. We are important!” Kar’niss’ breathing increased in pace, the grip on his sword hilt so tight that his knuckles grew ghostly pale.

“I don’t see you as an abomination either. Does that count for nothing? Who else besides me has spoken to you since I’ve been here? Who played beautiful music for you while you stood alone at the top of the tower?”

“But—“

“Who bandaged your wounds when the rest left you to die? Who called you by your name? Not drider, not web-arse, not eight-legged freak. Kar’niss!”

His hands trembled, his eyes darting around in confusion. “W-Wuh—We...are Her chosen. We are nothing without Majesty’s light…” His voice trailed off, wobbled and in pain.

“Which is the lie they have been feeding you since the beginning. But I don’t believe that, not for a second. I think you’re better than playing puppet to some selfish deity. You should come with me, leave this wretched place. Rise above the expectations of someone else.”

Kar’niss backed away from Tav as if he had been struck with a weapon, visibly panting from a growing panic. “They do not know us! They think they can barge in and try to lead us astray!”

“I am trying to lead you astray because I don’t want you to die here!”

“What does it matter if we die? Our lives are forfeit, we belong no where! We are nothing!” Kar’niss’ voice raised, his body lifting up more so as his inner anger churned deep within.

“Stop it, it’s NOT TRUE!”

“IT IS!”

“Tell me what the fuck you want!” Tav yelled as they stepped forward, invading the drider’s space despite how volatile the situation had grown.

“I—We…”

Tav marched up and poked Kar’niss directly between the pedipalps. “Don’t hold out on me now, speak for yourself for once.”

“Be silent!”

“Tell me, TELL ME!”

“To be more than THIS!” He cried, the grip on his sword lost causing it to hit the ground with a loud clang. His entire body quivered while he backed away from Tav. His form once puffed up and aggressive shrank down considerably, tucking himself away into a corner. He put his face in his hands, the sob he bit back escaped, a torrent of emotion unleashed. “I want to be more...than this.” His words were muffled by his hands, dripping with pent up anguish he kept locked away for far too long.

Tav exhaled a heavy breath while they rubbed the back of their neck, doing their best to calm down after the heated exchange. They wandered over to where Kar’niss sought to hide away, a frown etched over their features. “As do I. Please don’t give up, there is more for you out there than you may think.”

His hands lowered to reveal his face which was smeared with moisture. He stared at Tav a long moment to think over what was said, struggling to process it. Before he could respond the sound of quick footsteps were heard approaching the room. The door thrust open and a half-orc woman known as Z’rell entered.

“What is going on? We heard a commotion from downstairs!” Her eyes darted to Tav with scrutiny then wandered over to Kar’niss who looked upset. “Drider, you are meant to be on patrols. You’ve been asked not to hassle the True Soul. Must we take you to the dungeons for reeducation?”

Tav frowned while Kar’niss sucked in a sharp breath, his fear of such a fate radiating from his very pores.

“No, Disciple Z’rell. He is not hassling me,” Tav said.

The half-orc’s upper lip curled, taking note of the packed satchel over Tav’s shoulder. “And where is it you’re going? You’ve not been given any assignment.”

Tav’s breath hitched in their throat, their gaze wandering over to Kar’niss. They knew he could out them at any moment as he knew of their plan to leave. A silence fell over the room, each party involved looking to one another, the tension thick in the air.

“W-With us,” Kar’niss said. “We are to retrieve new followers, it is Majesty’s will. With a True Soul they will be more willing to follow an a-abomination.”

Tav’s eyebrows lofted with some surprise. They watched Kar’niss’ features, able to sense it pained him to lie and yet at the same time it was an odd sort of relief to him.

Z’rell huffed. “Very well, if it is in service to the Absolute. Do not be gone for long, we march for Baldur’s Gate soon. And for fucks sake keep it down.”

Both Tav and Kar’niss nodded. “Of course Disciple Z’rell, we understand. Thank you,” Tav said.

The warlock rolled her eyes and left the room, closing the door behind her with a firm slam. The pair left behind exhaled in unison, as close of a call as either could’ve expected. Tav turned to the drider who was still a little dazed and pensive.

“You saved my neck. Thank you, Kar’niss.”

He shook his head while rubbing his hands together in a nervous fervor. “She will be angry with us. We will be punished, She will take Her light away.”

Tav stepped in closer and reached out to cup his face in a bold move, guiding his chin to look at them. He was startled by the touch unsure how to react to it, but he wasn’t wholly opposed to the contact. “We will find a new light. Come with me, leave this place. Be more than this.” They paused and made eye contact with him. “Please.”

His lips trembled while his legs shuffled with hesitation, one hand rubbing at his plated arm in uncertainty. He had never defied the Absolute before, never even considered it. When he looked at Tav he felt things he couldn’t yet understand. Everything they said had been true even if some pieces were still difficult to fully accept. They were one of Majesty’s True Souls, maybe it meant more than he was meant to know.

“I...will go with you, True Soul. But we are afraid.”

Tav bowed their head and nodded. “I am too. Take comfort in the fact that we’ll be together. I won’t hurt you, I won’t make demands. Trust in me.”

Kar’niss’ brows knit, the very idea of trust a foreign concept all its own. “I will try.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

Kar’niss followed Tav out of the room, the pair wandering past the guards without incident. Kar’niss’ eyes darted around nervously as if certain all around him knew he was leaving for good, certain someone would call out their betrayal. No one did, not a peep to be heard from the residents within, all too self absorbed in their own goals and desires to care about the drider’s or Tav’s intent. They’d exit Moonrise tower and march away from it’s looming shadow toward Baldur’s Gate. Kar’niss stopped on the road to look over his shoulder at the building he’d called home for sometime now. A lingering sadness hung over him, the push and pull of desperation for the Absolute’s acceptance locked in a bitter battle with his deep rooted desire to carve his own path. He couldn’t be sure this was the right choice or even if he fully believed in it, brainwashed as he was. But there was a tiny voice growing within his mind, a spark of free thought that told him to follow Tav into the den of the unknown. For better or for worse this was the voice he chose to listen to. He ripped his gaze from Moonrise and looked ahead to Baldur’s Gate, dutifully marching behind Tav to seek out new horizons, his fate left hanging in the balance.

A crack had begun to form in the foundation of his faith. It would be up to Kar’niss if he wanted to nurture the sprouts of change—or stamp them out as weeds.

[marinerainbow]

Twyla: So Poppy's looking for some tarantulas, huh? OK, well...there are plenty in the world to choose, but here are the Top Three I believe she will find quite extraordinary! 😉

Here is the Blue Cobalt

The Purple Pinktoe

And last, but certainly not least

The Emerald Skeleton Tarantula

Sorry if the photographed images aren't top-quality 😅

I have another question for you, if that's OK. Are you comfortable with me tagging you in the future chapters, including 2 and 3? It's absolutely OK if you haven't read Chapter 1 yet, I just wanna make sure you have them once I post. I asked Slashing and she gave me the OK, I hope it's cool with you

OMG, I'm gonna blow up the inbox. My bad! 🤣 😂

!!!!!! Oh my gosh! All these 'lil guys look so beautiful!!! I knew about blue tarantulas, but I didn't know there were PURPLE ones!!

Actually- here. Let's let Poppy answer this one.

~

The rabbit toons' eyes were blown wide. And with her dark brown eyes, it almost looked like a night sky with how starstruck she had become. Her expression remained still and in awe for a few seconds before a big grin pulled at her lips and an excited squeal left her lips. She had tried to cover her mouth with her paw before the sound left her, but it was too late. Even if she had caught herself in time, her ears flickering happily would have been a dead giveaway, "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! They're so beautiful!!"

And just like that, the floodgates had been burst open, as she embraced her toony self; her words pouring from her mouth at the speed of light as she comically dashed to and fro between the three pictures, "There are purple and pibk tarantulas!? I had no idea! She looks just like Shiny! Such a beautiful predator! You said she's a Purple Pinktoe, right? Oh, but the Blue Cobalt!! He's like a walking saphire!! Look at all those gorgeous shades! And the Emerald Skelaton Tarantula!?! Look at those eyes! Those pedipalps!! So adorable! he looks like he got a splash of paint on his abdomen. So artistic! And-"

~

Yeah, Twyla better be ready to stand there for hours. This is the most excited Poppy has been since Phantom of the Opera was adapted into a stage play! XD

I offer you; this little comic is Twyla and Poppy when it comes to insects

While everyone else is in horror, these girls are just like Fluttershy XD

And yes. I would love to be tagged! Thank you for asking ^^

[noiizemaze]

In your arms, I know mercy. In your claws, I know absolution.

And in the sweetness of your venom, the beauty of your kiss- I know peace.

You are my Queen, and always will be.

“I’m not sure I deserve that kind of surety,” Tarantulas murmurs, working a strand of webbing back and forth between three of her hind legs before pulling it around with a pedipalp to fasten it in place. “The idea that you find comfort in my presence is absurd. I am every trait the Cybertronian mind has been programmed to instinctually fear, and yet here you are.”

More webbing spins free. She’s building a hammock.

“Then again, you always were an unknown variable, weren’t you?”

[sienna-writes]

DELUGE - short story wip

Right off the bat let me clarify that I am new to writing short stories. Generally my forte is flash fiction, the longest stories I’ve written maybe about 5000 words and primarily I like to focus on poetry. However! I've recently been very inspired to write longer prose and decided with quarantine cancelling everything that this was the perfect time to immerse myself fully in writing!

Don't take anything I say for doctrine as it is most definitely not! I am confident with my writing (to an extent, I have lots of room for improvement) but I would still consider myself an amateur when it comes to writing short stories!

My writing process so far —

Honestly, I thought it would be a very challenging shift from poetry and flash fiction into a 10000+ word story, but I've been having a lot of fun with it, and I'm proud of the quality of writing!

I am for sure a pantser.

I didn't outline, the ideas came to me quickly and relatively fully formed, and I did developmental edits all the way through so the plot remained tidy and coherent. As I wrote, more ideas came to me throughout the process.

Often I feel like not planning helps me progress the plot, because it leaves me constantly wondering what I need to do to reach the climactic point of it all. For me it helps to not know all the answers and figure it out intuitively, rather than write down all my ideas (even if I do have them in my head) because that way tends to leave me feeling trapped. I like to be flexible when I write, and live inside the characters as they are living inside the world I'm crafting around them. (I hope this makes sense...) Knowing all the answers off the bat also detaches me from the story in a way, I like to be actively seeking answers and thinking about my story.

This quote summarizes these ramblings perfectly:

“Writing is easy. You only need to stare at a blank piece of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead.”

- Gene Fowler

:)

Anyway! This approach has been working super well, and I'm so glad. Developmental edits as I go through have helped me keep on track and maintain a clear grasp of the pace and atmosphere of the story as I work through it. I’m really glad I wrote in this way.

I wrote 3000 words on the first day of writing, and about 2800 on the second. Then I went through it all, editing and mulling the plot over. The next days were a bit slower and I'm still working through a road block I have hit with the progression of the plot. Currently the story is just over 10000 words and I had a good brainstorming session this morning and a rough idea of how to work through my crisis.

"I think it was the wind - torrents of it piercing and stabbing my face like pine needles - that set off the tidal wave. Boiling over, bits of brain formed mucus in my nose and my cheeks grew rain-washed with tears. The turbulent water roiled and churned, columns of it waved, welcoming my carcass and isolating my soul on the shoreline."

As you can see from this excerpt, the narrative is first person retrospective. I wanted an intimate feel so the audience could glean these intricate, slightly odd inner workings of the main character Charlie's mind. I think it works well for the style and helps her voice shine through effectively. She has a vivid internal world and this perspective makes the most sense as a way for this to be illustrated.

You also get some nice allusions to her oddness!

When we meet Charlie, she is being fired from her job (a journalist) for “causing a scene” - we learn later what this is about as the story progresses. We follow her messy journey through early adulthood, she is 27 and reflecting upon her past, all the casual rips and tears of life that lead her to where she ends up.

Grappling with trauma from college after being sexually assaulted, the plot tells of how our pasts can shape us and the routes we take in our lives, it explores chance encounters and how those can blossom into lifelong connections, and also the connections formed from our youth that can be undying. It’s on the verge of being YA but I think it’s more leaning toward an adult fiction story. I’m not sure yet if I want to extend this story into a novel, as I’m becoming really attached to the characters, but we’ll see as it progresses!

Some more excerpts -

Potential TW - I didn’t want the flashback to the assault to be too explicit, but it is still about and mentioning the assault. Here’s a section from it! I experimented with changing the perspective, and second person worked really well to show how painful the experience was.

...Your waterlogged mind found itself thinking of anything but now, anything but his breath on your neck, his palms kneading your underbelly like a pig in a slaughterhouse. Of your mother and how beneath her fingernails little roses unfurled and dribbled down your arms, ridden with thorns and stinging your skin. That had hurt, but it had never been as painful as this. You thought of pavements and how they interweaved like crosshatching but here, here, they formed a hopscotch on our playground. How sometimes nature had a way of rupturing the dull floor tiles with swollen roots and bruised the tarmac. How this blemish made the tiles collide, violent and convulsive. Tectonic plates pressing against your lips. Suddenly, it’s him again. A serpentine hand sliding down your back. You are not a snake charmer. You writhe but can’t seem to get him to stop.

I like this one because it shows Charlie being bitter and angry. (does this make me a bad person?)

...There was a barcode on my forehead. My eyes shifted from face to face, they were bidding. I was an ornament at a fucking auction.

And this will be the last one I share for now! 

...Even in my dreams I lay on my back. Still. The striking and recurring illusion of spiders sitting on my chest, furry legs knocking on my heart, pedipalps searching for its rhythm. Talons snapping open, shut, open. Eight voracious eyes eager to gut me like a fish. Drinking my piping innards with a cocktail straw. When I woke the illusion faded, my pulse rising faintly, but arachnophobia didn’t grip me like it once had. I didn’t rise and scramble, frantic fingers ensuring I was free of the spiders. I just lay there. On my back. Still.

Hoping one of them would take the first bite.

Hopefully this was interesting!

Have a nice evening <3

Tag list: ask to be added or removed!

@nev-953 @quiet-storm132

[tenthspeedwriter]

Recon Three (A draft of a short story about a space orc)

“Recon three, approaching target. Going comms-quiet.”

“Understood, Three Preeminent. Good hunting.”

Captain Sallys slid the communicator back into its pocket in her armor, folded seamlessly against her serpentine body. Behind her, Bo checked her mag rifle with a nervous tic.

Yualith rebellions were nothing new in the cosmos--the fractious insectoid folk had dealt with internal struggles since well before their starfaring days--but humans in the Orion Peacekeeping Alliance were an entirely novel matter.

Bo, for her part, felt absolutely out of place. Back in the Solar Defense Force, she’d been a highly decorated marine: a master marksman, a dauntless survivalist, and an uncanny tactical wit. It was why she was chosen among the first five hundred to take part in her home arm’s united security front.

For her part, though, she might as well have been fresh out of boot.

This world, for starters, was nothing like home. She’d rooted out contraband enclaves on the cold canyons of Pluto, led formations on the dusty plains of Mars, and run dozens of drills under the hellish heat and pressure of Venus.

Gios, though? It was surreal to her.

Monolithic vegetation akin to fungus dominated the landscape, undergrown by lichens so rigid they scraped the paint from her shin plates. Sporeclouds stirred each time the wind blew and cut visibility to a few tens of meters. Even her life support system, for all it could do to filter out a wisp of breathable oxygen, left an acrid taste of ammonia in her throat.

She had no idea what tactical superiority even looked like in a place like this. After five years as a fire team leader and three as a platoon commander, it felt bizarre to her to be entirely beholden to the combat sense of another. Sallys had proven a reliable leader in training and a’ship, but this would be the first time Bo had ever followed her into a combat zone.

She trusted, as much as someone one knows only through their records can, her team leader. Regardless, she couldn’t shake the feeling of fighting blind.

Then there was the unit in which she found herself.

Captain Sallys, foremost, was of a serpent-like people called the Ixori. Their agility and marksmanship were unparalleled in the cosmos, and she’d seen twice as much combat in the last few years than Bo had in a lifetime.

Second in command was Warden Iommo. He stood barely a meter tall, yet had the aspect of a chameleon: incredible situational awareness, and skin that melded into the vivid colors of the landscape. He wore no camouflage--just a translucent ballistic vest and the kit on his back.

On point was Peacekeeper Abrox--a Gorolai whose resilience in battle was without peer. They were bipedal, manually dexterous, and of a meter and a half’s height, much like a human; yet, they could see and hear well past the spectra of homo sapiens. They further differed in their amber exoskeleton, upon which they nailed their battle plate like an old-age shoe upon a horse. Bo asked them once if it hurt; in return Abrox asked, “have you ever gotten a tattoo?”

Just behind him marched Peacekeeper Ojore, a Taelic. An tripedal fellow with leathery skin of a dozen brilliant hues, he carried an enormous recoilless rifle--not to mention the team’s allotment of explosive charges. His hands were as large as Bo’s head, yet when priming a detonator, they moved with a surgeon’s grace. For this mission he had daubed himself in deep fungal-brown pigment, giving him the image of an alpha predator in the shadows. (Bo, of course, knew him to volunteer in children’s creches and sing in the OPA All-Faiths Choir whenever ashore--but the foe didn’t need to know that.)

Then there was Mender Hali--a Kastarine. Bo had never cared for cockroaches, and though she was hardly proud of her prejudice, it didn’t sit well with her that a being who so resembles one was her medic. If he cared to stretch his limbs and lean upright, he would stand near to her chest--yet like most of his kind he scurried along the ground, his rigid digits quite comfortable on the unwelcoming terrain. 

And last, there was Bo. Peacekeeper Lashawna Boudicca. A mere human in a galaxy of fantastic creatures. She stood near two meters tall, a hundred kilos of muscle and grit, yet in the company she now kept she felt as feeble and clumsy as a suckling child. For all two decades of training did for her, Abrox could still lift her with gear and all single-handedly. Hali could outrun her with a sprained pedipalp--she’d seen him do it. Iommo could scale a ten meter climb before she’d so much as made her second step.

But here she was, marching into a fungal grove the likes of which she’d never seen, their designated marksman. These five put their faith in her covering fire, their lives in her aim.

She might have lost herself in her doubts, but the team’s march was cut short. Sallys raised a spindly hand and signaled them down low.

In the clearing ahead stood a blood-brood of Yualithi--a dozen razor-clawed beings each clad in the colors of the Gios rebellion. Most bore gas-actuated assault weapons with cruel-looking bayonets.

If the wind were to turn, or the sporeclouds dissipate for even a few moments, team three would be exposed and assailed in an instant. Mercifully, however, whatever orders the brood were waiting on came; they filed out in bored succession.

“Remember,” said Iommo in a hushed breath, “we’re not here for a firefight. We find that depot from the orbital scans, we drop a multiwave beacon for the artillery battalion, and we get the hell out.”

“I don’t think anyone has forgotten, Warden” said Sallys. He shot her a glance which she met immediately, and after a few stern moments, she signaled the team to carry on.

“I hope we don’t find a fight” said Ojore as they marched. “It would be so nice to have a peaceful operation for once.” He shrugged his weapon further back against its strap, apprehensive of it even still.

“Peaceful,” said Abrox with their best impression of human “air quotes.” “We have an objective. Anything between it and us is as good as forfeit.”

“Still,” added Hali, “it would be nice not to return covered in viscera. You lot have an awful way of staining my good uniforms.” He gave a chittering laugh, and Abrox along with him. The grimace on Ojore’s face was rather like Bo’s.

“Quiet, all of you” said Iommo with a hiss. “Our orders are to engage responsively, and that is all to say on the matter.” As soon as he turned his eyes back to the horizon, Bo saw Sallys’ tail-tip twitch in a circle--a gesture she’d learned was much like rolling one’s eyes.

Kilometers of alien vegetation passed beneath foot, tail, and claw, led with certainty by Abrox’s keen senses. They could see further through the sporish haze by naked eye than any targeting sensor--and they seemed just the slightest bit perturbed that the rest of the team fought to match their pace.

At last, silhouetted against the glow of the sky, their target came into view. Iommo leapt to the top of one a towering fungal spires to train an omniscope on the target. “It’s a match to the gamma signature from the scans,” he said. “Enough ammunition and fuel rods to supply this rebellion for weeks longer. Captain, shall we being our app--”

Without warning, Iommo’s perch burst out from underneath him. A hail of mass-reactive shells rained from the flank, and he plummeted toward the ground. “INCOMING FIRE!” cried Ojore as he reached out to catch his Warden. Sallys slapped Abrox’s shoulder as she advanced ahead. “Weapons hot, get to that hill line! Defilade, now!”

Iommo locked eyes with Ojore for a moment: first in bewilderment, then quickly-swallowed fear, then in burning displeasure. He laid his superior down on his feet with an awkward gentleness, and refrained from the urge to pat him on the head. Another volley pulped the vegetation that concealed them, and they put aside their differences to dive for cover.

Bo brought up her targeting sensors, following the tracers from Abrox’s assault-mag. Her first shot went wild into the alien flora. “No, dammit” she said to herself, “fire discipline.” She choked down the surge of adrenaline that followed the break of battle. Hali could smell it on her--he gave her a sideyed glare as he drew his sidearm.

An absurdity of humanity. One of the most dangerous combat drugs known to science--and humans simply dripped with the stuff when you so much as startled them. How they managed to form a single coherent thought in the throes of it was beyond him. Bo raised her head up again and, this time, ventured a longer look at her target. Three Yualithi on an emplaced weapon at four hundred meters; another nine barreling down upon them fifty meters closer. “They spent their surprise too early!” she said. “Targets at three-fifty and closing.”

“Then deal with them!” answered Iommo as he hunkered into cover, his carbine quite useless at such range. Bo’s training flashed through her mind. Prioritize: their heavy weapons were too far out to be accurate, but held them under suppression. Objectivize: clear the air for her allies before the foes closed on them. Actualize: …” She squeezed the trigger and sent a mag-driven bolt directly into the field gun’s frame. Its crew ducked for cover for a moment before resuming their barrage, and the stream of fire edged its way toward her. “Damn it all!” she swore, chambering the next cartridge. She’d only have time for one more shot, and there were three of the clackers to take down. “Mark that… whatever it is!” said Ojore as he drew his weapon. “Give me a bead, if you please!” “Trusting you here, Ojie!” she answered as she trained her sensors. She didn’t love the thought of shooting an enemy pointing high explosive armaments at her with an infrared dot instead of a mag-cartridge, but she knew he had the right idea. The gentle Taelic broke into a song of war as he hoisted his launcher high. “He’s really going to fire this one blind?” Bo thought as she steadied her barrel.

“Blood upon stone and ash upon coals…”

“I swear if you nip the canopy and frag us, I’m going to come back from the grave just to kick your a--”

Ojore’s weapon screamed and scorched the earth behind him to glass, his payload rockering skyward.

“Fear within hearts as the fire-wind blows…”

Bo held the lock as long as she could. Not until splinters of woody fungus rained onto her did she at last roll back into the cover of the hillside.

“Onward we march; to glory we rise…”

Ojore ducked beneath the fire that Bo drew and emerged just in time to guide his rocket himself to its destination. 

“Our lives we will gamble; our enemies die.”

The micro-atomic impact was nearly as deafening as the launch. Mass-reactive shells cooked off like the rolling of thunder, drowning out the screams of the weapon’s operators. “Good damn shot!” Bo said as she rolled over pat her comrade on the back.

“No time to celebrate,” Sallys interjected. “Troops closing fast; small arms, go!”

As Bo drew her sidearm and caught her breath, shame gutted her. She’d missed. She’d put her comrade in harm’s way because she’d been too panicked to make a single shot against a stationary target. She could almost hear her former sergeant scolding her from beyond the grave for her mistake. A rookie’s mistake. A fool’s mista--”

“Head in the battle, damn your glands!” cried Iommo, not content to let her sulk with foes bearing down.

He and Abrox, freed of their biggest threat, laid a fierce volley against the storming insectoids. Their entire exchange would bring down only a couple of foes, but it forced them into a covered approach and gave the fire team a valuable moment to prepare.

Ojore raced to load another rocket; by the time he could prime it, however, the target had drawn too close. Its safety sensors squacked at him in anger, and with a sigh, he shouldered it again. “So much for hoping, I suppose…” he said, as he reached instead for the enormous charges belted to his waist.

Bo had to admire his willingness to stick himself in harm’s way. The enemy’s scattered fire whizzed about him as he lobbed charge after charge over the crest of the hill. At last Sarrys flicked the safety on her own assault-mag. “Foe closing to ideal range; make your shots count!”

She wasted no time in leveling her fire. Two hard bursts--”That’s one for me,” she said proudly. “Two for me,” laughed Abrox as they swapped their magazine.

Regardless, recon three was still outnumbered. Their enemy was in full assault--they strode through the oncoming fire at a bloodthirsty sprint. Her foe at last close enough to target, Bo leapt up with pistol in hand.

One shot, two, three. Miss after miss. The Yualith rebels danced like mad hornets, and their aimless shots became concerningly effective as the distance diminished. For the first time since she’d joined this fire team, Bo caught a glimpse of fear in her captain’s eyes.

“Brace for close quarters!”

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (113/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous chapters conveniently available here.

[4 March, 233 Before Age.   Berqt IV.]

Ziamond E'en awoke to find himself clad once more in the familiar flesh he had worn all those centuries ago.  Before him stood the pathetic mortal woman who had freed him from the Crimson Crystal.  It had taken months for him to establish contact with this girl, to befriend her and earn her confidence and trust, to the point where she would do his bidding.  Now, she stood before him with her hands clasped affectionately over her heart, her head bowed in reverent devotion.  For her, this was the culmination of whatever fairytale romance fantasy she had imagined for them.

For Ziamond E'en, this was his chance to bring about the Black Renaissance, and to establish the Dark Kingdom upon this world.  His enemies had thwarted him in the past, but now he would unleash a reign of horror that would endure for eons.

There was the woman to consider first.  As he lifted her chin with his alabaster hands, as he gazed into her dark, lovelorn eyes, he decided that she might still be of some use to him at least until he had consolidate his power.  The mortals of this plane were no match for him, of course, but it would take time to bring them to heel, and a loyal servant would make the task easier, however incrementally.  She smiled warmly in answer to his arrogant sneer.

"You have done well," Ziamond said with an insincere charm.  "At last, we are together."

"I was so frightened, my prince," she said, tears streaming from her eyes.  "Not for my own sake, but for yours!  If the Saiyan invaders attacked this place, they might have destroyed the summoning circle before I could complete the ritual!  Oh, but now you're here, and they'll be no match for you."

Ziamond didn't know what 'Saiyans' were, but he was pleased to hear that fate had ordained a war to herald his triumphant return.  Perhaps these invaders would make decent soldiers for his legions.  If not, their bones could be stacked to fashion a decent enough footstool.

He looked away from the woman and reached out with his senses to locate the strongest powers on the planet.  The trouble with being so immensely powerful was that lesser beings were incapable of comprehending how outmatched they were.  Long ago, he had learned that if he bested a few of their strongest, it would break the spirits of the rest, simplifying matters greatly.

"I shall return shortly," he announced to the girl.  "Prepare a meal, and I shall inform you of-- Aah!"

His senses reeled from what he had just found.  It was like staring into the sun.  He had no idea that a ki source that great could exist.  What did this mean?  Could the girl have made some mistake in the ritual?  Was his restored body somehow incomplete?

"My prince, what--?" the girl tried to ask.  He vaguely noticed her reaching out to him, but before she could act, one of the walls of her lair exploded.  Two mortal creatures, a man and a woman, had crashed through.  Both were covered in blood.  Unlike the woman who had summoned him back into this world, they had furry tails.

"The Saiyans, I presume," Ziamond E'en said.  "Disgusting creatures, but perhaps I can find some use for them."  He raised his scepter, through which he could focus his incredible power.  "Ah, but these two are too badly injured to serve me.  Better to destroy them, so I can gauge the hardiness of the others."

With that, he fired a beam of energy at the pair.  To his surprise, their bodies still remained after his attack was completed.  He had hurt them, but they still lived.    And one of them began to move...

"What sorcery is this?" Ziamond E'en asked.  Before he could try again, a third Saiyan smashed into the room, this time coming through the ceiling.  The girl trembled with fear, and Ziamond suppressed a sudden impulse to protect her.  Could he have actually developed feelings for this pathetic creature?   There would be time to address that later, after he had subjugated the planet.

This Saiyan was different from the others.  Clad in yellow and black, she had the look of a savage berserker, but there was something more.  Her hair glowed like molten iron, but beside that, there was something about her that gave even Ziamond E'en pause.    In one fluid motion, she had crashed into the room and killed the others with a pair of energy beams from her palm.  With a snarl, she sniffed at the air, and when she finally did acknowledge Ziamond E'en, there was no fear in her green eyes.    No, her expression was something resembling concern.

"Take the girl and get away from here," she warned Ziamond E'en.  "It isn't safe."

Ziamond E'en leveled his scepter at her and prepared to fire another blast.  "Safe?  Pfah! Know your place, woman," he scoffed.  "Your petty conflict means nothing to me.  Behold, for the hour of the Dark Kingdom is at hand, whence I--"

"Oh, you're here to cause trouble," Luffa said.   "Fine."

And then she grabbed him by the arm and yanked him off his feet.  He heard the girl below cry out for him, but she was so far away from him now.  In a flash the Saiyan woman had carried him high into the air, where she met another Saiyan, one of her enemies.

If there had been time to consider it, Ziamond E'en might have speculated that she was going to request an alliance of some kind.  Instead, she simply swung his body at her enemy, using him like a makeshift club.

This continued for some time, during which Ziamond E'en became acutely aware of just how helpless he truly was in this conflict.  The Saiyan woman was the immense ki he had sensed before.  It was no bluff or illusion.  Her enemies weren't as strong, but they still dwarfed his own power, to the point where he was only fit to be used as a blunt object in their fight.

Not indefinitely, of course.  After several minutes of being manhandled this way, Ziamond E'en lost consciousness, and when his body was too badly broken, the Saiyan woman tossed him aside and left him for dead.

Months later, the girl who had summoned him would find her beloved and painstakingly restore his body, at least to the point where could speak again.  On that day, Ziamond E'en would only beg her to send him back to his own dimension... where it was safe.

*******

[4 March, 233 Before Age.   Despye.] 

"Where is she?"

Xibuyas had arrived at Luffa's star-yacht to find Luffa herself absent.  Instead, a large arachnoid creature had met him at the spacedock and insisted that he submit to a physical before anything else.  

"The Berqt System, if I recall correctly," Dr. Topsas replied.   Xibuyas found the alien thoroughly revolting.  His hands somewhat resembled those of a humanoid, except there were eight of them, constantly moving and handling medical devices.   His eight eyes and fuzzy pedipalps seemed to indicate something about his mood, but his expressions were too alien for Xibuyas to decipher, and the young Saiyan was too disgusted to try.  

"It was she who insisted on working with me," he said indignantly.    "I knew this was a mistake.   If Princess Seltiss had not bade me to cooperate with her, I would have--"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you have some very colorful threat prepared for such a scenario," Topsas muttered.   He was taking Xibuyas's blood pressure with two hands, examining his eyes with a third, and recording notes with a fourth.   "However, the fact remains that you are here, and Luffa is not.   And yet, you find yourself cooperating in spite of your better judgment, correct?   That is why you're submitting to this examination, isn't it?"

"Have a care, doctor," Xibuyas growled.  "Your precious Luffa isn't here to protect you."

"Young man, I promise you that I am showing you all the respect I give to every overwrought teenage mammal that has passed through my care.   All I ask in return is that you kindly hold still.   The genetic scanner is such a touchy device."

"Don't tell me," Xibuyas grumbled.  "That freak told you to scan me, so that you could 'prove' that she's my mother."

"Not at all," Topsas replied.  "This is part of a standard check for diseases.   There are so many alien species, and a genetic scan helps sort out which features are normal and which are signs of illness.  Though if you're curious, I suppose I could run a comparison--"

"Don't trouble yourself," Xibuyas snarled.  "She's not my mother, because she's not a real Saiyan.  It will take more than lies from her crew to convince me otherwise."

"Crew?" Topsas asked.   "My dear boy, you make it sound as though I should be cleaning the decks.   I'm a medical doctor.   Renowned in some circles, not that anyone around here seems to care about that.   No, I have no interest in convincing you of anything.   What use is evidence and the scientific method against the raging hormones of an adolescent vertebrate?"

Xibuyas might have lost his patience then and there, until Topsas suddenly turned to address a blinking light on one of the sickbay computers.   "Oh dear," he said in a very concerned tone.

"What is it?" Xibuyas demanded.  

"The genetic readings are distorted in places," Topsas said.   He pointed at a display, which Xibuyas found just as inscrutable as the doctor.    "Here, here, and here.  Luffa told me you were enhanced by alchemical means as a child, and that's known to have a masking effect on these types of scans.   Of course it could just mean the scanner is malfunctioning.   Nonetheless, there's a strong match between your genes and Luffa's."

"I don't believe it," Xibuyas insisted.  

"Neither do I," Topsas said.   He picked up the scanner and made a noise that sounded like someone clicking his tongue, though Xibuyas wasn't sure Topsas had a tongue.   "Malfunctioning, indeed.  It's not even that old.   Dreadful business, getting these scanners repaired.  I'll have to contact the manufacturer, and they'll make me wait days just to tell me to send it in for maintenance."

"Why did Luffa leave so suddenly?" Xibuyas asked.  "What's so important on Berqt?"

"Oh, that," Topsas said idly.  He appeared to be much more interested in writing down the serial number on the back of his scanner.    "Our resident fortune teller could explain that better than I.   I understand she foresaw an attack on Berqt, and Luffa decided to commandeer a Federation cruiser to head it off."

"Fortune teller?" Xibuyas asked with an incredulous sneer.

*******

Xibuyas found Dotz on the observation deck.  The ship was originally a civilian pleasure craft, and this section was covered with the same transparent material used for the windows.  Here, passengers could relax in lounge chairs and enjoy a panoramic view of  outer space.  But Dotz did neither.  She sat on a cushion taken from one of the sofas and placed on the deck.  Around her lay several cards, strings of beads, and a small sphere made of glass.

"Xibuyas," she said before he could open his mouth to speak.  "I've almost got your fortune ready."

"What are you babbling about?" he asked.  "What fortune?"

She looked up at him for the first time since he entered.  "Oh, that's right," she said.  "You haven't asked for it yet.  Sorry."

"I have no interest in your games... woman.  I came here to find out when Luffa will return from Berqt," he said.  That overgrown insect told me you would know."

"That's the trouble," Dotz said. "I can't see anything definite where Luffa's concerned.  Uh, well, I can get some general idea from reading other people's futures, but it's tricky."

"That's absurd," he said.

"I know," Dotz said.  "Until I met Luffa, I didn't have anywhere near this level of psychic ability.  Now I can see further and more precisely than ever, but I still have this blind spot where your mother is concerned."

"She is not my mother," Xibuyas said with a scowl.

"Oh, she's not?" Dotz said.  "Sorry about that.  They told me you--"

"The  forget what they said, and listen to me.  I'm a true Saiyan, you decrepit fossil," Xibuyas said.  "The strongest Saiyan alive, bred and trained by the Saiyan King, Rehval III."

"Oh, then you're stronger than Luffa?" Dotz asked.  He might have taken this question as a defiance, except her expression was too innocent for that.  Dotz was middle-aged, hardly frail, but to a sixteen-year-old the lines on her face and the silver in her hair and the way she kept her purple shawl wrapped around her shoulders left a general impression of naive weakness.  He was accustomed to being angry, but with someone as meek as Dotz, it seemed like a waste of that emotion.

"She's not a Saiyan, so she doesn't count," he said firmly, after taking a moment to compose himself.  "But I will surpass her, and sooner than anyone thinks."

"I see.  Well, that would line up with the visions I've been having," she said.

"What visions?" Xibuyas asked.

"The ones you asked me for," she said.  "Wait, right, that hasn't happened yet.  I'm sorry, I know that sounds very manipulative, like I'm trying to bait you into asking.  That's not what I'm trying to do."

"Enough of your games.  Tell me what you've seen about me," Xibuyas said.

Dotz took a deep breath before answering.  "It's not completely clear.  I see you on the battlefield, a severed head, a swarm of locusts.  The head smiles at you, even though it's breathed its last breath.    The beast who stands against you... like the color of Camelian greenberries.  It cannot be beaten, not by a Super Saiyan.  But the child can triumph where the parent has failed.  Kah.  May.  Hah.  May... Over and over, the sound of the battle.  The son prevails.  Only... you're not the son, are you?  The boy I saw was younger, at least I think so."

"Then what?" Xibuyas asked.  "If Luffa fails, then she dies by my hand, yes?"

Dotz reached for one of the cards beside her knees, and flipped it over.  Then another, and another.

"Times, times, and half a time," she said as she pointed at the first card.  "Purple to green, then orange.  Then... pink?   Consumed?   The orange again.     A great scholar?"

"What are you talking about?" Xibuyas asked, but Dotz took his hand instead of answering.

"It doesn't make any sense," Dotz said.  "I see different paths.  A scholar, a warrior, a martyr?  A world destroyed, then restored, then destroyed.  I can't tell if Luffa's there or not.  I can't even be sure if it's you, but it has to be, somehow.  I shouldn't be seeing other people's fortunes through your own reading.   What's wrong with this...?"

She reached out for his hand, and curiosity had compelled  Xibuyas to give it to her.    Her skin was rough and her grip feeble as she traced her fingers along the lines of his palm.  Soon enough, his frustration finally won out, and he yanked his arm away.  

"As long as I can surpass her, that's all that matters," he said.  "Whatever comes after, all of your riddles, they mean nothing."

"Yes, but if there's multiple outcomes, then my predictions can't--"

"I only want to know where she is," Xibuyas said.  "And if your 'gift' isn't enough to see that clearly, then find me the next Federation world to be targeted by the Jindan cult.  You would be sending Luffa there next, right?"

"Well, that's how we've been doing it so far, but I don't think--"

"No one asked you to think, seer!"  Xibuyas  snapped.  "I only want results.  If Luffa won't go to the site of the next attack, then I'll go alone and handle it myself.  Anything would be better than waiting here."

"All right," Dotz said.  "But, um, it'll take some time.  These tactical predictions are complicated.  You'll need a fairly precise date and time, or the information's useless."

"Don't bother me with details," Xibuyas said.  "Just get started."

"I will," Dotz said.  "Just, be careful, okay?"

"Of what?"  Xibuyas scoffed.   The very idea of this pathetic creature giving him warnings was laughable.

"Zatte," Dotz said.  "You can't avoid her forever."

"I'm not avoiding--" Xibuyas began to protest, and then one of the doors opened.  It was meters away from them, but the silence of the deck and the a acoustics of the domed ceiling magnified the quiet hiss of the door.  When  Xibuyas turned, he found a woman standing in the doorway.

"There you are," Zatte said.  "I've been looking all over for you.   You remember me, right?   I'm Zatte, Luffa's wife."

"Yes, I know," the boy said coldly.  "The blue woman.   You called yourself my stepmother."

"Right," Zatte said.    "I know that's kind of a touchy subject with you, but you have to understand that you mean a lot to Luffa and that means that you're important to me as well, even if--"

"What do you want from me, alien?" Xibuyas snarled.  

"Tactical review," Zatte said.   She pointed her thumb over her shoulder.   "Luffa asked me to look over the reports from the fleet and see if I can find any room for improvement.   I figured you could give me a hand.   And even if you can't, I could use the company."

"I didn't come here to socialize," Xibuyas said.

"Then we can sit quietly and eat the sandwiches I made," Zatte said.   "You are hungry after the long trip to get here, right?   I know Saiyans that well, at least."

"Fine," Xibuyas said.  

"Great," Zatte said.  She leaned inside the doorway and waved to Dotz.   "Sorry for bothering you Dotz, we'll get out of your hair now, okay?"

"Oh, it's quite all right," Dotz said.   "It was a pleasure meeting you, young man.   You've given me a lot to think about."

Xibuyas doubted this very much, as he considered this entire trip to be a waste of time, but he saw no point in arguing.  At least if he went with the blue one, he would have something to eat while he waited.

*******

Like almost everything else on the star-yacht, the conference room was a gawdy exercise in adding luxury to the mundane.   The chairs were upholstered with an overpriced leather, the tabletop was polished to the point where it almost doubled as a mirror, and the overhead light fixture was enormous to the point of self-parody.   There was even a Camelian harpsichord in the corner, apparently just in case someone wanted live music during a business meeting.   The plush conditions of the ship were completely lost on the Saiyan warriors and Dorlun survivalists who had lived here for the past few years.   Zatte simply needed room to work, and an interactive display she could use to plot courses and compare star charts.  

"It's definitely looking better," Zatte said as she stared at a map of Federation space.   "Once Luffa gets back from Berqt, she might actually have a chance to rest up a bit, now that Seltiss and her army have joined the fight."

Xibuyas said nothing, and simply slouched deeper into his chair.  He neither knew nor cared why the conference room was so overdecorated, or why Zatte was so determined to have his company.  

"I know it's awkward," she said, turning to look back at him, "but I really want to thank you for helping us out.   I was worried that Luffa might run herself ragged fighting all these cultists, but with you on our side... well, I really appreciate you being here, Xibuyas."

"Bah!" Xibuyas spat.   "Don't hand me that!   I haven't even done anything!  And I wouldn't want your gratitude in any case."

"Right," Zatte said.  "I guess I should be saving that kind of talk for Seltiss.  Your girlfriend's quite the diplomat, from what I've seen."

"What?!" Xibuyas blurted out.  "That's not--!  What--?"

She wasn't the first person to suggest that he and Seltiss were romantically involved.    Luffa herself had used the "g" word a few days ago, when she requested him to come to this ship.   Xibuyas never cared for the insinuation, but at least he knew that his enemies were only using it to goad him.     What threw him off this time was how Zatte had said it.    It was so conversational, like she just assumed it was an established fact.  

"Oh, come on," Zatte said with a smile.   "There's something between you two, right?   It's kind of cute how you kids try to hide it.   She acts all hip and cool, and you're playing the stolid warrior around her."

This was enough to make him sit up straight, at the very least.   "You don't know anything about us," he seethed.   It was nowhere near a denial, but it was the best response he could muster.

"I don't get her pink hair dye, though," Zatte said.  "I always thought Saiyans took a lot of pride in having jet black hair, but Luffa told me some of you have it colored as a fashion statement.  I mean, sure, but why pink?   Is she trying to look older?"

"Older?" Xibuyas asked.

"Oh, wait," Zatte said.  She ran her hand through her own red hair as she spoke.   "I forget that sometimes.   Pink hair is a sign of old age in my species.   It probably doesn't mean the same thing when a Saiyan has it.   It's probably just her favorite color."

"Why are we talking about hair?" Xibuyas grumbled.  

"Because you won't tell me about your love life," Zatte said.   "Sorry, I never had a stepson before.   Maybe I'm not supposed to pry like this."

"You don't have a stepson," Xibuyas insisted.   "Luffa is not my mother."

"Yeah, well she doesn't think so," Zatte said.   "And I gotta live with her, so whose side do you think I'd take in this?"

"What difference does it make?" Xibuyas muttered.   "She isn't here, so there's no point in supporting her lies."

"Kid, from what I hear, the closest thing you had to a parent was King Rehval, and he left you to die.  Now, maybe you're right, and it is all a big trick, but I can't just assume that.   I married somebody who's pretty sure she's your mom.   So I have an obligation here.   Or maybe I don't.  Look, if you had someone taking care of you, then I guess I could leave this alone, but right now, Luffa and I are all you've got.   I have to do something."

"I can take care of myself!" Xibuyas said.  

"Yeah, that's what I thought when I was sixteen," Zatte said.  "And you've probably done okay, but you shouldn't have to.   When my parents died, I had friends and relatives to look after me, and I helped look after the kids who lost their parents.   It's something I'm grateful for, and I don't want you to go without it."

"Well I'm not grateful for it," Xibuyas said.  

"Sure, you have your pride," Zatte said.  "And you're a sullen teenager.   Gotta be all moody and put up those emotional barriers so you can look cool in front of your girlfriend.   I get it.  You don't have to like me.   Just understand that I can't walk away."

They sat in silence for a while after that.    Occasionally, Zatte would turn to look at him, as though making sure he was still there, or perhaps hoping that he would ask about what she was doing, or offer to help.   When the ship's service droid, PB-2, entered the room to clean it, Zatte had to tell it to leave the uneaten sandwiches alone.  

It wasn't that Xibuyas wasn't hungry.    He was simply too frustrated to think about food.   As much as he adored Seltiss, he resented her order for him to come to this place.   He had been raised to believe himself to be very important, and it irritated him to be sent to a nearly empty pleasure craft, devoid of any action or glory.   He disliked the company, and he especially despised the way they all acted so familiar with him.     It was bad enough that Luffa kept pretending to be his mother, but now this blue-skinned weakling wanted to do the same thing.   Desperately, he longed for some way to take back control of the situation, instead of just sitting here like a child waiting for a nanny to finish an errand.  

When he finally spoke up, Zatte was visibly startled by the sound of his voice.

"Tell me something," Xibuyas said.  

"Sure.   What's on your mind?" Zatte replied.

"What do you claim to know of my father?"

She took a deep breath before answering.    He liked that.   If she wanted to talk so badly, then she could be the one on the defensive.

"His name was Kandai," she finally said.    "Years ago, he and Luffa were part of a Saiyan mercenary group led by Luffa's father," Zatte said.  "My colony contracted them to defend us from invaders."

"Were they successful?"

"No, they weren't," Zatte said.    "Your grandfather sold us out to the enemy, and your dad went along with it.    I lost my right eye when the colony was overrun.    I didn't like your dad much before then.   I was jealous of his marriage to Luffa, but it turned out he was a real creep all along."

"You told me before that I resembled him," Xibuyas said.   "Do you think me a 'creep' as well?"

"Maybe," Zatte said.   "I'm still trying to figure that one out."

"That doesn't sound very stepmotherly of you," Xibuyas said.  

"I guess not," she said.   "I'm new at this.    I was sort of hoping you'd cut me some slack."

"Many Saiyans look alike, without having any close relation," Xibuyas said.   "Do you really believe that Luffa is my mother?" Xibuyas asked.  

"I believe her," Zatte said.   "She thinks you're her son, so that means you are, at least as far as I'm concerned.    And you're a lot like her, so that plays into it."

She set aside her work and went to pour a cup of tea from the carafe.    Xibuyas didn't move, but his eyes tracked her as she walked around the table.

"Do you want me to be her son," Xibuyas asked.  

"You don't ask easy ones do you?" Zatte sighed.  

"No, I don't," he said.    

"The truth is that I don't want her to be hurt because of you," she said.    "It was bad enough before, when we thought you were terminated in the womb.    Then it turns out King Rehval managed to keep you alive, and he raised you to be his personal enforcer.   Then we thought you vanished on Pflaume, and we didn't think we'd ever see you again.   And now you're back.  I don't know if that's a good thing for Luffa or not.     To be honest, I'm not sure how she'd take it if it turned out you weren't her son after all.    I think it's rough on her no matter what."

"What scenario would you prefer?"  he asked.  

"I guess if you were a little kid again," Zatte said.   "Luffa could raise you the way she wanted, and you could grow up with your mother.    I'm not sure how much help I'd be in that case, but I'd like to think I'd be a part of your life."

"And all it would take is the erasure of the life I've lived so far, wouldn't it?" Xibuyas said bitterly.

"Look, I didn't mean--"

"It never occurred to you to ask if I wanted to be part of your family," Xibuyas said.   "By your own account, my grandfather was a cheat, and my father a coward."

"That's not exactly--"

"And my 'mother'?   A failure," he went on.  "You'd have me believe that the so-called 'Super Saiyan' couldn't even keep her own brat inside her long enough to give birth to him.   Are there any other wonderful relatives you've forgotten to mention?"  

"You've got a great-grandmother somewhere," Zatte said.  "She's kind of a jerk, but--"

"And then there's you," Xibuyas grumbled.   "Luffa's pet alien who worships the ground she walks on.    It's revolting how much you flirt with her, the way you bend over backwards to be whatever it is you think she wants you to be.   Look at you.   Poring over tactical reports like a good little lackey.    You even wear those exotic clothes, parading around the ship like a bar wench even when she isn't around to see it."

Zatte glanced down at the grey tee she wore, and the red flannel pants that extended to her calves, then she looked back at Xibuyas in confusion.  

"You're no warrior," Xibuyas said, leaping to his feet.  "The fact that Luffa keeps you around only proves her unworthiness to call herself a Saiyan."  

"If you think you're the first Saiyan to say that sort of thing to me, Xibuyas, you're wrong," Zatte said evenly.   "As far as I'm concerned, it only proves that Luffa really is better than all of you, and not just physically.    You could learn a lot from her, even if she wasn't your mother."

"She's not my mother!" Xibuyas shouted.   He took a step towards her, and she stepped back.

"Fine," Zatte said.    "Have it your way.    Can we just get back to work?"

He suddenly grabbed her by the arms and shoved her up against the wall.    

"My work," he said, "is becoming everything your little tin goddess is not.    That means strength without failure, victory without compromise.    While Luffa wanders off to pursue some forgotten ideal, I'll be ruling the Saiyan race, giving them a true hero for inspiration."

"You had to pin me to the wall to tell me that, kid?" Zatte asked.    

"I was just wondering," Xibuyas went on.    "If I killed you right now, what do think Luffa would say to that?  Would she avenge your death, or would she refuse to take action against the son she missed so dearly?"

There was a brief pause, and he smiled, as though daring her to answer.   He expected her to show fear, but it never came.    

"What makes you think you could kill me?" Zatte asked.  

"You're a weakling," Xibuyas said.   "What else is there to say?"

"Yeah, but you haven't got the guts," Zatte said.   "You've got all that power and fancy talk, but you don't really know what you're doing with your life.  Without King Rehval or Seltiss telling you what to do, what are you, really?"

"Have a care, woman..." Xibuyas said.  

"We're only in the same room together because your girlfriend thought we should join forces," Zatte said.    "You kill me, maybe the whole alliance falls apart.    Luffa might give you a pass, but what about Seltiss?   Suddenly, she isn't sure she can depend on you anymore.    In one stroke, you go from being a valuable asset to a dangerous liability.   A wild dog that needs to be put down."

"You don't know her like I do--" Xibuyas sneered.

"I know about survival, kid," Zatte said.  "Your power is like a fire in the wilderness.   Useful for staying alive, but only if you can keep it under control.   Once people start getting burned, you stop being useful, and people start looking for ways to put you out.   Seltiss is no different.   You know she'd turn against you if you tried anything with me, and then what would you do?"

He had no answer for that.  

"As for Luffa," Zatte went on.    "I was a wild dog once.   I was infected with demonic magic, and I tried to spread it to her.    She managed to fix us both up, which is still kind of scary for me to think about.    I used to think  of the Black Water Mist as this absolute, unbreakable thing in my life, and she just came along and said 'nope'.   But I think if it had gone differently, and she had no way to make me normal again, she would have killed me in the end.   Quick and clean.   It'd be the only compassionate thing to do.   For either of us."

"You're lying," Xibuyas said.    

"She killed your grandfather," Zatte said.    "Sometimes, she has bad dreams about it, but she always comes back to the fact that she just couldn't let him live after what he'd done to her.   And your father?   Well, I killed him.    He tried to hurt the woman I loved.    I tell myself it was to save Luffa's life, that it wasn't for revenge, but honestly?   At times like these, I'm not so sure.    You really do remind me of Kandai, kid.   Especially now, like this."

"You killed him," Xibuyas said.   "And how did something as feeble as you manage that?"

"I turned invisible and snuck up behind him.    Shot him with a plasma rifle.    I don't think he suffered much.    I can't make any promises with you, though.    I don't want to hurt you, kid, but you may not leave me much choice."

"Don't make me laugh," he scoffed.      

"All right," Zatte said.    

Suddenly, he winced with pain, and released Zatte's left arm to clutch at his cheek.    When he removed his hand, a purple bruise began to appear on his face.    

"You felt that one, huh?" Zatte asked.  

"What did you just do?" he demanded.      He wanted that question to sound furious, but he could hear a touch of fear in his voice, despite his best efforts.

"I burst a blood vessel in your face," Zatte explained.    "I can manipulate different kinds of energy, including heat.    It took me a while to learn how to fine-tune it, but I can focus enough heat in a certain spot in your body.    Now that may not seem very powerful, but think about what would happen if I did that inside your brain."

"You're bluffing!" he shouted.  

"No, I'm not," she said.  "I can't make this work at a distance, so it's not a trick I use much, but fortunately you got all nice and close.   And maybe you're quick enough to kill me before I can pull it off.   I wouldn't put it past you.   But I don't need much time, so if you're going to make a move, don't hesitate."

"I... won't let you..." Xibuyas stammered.     He wanted to say something defiant, but he didn't understand her bluff well enough to call it, at least not with any conviction.   For all he knew, her power would work even with a broken neck.    And there was Seltiss to think about.   As much as he loathed this woman and her smug, blue face, was it worth displeasing Seltiss just to sate his own wrath?    

"See, I don't want to kill you, kid," Zatte said.   "But I'll do whatever it takes to stay alive.   You might be angry enough to kill me, but you're not so sure you'd survive the fallout."

How did she know?   It was so infuriating to hear her echo his own thoughts like this.   Slowly, he loosened his grip on her, and backed away.  

"Smart boy," Zatte said.   "Now, why don't I show you to your quarters, and you can wait there until Luffa shows up, okay?"

He pursed his lips and frowned, but he lowered his head, unsure of how else to proceed.   "Very well," he said.    

*******

[6 March, 233 Before Age.  Despye.]

Luffa returned two days later.   After a long consultation with Dr. Topsas, she found Zatte in her quarters.  

"Finally!    You were taking so long in there, I was starting to think Topsas had confined you to sickbay," Zatte said as she picked up Luffa by the waist and swung her around.  

"Nah, he just missed me while I was gone," Luffa said.   She put her arms around Zatte's neck and grinned affectionately.   "And I had to talk to him about Katem, make sure he's healthy enough for whatever comes next."

"You're not leaving again already, are you?" Zatte asked.  

"That depends on what Dotz has to say," Luffa said.   "But I figured I can talk to her in the morning.   I've kept you waiting long enough.    Any trouble while I was out?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Zatte said.  

Luffa glanced over to nothing in particular as she reached out with her ki senses.   "Well, the boy's still alive, so I guess he didn't misbehave too much.    I was half-worried you might have to do that hematoma attack on him."

"So was I, but I managed to settle him down."  

"Good girl," Luffa said.    "See, you're better at this parenting stuff than you thought.   All those years putting up with that crazy wife of yours turned out to be good practice."  

"I don't think it's such a great idea for you to take him along on your next sortie," Zatte said.   She lowered Luffa onto the bed and lay down beside her.    "Even if he didn't hate your guts, he's got a lot on his mind, and none of it's going to help him stay focused in a war zone."

"You're probably right, but I can't back out now, not when I've missed so much of his life already," Luffa said.   "Look at you, wearing the tee-shirt and the flannel pants?     You must have missed me more than I thought."    

"I'm serious, Luffa," Zatte said.    "He'll get himself killed out there if he isn't careful.    And he might just take you with him."

"I've got no choice, Zattie," Luffa said.    She kissed her, then made a savage smile as she glanced back to whichever direction she sensed him in.     "And neither does he."

NEXT: The Secret Ingredient

[tenthspeedwriter]

Recon Three - Pt. 1

Part 2

“Recon three, approaching target. Going comms-quiet.”

“Understood, Three Preeminent. Good hunting.”

Captain Sallys slid the communicator back into its pocket in her armor, folded seamlessly against her serpentine body. Behind her, Bo checked her mag-rifle with a nervous tic.

Yualith rebellions were nothing new in the cosmos--the fractious insectoid folk had dealt with internal struggles since well before their starfaring days--but humans in the Orion Peacekeeping Alliance were a recent novelty.

Bo, personally, felt absolutely out of place. Back in the Solar Defense Force she’d been a highly decorated marine: a master marksman, a dauntless survivalist, and an uncanny tactical wit. It was why she was chosen among the first five hundred to take part in her home arm’s united security front.

For her part, though, she might as well have been fresh out of boot.

This world, for starters, was nothing like home. She’d rooted out contraband enclaves in the cold canyons of Pluto, led drill formations on the dusty plains of Mars, and run dozens of exercises under the hellish heat and pressure of Venus.

Gios, though? It was surreal to her. Monolithic fungi dominated the landscape, undergrown by lichens so rigid they scraped the paint from her shin plates. Yellow-green sporeclouds stirred with each gust of wind and cut visibility to a few tens of meters. Her life support system struggled to scrape oxygen from the alien air, and left a bitter taste of ammonia in her throat.

She had no idea what tactical superiority even looked like in a place like this. After five years as a fire team leader and three as a platoon commander, it felt bizarre to her to be entirely beholden to the combat sense of another. Sallys had proven a reliable leader in training and a’ship, but this would be the first time Bo had ever followed her into a combat zone.

She trusted her team leader in principle; regardless, she couldn’t shake the feeling of fighting blind.

Then there was the unit in which she found herself.

Captain Sallys, to start with, was of a serpent-like people called the Ixori. Their agility and marksmanship were unparalleled in the cosmos, and she’d seen twice as much action in the last few years as Bo had in a lifetime.

Second in command was Warden Iommo--a Cuane. He stood barely a meter tall, yet had the aspect of a chameleon: incredible situational awareness, and skin that melded into the vivid colors of the landscape. He wore no camouflage--just a translucent ballistic vest and the kit on his back.

On point was Peacekeeper Abrox--a Gorolai whose resilience in battle was peerless. They were bipedal, manually dexterous, and of a meter and a half’s height, much like a human; yet, they could see and hear well past the spectra of homo sapiens. They further differed in their amber exoskeleton, upon which they nailed their battle plate like an old-age shoe upon a horse. Bo asked them once if it hurt; in return Abrox simply asked if she’d ever gotten a tattoo.

Just behind him marched Peacekeeper Ojore, a Taelic. An tripedal fellow with leathery skin of a dozen brilliant hues, he carried a monolithic recoilless rifle--not to mention the team’s allotment of explosive charges. His hands were as large as Bo’s head, yet when priming a detonator, they moved with a surgeon’s grace. For this mission he had daubed himself in deep fungal-brown pigment, giving him the image of an alpha predator in the shadows. (Bo, of course, was aware that he volunteered in children’s creches and sang in the OPA All-Faiths Choir whenever ashore--but the foe didn’t need to know that.)

Then there was Mender Ha’li--a Kastarine. Bo had never cared for cockroaches. She was hardly proud of her prejudice, but it didn’t sit well with her that a being who so resembles one was her medic. If he cared to stretch his limbs and lean upright, he would stand near to her chest--yet like most of his kind he scurried along the ground, his rigid digits quite comfortable on the unwelcoming terrain. 

Lastly, there was Bo. Peacekeeper LaShawna Boudicca. A mere human in a galaxy of fantastic creatures. She stood near two meters tall, a hundred kilos of muscle and grit, yet in present company she felt as feeble and clumsy as a suckling child. For all two decades of training did for her, Abrox could out-lift her single-handedly. Ha’li could outsprint her with a twisted pedipalp--she’d seen him do it. Iommo could scale a ten meter climb before she’d so much as taken her third step.

But here she was, marching into a fungal grove the likes of which she’d never seen, their designated marksman. These five put their faith in her covering fire, their lives in her aim & awareness.

She might have lost herself in her doubts, but the team’s march was cut short. Sallys raised a spindly hand and ushered them down low.

In the clearing ahead lazed a blood-brood of Yualithi--a dozen razor-clawed beings each clad in the colors of the Gios rebellion. Most bore gas-actuated assault weapons with cruel-looking bayonets.

If the wind were to turn, or the sporeclouds dissipate for even a few moments, recon three would be exposed and assailed in an instant. Thankfully, whatever orders the brood were waiting on came; they filed out in bored succession.

“Remember,” said Iommo in a hushed breath, “we are not here for a firefight. We find that depot from the orbital scans, we drop a multiwave beacon for the artillery battalion, and we extract at once.”

“I don’t think anyone has forgotten, Warden” said Sallys. He shot her a glance which she met immediately, and after a few stern moments, she signaled the team to carry on.

“I hope we don’t find a fight” said Ojore as they marched. “It would be so nice to have a peaceful operation for once.” He shrugged his weapon further back against its strap, apprehensive of it even still.

“Peaceful,” said Abrox with their best impression of human “air quotes.” “We have an objective. Anything between it and us is as good as forfeit.”

“Still,” added Ha’li, “it would be nice not to return covered in viscera. You lot have an awful way of staining my good uniforms.” He gave a chittering laugh, and Abrox along with him. The grimace on Ojore’s face was rather like Bo’s.

“Quiet, all of you” said Iommo with a hiss. “Our orders are to engage responsively, and that is all to say on the matter.” As soon as he turned his eyes back to the horizon, Bo saw Sallys’ tail-tip twitch in a circle--a gesture she’d learned was much like rolling one’s eyes.

Kilometers of alien vegetation passed beneath foot, tail, and claw, led with certainty by Abrox’s keen senses. They could see further through the sporish haze by naked eye than any targeting sensor--and they seemed just the slightest bit perturbed that the rest of the team fought to match their pace.

At last, silhouetted against the glow of the sky, their target came into view. Iommo leapt to the top of one a towering fungal spires to train an omniscope on the target. “It’s a match to the gamma signature from the scans,” he said. “Enough ammunition and fuel rods to supply this rebellion for weeks longer. Captain, shall we being our app--”

Without warning, Iommo’s perch burst out from underneath him. A hail of mass-reactive shells rained from the flank, and he plummeted toward the ground. “INCOMING FIRE!” cried Ojore as he reached out to catch his Warden.

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (50/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous Chapters conveniently available here

[17 May, 236 Before Age.  Interstellar Space.]

On the bridge of Luffa's star-yacht, the Emerald Eye, Keda reflected on the situation on Planet Wist and was reluctantly forced to admit that Zatte had been right all along.  The mission to retrieve Luffa had not only been successful, but easy.  More importantly, it had been justified. 

Luffa had gone to Wist to punish the distant world for its failed invasion of the Federation.  No one had expected her to run into any sort of difficulty on that trip, thinking that Luffa was the strongest fighter in the known universe.  But the ruler of Wist had turned out to be even stronger, and he had beaten her decisively.  Keda still couldn't quite believe it, but she had only gotten bits and pieces of the story.  

Zatte had insisted on following Luffa through the wormhole that led to Wist, certain that the Saiyan would need help.  Keda had dismissed this as an unwarranted risk.  The young Dorlun had been Luffa's employee and sole companion for some time, and she had learned to trust Luffa's strength and follow her orders, which in this instance were to stay put.  It occurred to Keda that if she had gotten her way, Luffa might have been killed on Planet Wist, and that troubled her a great deal.  

Instead, Zatte had hijacked the Emerald Eye and took it through the wormhole against Keda's wishes.  Like Keda, Zatte was also a Dorlun, from a culture that prized self-preservation, but Zatte and Luffa were romantically involved, and Zatte had come to the rather specious conclusion that Luffa's power and influence were of divine significance.  To say that Zatte's judgement was compromised was putting it mildly, and the word "zealot" kept springing to mind whenever Keda thought about it.  Zatte seemed willing to brave any danger on the grounds that it served a higher purpose, and such a mindset could be used to rationalize just about anything.  

Still, Zatte had been right.  Luffa really did need their help.  Moreover, helping her hadn't even been all that dangerous.  Before losing to the Shockmaster, Luffa had demolished the whole planet's military and annihilated all of its spaceports, leaving it in no position to repel the Emerald Eye or any other inbound starship.  From orbit, they found Luffa's position, and brought the ship down just far enough away to avoid attracting enemy attention.  Zatte reconnoitered on foot, but her powers gave her the ability to refract light around her body, making herself virtually invisible.  By the time she found Luffa, the Shockmaster had already left.  If he had any idea about the rescue operation, he made no move to stop it.  They reached orbit without incident and left the Wistian system with no sign of pursuit.

The whole business left a lot of unresolved issues.  For starters, Keda had no idea where to take the ship from here.  Wist was on the other side of the galaxy from the part she knew.  Federation space was six weeks away by starship, though Keda estimated it would probably take seven, since the ship would need to stop for supplies at least once, which would mean altering course to find an inhabited world with a decent spaceport.  Ideally, they could just use the wormhole that had brought them to Wist, but that wasn't an option, since the wormhole was inhabited by innocent life forms to whom Luffa's Saiyan energy was toxic.  They had agreed to seal the Wist terminus to prevent any future incursions, and in light of this, a six or seven-week transgalactic voyage wasn't so bad.  

Personally, Keda preferred long trips like these.  The star-yacht was safe, comfortable, and inconspicuous enough that no one was likely to bother it.  But she still needed to set a proper course.  As it was, she had been taking the ship in the general direction of the center of the galaxy, just to put some distance between them and Wist. 

In the meantime, she mulled over some options, just in case anyone wanted her opinion. 

*******

"There's a good hospital facility on Towrine VI," Dr. Topsas said.  "We can contact them and--"

"We can't," Zatte said.  "We have to maintain radio silence, and they'll be expecting us to take her to a populated world for medical treatment."

Topsas had spent the last two hours bandaging Luffa's wounds and administering sedatives and painkillers to help the Saiyan sleep.  In one of his eight limbs he held a portable device with a real-time readout of his patient's vital signs, and he kept at least three of his eight eyes on it at all times.  Once he was satisfied that Luffa was no longer in any immediate danger, he had gone to the galley to discuss the situation with Zatte.

"Yes, well I can see why that would be a concern," he said dryly.  "’They’ most certainly would be expecting that.  ‘They’ are quite cunning, after all.   Ms. Zatte, would you care to remind me who 'they' are?"

"Luffa has enemies, doctor," Zatte said.   "Not just the Wistians.  The Saiyans have tried to kill her before, and if they find out she's vulnerable, they'll--"

"Ah, of course," Topsas said.  "I was planning to send a message to the Saiyan homeworld, requesting that they please come and destroy us at their earliest convenience, but you raise a fair point, so I shall reconsider."

"Doctor, this is serious," Zatte said.  

"Indeed it is serious, for I find myself trapped aboard a ship full of little mammals who indulge in hysterics," Topsas said.  "When I agreed to come along on this mission, Ms. Zatte, it was because we agreed Ms. Luffa might require medical aid, yes?  And this assumption has been borne out, has it not?  Then perhaps you might try listening to the doctor instead of jumping at shadows."

"Does she really need to go to a hospital?" Zatte asked.  "You can't treat her with the equipment on board?"

"In principle, I most certainly can," Topsas said.  "But you were absent the last time I had to minister to Luffa after a great battle, Ms. Zatte.  She had just discovered her transformation, and had considerable difficulty controlling it.  For all we know, her powers have malfunctioned again, and this was the reason she was so badly defeated.  I would know for certain, and I would prefer to investigate the problem on Towrine VI.  Bigreen would be better still, but alas it is too far to consider.   Towrine will suffice.  At least there, we needn't worry about her rupturing the hull accidentally."

Zatte looked at him with horror.  "You think that's how she lost?" she asked.  "Her Super Saiyan form just... quit on her?"

"We know virtually nothing about it," Topsas said.  "It is only because of Luffa's interest in her people's history that we know of other Super Saiyans at all, and none of them left detailed medical records for comparison.  For all we know, the power was only temporary from the beginning, and Luffa had only so many great battles upon which to apply it.  Or this may simply be a result of extreme exhaustion, or a sign of an entirely new transformation to come."

"No," Zatte said.  "I won't get bogged down in what-if's.  We need to go back to Federation space."

"You have taken control of the ship, so I suppose I am in no position to stop you," Topsas said.  "However, it will take several weeks to make the journey, by which time Luffa will be up and around.  Do you believe she will agree with your decision?"

"What's the difference?" Zatte asked.  She threw up her arms and started pacing around the room.  "She already hates me."

"I was under a somewhat different impression," Topsas said.  

"Her husband was on that planet," Zatte said.  "I shot him."

"Given Luffa's murderous intentions toward the man," Topsas said, "I fail to see why she would take issue with this.  Indeed, I would think she would be most appreciative."

Zatte rubbed the bridge of her nose.  "He betrayed her, and she swore she would kill him," she explained.  "Not for revenge, but for justice.  She told you what he did to her, right?"

The pedipalps on Topsas' face drooped solemnly.  "She told me," was all he said in response.

"When I got to her, the Shockmaster had already beaten her and left.  Then Kandai showed up to finish her off.  I tried to stay out of it.  That was my plan all along.  I was going to let her take care of things on her own, but it got to the point where I couldn't tell if she could handle him or not, and she seemed so weak..."

"I think I understand," Topsas said.  "You fear that by intervening, you've wounded her pride."

"She's told me about how you and the others helped her on the Tikosi planet," Zatte said.  "She's still ashamed about it.  I mean, she's grateful, don't get me wrong, but after all this time, the thought of accepting help from anyone still bothers her."

"And yet she doesn't seem to loathe me," Topsas said.  "Though I did worry she might try to bite whilst I was examining her teeth earlier.  Perhaps I should be more careful..."

"It's not the same," Zatte insisted.  "You helped her because you had an ethical obligation.  Keda helped her because she needed Luffa's help in return.  Wampaaan'riix owed her his life.  But I only shot Kandai because..."

There was a pregnant pause, during which Topsas sipped from his cup of tea and waited.  Eventually he grew tired of waiting and offered his own suggestions.  "Because you love her," he said.  

"Not that," Zatte said bitterly.  

"Then because you resented her husband," he offered.  "Despite her commitment to you and her estrangement from him, you feared that she still held some attachment to him."

"No."

"Did you shoot him to see if your plasma rifle was working correctly?" Topsas said with no small measure of exasperation.  

"I did it because I couldn't trust her," Zatte finally admitted.  

"Am I now to guess as to the meaning of that?" Topsas asked.  

"I believe that Luffa has a divine purpose in this world, doctor," Zatte explained.  "I won't bother trying to convince you.  Keda already thinks I'm crazy."

"Then you followed her to Planet Wist because you wanted to ensure that she would survive to carry out that purpose," Topsas surmised.  

Zatte nodded.  "She knew Kandai was working for the Shockmaster, and she planned to tackle them both.  That had me worried.  I thought she might get her priorities mixed up, and she's been so consumed with finding Kandai as it is.  If he escaped somehow, she might have chased after him and the Federation might have lost the whole war.  I just wanted to be there, to be sure, and when I finally found her..."

She sat down on the galley floor and put her head in her hands.  "Maybe she could have finished Kandai on her own, but she had already lost to the Shockmaster, and I just couldn't take the chance.  I've never seen her so badly beaten, doctor.  She was supposed to be invincible, and maybe she had everything under control all along, but she looked so desperate.  All I could think about was all the good she had done for the galaxy, and how much she needed my help.  So I took aim and fired."

"To save her from Kandai," Topsas said.  

"No, to save her from herself," Zatte said.  "She's let that man distract her all this time.  She'll never realize her true potential as long as she's got this vendetta on her mind.  At least, that's what I keep telling myself.  I want to help her do the things she needs to do, but maybe I'm just not willing to back off and let her do them.  Maybe I really am crazy."

Suddenly, the door to the galley slid open, and Keda marched into the room.  "The Camelian Empire!" she said.  

"What?" Topsas asked.  

"That's where we need to go," Keda said.  It'll take longer, especially if we go around Federation space instead of passing through it, but we'll be better off in the long run."

"Why would we go around the Federation?" Zatte asked.  And why would we go beyond it?  What's in the Camelian Empire?"

"Asylum, for openers," Keda said.  "That Lord Argon guy Luffa killed, he did something a while back to really piss off the Camelians.  Kandai too.  I was just going over the old bounty hunter files we had from Luffa's mercenary days.  The Camelian government put bounty on Kandai and Argon, and for a lot of money.  I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but the Camelians would be indebted to us now.  They'd give us some breathing room, if nothing else."

"And the Federation wouldn't?" Zatte asked.  "Luffa founded it, you know."

"Yeah, I was there," Keda said.  "Well, here, actually.  It happened on this ship.  The only reason those fatcats went along with it was because Luffa threatened to turn on them if they didn't cooperate.  How do you think they'll react when they find out she lost a fight?  And against a known enemy of the Federation?"

"She has a point, Ms. Zatte," Topsas said.  "From what I understand, Marshall Booth was quite excited to relieve her of her office when she was trapped in the wormhole.  Still, I don't know that we need to go as far as Camelia to--"

"We're not going to Towrine VI, doctor," Zatte said.  

"I needn't call ahead, if that's what worries you," Topsas offered.  "I know the hospital administrator.   He can pull some strings and have her admitted discreetly once we arrive--"

"The point is that Camelia is a major power in the quadrant," Keda insisted.  "We can hide anywhere, but if we hide there, we'll be safer.  Not even the Saiyans like to mess with those guys, so--"

"We're not looking for a place to hide, Keda," Zatte said.  

"Why not?" Keda demanded.  "If you want another adventure, we can turn around and go back to Wist.  I'm sure the Shockmaster could arrange something unpleasant for us--"

"Ladies, please," Topsas said, raising two of his hands.  "I think if we all calm down, we can surely come to a decision we can all agree upon--"

"This isn't a debate!" Zatte said.  

"Of course not!" Keda shot back.  "You hijacked the ship!  We can't go anywhere without you overriding the helm controls!"

“I was right, wasn’t I?” Zatte shouted.

“That doesn’t mean you’re in charge!” Keda said.  “You don’t get to boss us around like we’re a couple of henchmen--”

“I never said--!”

They began to bicker, and Topsas found it more and more difficult to follow what they were saying.  At last he realized they were speaking in their native tongue.  He sighed, and took another sip of his tea.  

"It must say, it is a pretty language you Dorluns have," he said quietly.  

They went on like this for a while, and then they felt a slight movement in the deckplate beneath their feet.  Keda looked up and frowned.  "We've altered course," she said.

"Ah, I can understand you again," Topsas said gratefully.  

"That's impossible," Zatte said.  "I locked out the controls."

"I'm sure of it," Keda insisted.  "Something must be wrong with the engines, or the navigational sensors are out of whack.   We'd better get up to the bridge and--"

The door to the galley slid open again.  They all turned and saw Luffa in the threshold.  She was covered in bandages made from Topsas' silk, and wearing nothing else but one of the oversized T-shirts she slept in.  They were merchandise sent to her by the studio behind the unauthorized movie of her life.  Emblazoned on the front were the words "THE SUPER SAIYAN" in bright yellow.  

"Ninth Eye," Topsas gasped.  "What are you doing out of bed?"

Luffa ignored them all and stormed to the refrigerator.  She opened it and withdrew a large bottle of batter.

"I thought you gave her sedatives," Zatte whispered to him.  

"I did," Topsas whispered back.  "Not enough, evidently."

Luffa put the bottle to her lips and began drinking the batter, tilting her head back until the bottle was empty.   She slammed it down on the countertop, then wiped her mouth with her forearm.  She planted her hands on the countertop and leaned over it, her back turned to the others.  She took several deep breaths and shook her head. 

"Little drowsy," she said.  "You guys're on your own f'r dinner, okay?  Okay.  Okay."

"Luffa, I--" Zatte began to say, but Luffa raised her hand, gesturing for her to be quiet.  

"Oh.  Oh.  Almost forgot.  I set a new course.    Ship's taking us to my place," Luffa said.  "Take about...uhhhhhh... few weeks.   Anybody tries to hack the computer again, I'll breach the hull.  We all die in space.  Got it?"

None of them knew what to say.  When there was no answer, Luffa turned to glare at Zatte.  Her eyes were glassy, but her stern expression left no room for interpretation.

"Got it?" Luffa repeated.  

"Y-yeah," Zatte said.  

"Okayyyyyy.  We'll talk later," she said.  "I gotta ask y'something."

"Sure," Zatte said nervously.  "Later."

"Right now I need to lie down.  Thanks ever’body.  Thanks f'r... stuff."

With that, Luffa shambled out of the galley and down the corridor.  

"I really ought to check on her," Dr. Topsas said.  He set down his cup and scurried after her.  

"I should get to the bridge," Keda said.  "See if I can find out where she's taking us."

"'Her place?'" Zatte asked.  

Keda shrugged.  "Beats me.  Luffa was born on a spaceship.  I don't think she's even been to the Saiyan homeworld before.  The closest thing she has to a permanent address is the Emerald Eye, and we're already here."

She ran out of the galley, leaving Zatte alone to look at the empty batter bottle.

NEXT: Unseen Forces