#only family and androids get to stay in this colony

[pushing500]

Well now I’m invested in the idea of that outpost surviving and thriving (fillin with every person Mechi ever gets and decides they don’t want around) and they all live on to thank Mechi meanwhile Mechi still like ‘cool celebrate at a distance’ (or maybe a good feel of ‘heh. I can help people! And without needing to stick around!’ Cause. Man left his sis BEHIND to help them? You need some regular copium to believe that didn’t hurt some feels or that something might go wrong while ur gone (all that coffee and no anxiety?)—) I love ur rimworld serieses—

My brother has remarked that it seems like Mechi is the one in an outpost while the gang at Arwell is building their own fully-fledged colony. I thought that "reclusive research outpost mechanitor" sounded like a fun story pitch, so I'm happy to roll with it.

As for feeling anxious about leaving his sister behind... I think Mechi has sorely underestimated just how much his single-minded determination runs in his family.

Of course, he doesn't know that Yamka has dragged his parents around the galaxy looking for him, so he's probably still anxious about it, buuut... He might be reunited with his family sooner than he thinks (Randy willing 🤞).

[k-nayee]

Phantom Code Alien Romulus | ii

wc: 1.3k a/n: Just a heads-up! This mini-series was originally a one-shot but ended up longer than expected. So once I post the final chapter (when Andy chases Navarro and Bjorn after the facehugger incident), that will be the end of the Phantom Code series. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

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ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

After that night, your parents reluctantly agreed to help Mr. Carradine.

Your mother, with her skills in engineering and maintenance, took it upon herself to make sure he stayed functioning.

She would spend hours reading over schematics; surveying the company's scrap yards, marking down the locations of parts that could be used to keep him working.

Your father also played a part in keeping Andy safe.

He and Mr. Carradine would go out at night, scavenging for the parts your mother had identified, risking everything to ensure that Andy stayed hidden.

It was a dangerous game, but they played it for the sake of family.

You ended up spending a lot of time with the synthetic, learning everything you could from your parents.

They taught you about his systems, his coding—everything they knew—so that you could if they were no longer around.

Soon you became proficient, able to handle most of the routine maintenance on your own.

As for the crush you had on him, it faded as all childhood infatuations do. You grew older, wiser, and understood that Andy was a synthetic being—an android, not a human.

But that didn't erase the fondness you felt for the android. You found yourself flushing at the small, thoughtful gestures he made, even if they were merely a result of his programming.

Life at the moment was getting better...

...until it wasn't.

It was a bitter winter, the cold seeped into every corner of the colony.

Pneumonia claimed your mother and the Carradines; leaving behind you, your father, and the Carradines' daughter—Rain.

As for her, she had become more distant after that, retreating into herself.

The reminders of what she had lost were too much for her to bear, and the bond between your families began to unravel with each passing day.

Your father did his best to fill the void left by your mother's absence, but it was clear that he was struggling. He became a sort of pseudo-guardian to Rain, checking in on her when he could, trying to keep the connection alive.

But Rain wasn't interested in the connection. The only thing that kept her tethered to you at all was Andy.

After your mother's death, you inherited her role of maintaining.

You would visit Rain's home, check up on his functioning and giving her the occasional lesson in how to care for him herself.

These visits were often brief, filled with awkward silences and the ghost of what had once been.

Like now: alone with Andy, muttering to yourself during a tricky repair—a habit gotten from your mother as a way to keep thoughts organized as you tinkered with circuits and lines of code.

"W-why...do you talk...to yourself?" Andy's voice stuttered, catching slightly before he could finish the question.

You blinked in surprise and looked up. He was already staring at you—his eyes, usually still, flickered slightly.

The intensity of his dark gaze seemed to pierce through you, making your heart skip.

"I... uh..." You stammered, feeling heat creep up your neck. "I-I guess it helps me keep track of what I'm doing. Talking out loud, I mean. It's easier for me to...organize my thoughts that...way?"

Your explanation felt clumsy, and you half-expected him to nod and move on, but he didn't. His stare remained unbroken.

"I... see," he said with a noticeable pause between words, voice crackling as if struggling to process each syllable. "C-can you... explain... what you're doing?"

His request caught you off guard, and you weren't quite sure how to respond. It made your stomach flip in an unfamiliar way.

"Um... y-yeah sure," you finally said, offering a small, shy smile as you tried to ignore the way your heart was racing. "Yeah, I think it would help."

So you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you turned your attention back to the task. You began to explain what you were doing, talking through each step in greater detail than before, as if teaching him as you went along.

It was awkward at first; your words came out stiff. You stumbled over explanations, acutely aware of Andy's gaze on you.

But then, something shifted.

As you got deeper into the explanation, the nervousness faded and was instead replaced by the familiar focus you always felt when working.

The more you talked, the more you lost yourself in the technicalities of the process. And soon enough, you found your rhythm again.

"So that's why we need to adjust this part here," you continued as you worked, "If we don't, it could lead to a power imbalance, which would mess with your central processing unit."

Andy said nothing, simply watching as you spoke. There was no reaction from him, other than an involuntarily twitch of his fingers and the occasional sudden jerk of the head.

Suddenly aware of how much you were talking, embarrassment crept in, he probably didn't understand half of what you were saying.

"I-I'm sorry for rambling! I didn't mean to go on and on like that. I know it's probably boring to hear me—"

"Don't... be," Andy interrupted, his flat and stilted tone cutting through your self-consciousness. "I... like the... sound... of your voice."

The words jolted you.

You knew he meant it innocently—he was an android, after all, and couldn't possibly understand the implications of what he'd just said.

But that didn't stop the shiver of excitement that ran down your spine, the way your heart seemed to flutter in your chest.

"O-Oh," was all you could manage, your face getting hotter by the second.

]You tried to brush off the feeling, to remind yourself that he was just a machine, but it was harder than you expected.

Because, despite everything, Andy was attractive—stunning, even.

The way his dark smooth skin contrasted with the gentle coils of his hair, the way his (kissable) lips parted ever so slightly when he listened—it was impossible to ignore.

Then there were his eyes. Oh, his eyes.

Always seemed to hold more than they should, that he was seeing something in you no one else did. It was enough to make your breath hitch.

To make you wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than you'd known.

But what you didn't know was that Andy was learning. Every word you said, every concept you explained, he absorbed it all with the precision of a machine.

He wasn't just listening to the sound of your voice—he was processing everything, storing the knowledge you shared, and soon enough, he understood coding just as well as you did.

Maybe even better.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

Your relationship with Rain was...complicated.

It was one of those things that fell into a comfortable middle ground—neither too close nor too distant.

You weren't best friends; not the kind who shared secrets and dreams, who leaned on each other through thick and thin.

But you weren't strangers, either.

It was a kind of relationship that only existed because your parents knew each other, a connection formed out of circumstance rather than choice.

And so, most of your interactions with Rain were brief—exchanging greetings in passing, a nod, a polite smile.

Rain had her own life and friends—Tyler and his sister Kay, Bjorn and his adoptive sister Navarro. They were always together, a tight-knit group that seemed to share everything with each other while you stayed on the outskirts.

You didn't mind; being on the outside let you to observe without getting too involved, and that suited you just fine.

You actually got along with them all—except for Bjorn that is. You never particularly liked him.

He was brash, loud, and often rude with a temper that flared up at the smallest provocation. He seemed to delight in teasing you, making offhand comments that would get under your skin.

To you, Bjorn was an asshole, plain and simple. And you did your best to avoid him whenever possible.

But life has a way of forcing people together, especially in the wake of tragedy.

[thetristoneera]

In a land of imagination, as rule for the progression of life; androids are illegal to manufacture since the wake of the Species Wars.  With them being used primarily for their powers of annihilation, they had to be made illegal.  Androids now a days, are only made to serve.  They have no free will; what so ever.  With how Cyber wielders abused their powers to make sure Fairies, Elves & Merpeople were killed off; they have been banished.  It takes a lot to kill androids, but with the way super beings have evolved; they are now powerful enough to rip through spaceships at any given time.  Androids would still need a lot for them to be taken down, there for; illegal.  The sentence is immediate death, if you were to be caught conspiring to procreate an android.  

It's a good thing, Omega Medico has a sector of a space colony all to himself.  With black box technology, he has an area that cannot be hacked by any cyber wielder.  With it being so far from humanity, psychics are not able to catch on to his doings.  The thing is, Omega Medico cannot procreate; he was tortured to the point he was rendered castrated.  He unfortunately, doesn't have the means of procreating unless it involves cloning.  He doesn't want to go that route, unfortunate even some more for him; he was the only surviving person of a specific serial killer.  Body snatched at sixteen, rescued by seventeen.  It took a great amount of time for him to be rescued; then took a great amount of time for Omega to be the one to execute him.  Per his wishes, the death sentence would be administered by Omega when he's ready to do so.  As inhumane as it sounds, after many years of therapy & aging into an adult; Galactic Officers made it so that he was imprisoned in Omega's abode.  Making it a direct, death sentence of the unknown; as Omega aged into his sixty sixth year in life, the serial killer was forced to be immortal with very little humanity.  As he stayed in the same ten by ten by ten foot cell; he was deprived of sun light, deprived of food, deprived of any kind of nutrience until Omega said he could be fed.  It was a long unknown death sentence for him; as Omega spent many years figuring out how he will live his life.  At that day & age, Galactic Officers had cut all surveillance on the serial killer as Omega had all means of feeding him & having his cell cleaned by android technology.  When Omega figured he could procreate androids & raise them as his own; he could finally have a family.  Knowing that this was illegal, he told the mad serial killer his plan as he moved closer to it's death day.  The twelve victims of this serial killer had enough social media & medical records on them; that he could formulate a "re life" for them.  It would take him many years for this to be accomplished, but that meant; the specific prey of the serial killer, would still live on.  As this drove the serial killer to being more mad, Omega devised a plan of secrecy so he could resurrect them.  During this period, Omega existed on Planet Saudavet.  It was a spectacle of a public event, as Galactic Officers made the death sentence order possible.  Serial killer was placed in a wheel chair, confined by anti super being materials as Omega wheeled him from his abode through out the city.  It was like a parade as he walked all the way to the main street of the city; to the guillotine at the center city.  Citizens were allowed to show their disdain for another blip of humanity by physically assaulting him, if they wished.  The families of the victims took their shots, others against the inhumane took their shots as he was wheeled to his death location.  With him being immortal; he felt every weapon, fist or foot used to cause him pain; he had to take it per his punishment order.  Then he was placed into the guillotine facing upward & didn't get a last meal or any last words.  Before Omega pulled the lever; he said the names of all of the victims in order of which they died before he was fortunately rescued.  In the order in which they died, while the serial killer stared at the blade; then the city, humanity celebrated as a monster was finally no more.

The House of Omega, has lived on since; but his branch of the family tree stopped with him.  The branches of the other families stopped with those slain.  It would take a long time for him to become a prominent doctor; but having the reputation of a reputable survivor, a lot of doors were opened for him.  He was able to build a compound within Space Colony: Edro Weiv, the longer he existed; the further away it got from humanity.  Psychiatry visits rendered him a functioning member of society, as his erowology with the Super Being Surveillance Program helped him develop original ways of creating androids.  Creating the super power combinations his fellow victims had back in the day, he was able to firstly revive the girl he fell in love with.  The one that died first...  With the way he covered his tracks, time & time again; he was able to revive all of the victims to a child like state.  Then raised them with the knowledge of understanding who they originally were to what happened to them, to the kind of world they live in.  Eventually, he gained the nerve to actually read the dossiers revolving around how the serial killer was able to body snatch all of the victims.  His modus operandi dealt with creating diversions, they were giant diversions; incredibly goliath.  And that's where the Android Party began...

Not for the purpose of serial killing, but for big pay outs.  To complete a list all of the victims had, words he'd never forget.  All wrote in a journal like book that he has been protecting for many decades.  That kind of world tripping costs a lot of money.  To help out terrorist organizations or to help out do gooders; either way it goes, the androids will be those goliath diversions.  Great indestructible diversions that cannot be linked back to him.  For each victim wanted to migrate to another galaxy; all in multiple directions.  His jackpot is nowhere near what is needed, but they haven't given up.  Regardless of how much mayhem they cause to how many people they save, they move with the purpose of seeing those galaxies someday...

Base of Operations: Space Colony: Edro Weiv / Alliance: the Warrior Guild / Occupation: Galactic Class Diversion Enthusiast Extraordinaires / Their Order: Anarchy Specialists For Diversion Operations

[brokenjardaantech]

gloves

part of the groom lake aftermath series set quite a long time after everything i’ve posted.

pairing: simarkus

summary: 

markus gives simon a pair of gloves.

also on ao3

---

Simon has just put baby Vesti to sleep when he catches Markus smiling at nothing in particular. What puzzles him even further is how his husband also immediately gets up from where he is looking at a tablet on the sofa and disappearing into the closet to change, emerging like he is ready to go out despite the fact that it’s already 20:00 and most places in the colony are closed, and he can’t help but follow him to the front door where he is putting on a coat.

{Where are you going?} Simon asks through the bond between their minds because he doesn’t want to wake their child up. {It’s late.}

[A parcel just arrived,] Simon doesn’t remember seeing Markus this excited before apart from… never. The PL600 suddenly wants to kiss the face-splitting smile off his face and interface with him so that he knows what is making his husband so happy. [I’ll go out and collect it real quick.] Then Simon suddenly finds himself involved in a slow, gentle kiss, but Markus pulls away before he can deactivate his skin to initiate an interface. [Don’t worry, it’s something for you.]

He is disappearing into the darkness outside before Simon can react, and there is nothing he can do apart from pacing quietly around the house and waiting for his husband to return. Usually they would be at least cuddling on the sofa with their minds joined, but now that Markus is gone for his mysterious package that apparently contains something for Simon, he can only emulate it by wrapping a weighted blanket around himself on their bed. Far from the real thing and not nearly as comforting, but it will do for now. His stupid brain somehow always thinks that being alone means he’s back in that stupid cabin on that stupid ship, and the blanket, which is soft and smells like Markus and is nothing close to the standard-issue things they were all forced to wear and use during that painful trip that also changed not only humanity’s but also the entire galaxy’s history, serves as one small ‘no you’ to his stupid brain by telling it that he is safe in their home where Ryder and her people won’t be able to find them. Still, he resorts to his bad habit of holding his wrist close to his body with his other hand with a force tight enough for the skin to retract because it is the only thing preventing him from screaming and waking Vesti up right now, and that is how Markus finds him when he returns from the post office with the promised package with him.

[Love?] he asks no doubt from where he is changing back into his robe in the closet. The package has been deposited somewhere on the bed, but with his entire body hidden by the weighted blanket, it’s hard for Simon to pinpoint where it is. [Are you alright?]

Markus’ voice soothes his racing heart for a bit, but it takes a few moments to gather his courage to exit the safety and comfort from underneath the blanket and peek out with his nose still covered by the fabric, and of course Markus is in nothing but a pair of worn boxers and a maroon dressing gown that he doesn’t even bother to tie up. Sometimes Simon is convinced that the RK200 is doing it because he knows what it does to him, and the PL600 knows that he himself isn’t any better; sometimes he just throws on a loose shirt and a pair of boxers because it’s more convenient this way, but most of the times? He does it because he knows the effect that outfit has on Markus. He would’ve been climbing his husband if his curiosity wasn't nagging him about the parcel at the back of his mind. ‘I am now,’ Simon answers out loud as he slides out from where he was under the blanket until it is only covering his legs. ‘What have you got?’

Markus climbs onto the bed and crowds into Simon’s side before pulling the package onto his lap with a raise of his hand and a crackle of blue. He doesn’t open it at once, however, and instead covers Simon’s hand with his own and intertwines their fingers together while his skin deactivates. Simon does the same, their chassis slightly glowing as they initiate their interface, and Markus’ presence in his mind calms him even further despite the fact that their wrists are in contact with each other. He leans against his husband with his head on his shoulder and closes his eyes, allows himself to enjoy the interface for a moment. It’s early still.

He tenses when he feels Markus’ other hand touch his wrist. He knows Markus won’t hurt him and enter his mind without his permission - hell, they’re even interfacing right now - but sometimes his body just forgets that he is safe now and acts defensively first, and he doesn’t know if it breaks his own heart more or Markus’. Yet another ‘gift’ Ryder left them during the one last fight for dominance over humanity, and deep down he knows that it has nothing to do with her as well; it’s just him still being unable to get over that one single trip. Then he feels Markus kiss his temple.

‘That’s why I got this for you,’ Simon feels him shift through their contact, and he opens his eyes just to see his husband opening the package with some precise biotic tendrils. His thoughts must have leaked to Markus through their interface. ‘I had to customise them to fit what I want to give you but… may I put them on for you?’

Put them on? Simon wants to ask, but soon he understands what Markus is talking about. Unfolding in front of their eyes as the RK200 lifts them up is a pair of evening gloves, and when Simon scans the fabric, his system tells him that it’s made out of one of the very few materials in the galaxy that can block interface signals from androids - and yet it is also nothing like the bulky ones he has seen or heard of before. When Simon reaches out to take them in his hands, they are light and smooth to the touch. Markus holds out his hands to ask for the gloves back, rolling one of them up carefully before sliding them onto Simon’s arm with one smooth motion, and Simon is mesmerised by the sensation of the fabric against his skin. It is cool and soft and he doesn’t feel any seams at all even though he has deactivated his skin up to his upper arm, halfway up which is where the glove ends, staying on and sticking despite the lack of detectable grip on the inner linings. And it is interfaceable from this end too, a notification popping up in his HUD telling him that he can change the colour of the glove he is wearing. He blinks it away to leave the original colour for now.

‘You ready for the other one?’ there is something in Markus’ eyes, something that Simon would’ve known that it means when he isn’t so focused on his shiny new piece of cloth, but he does hear the question and gives a tiny nod because he is still processing… everything, and Markus rolls the other glove onto his other arm in a similar fashion, letting go of Simon completely so that they aren’t directly touching at all; they do maintain their interface through the weighted blanket and their legs, because as he plays with the settings and interfaces with his gloves to absorb the information packet attached, Simon isn’t sure if he can find the words to express his gratitude and joy.. A lightweight glove that covers most of his arm and blocks interface from the outside but not the other way round, which means no one is going to accidentally interface with him with a brush of their arms. 

Which means even if Ryder somehow manages to find them, she won’t be able to use her old grab-and-forcefully-interface method anymore, eliminating one of the greatest fears Simon has since that fateful trip to the galactic core.

‘I know you don’t feel safe exposing your arms and most clothes either don’t cover your hand at all or at least leave your fingertips exposed,’ Markus starts explaining. He looks a bit shy as if he is uncertain whether he did the right thing or not. ‘Normal gloves won’t solve the problem of the sleeves not covering your hands because they can always ride up so… Can’t go wrong with long gloves and sleeves, can we?’

And Simon can imagine it: him putting on his gloves before donning an interface-proof shirt so that all it is left of the places people can touch directly and interface with him are his neck, his face, his head, all of which only Vesti and Markus can touch without losing a digit to an angry biotic android or an involuntary biotic outburst, ensuring that there will be no forced interfaces, no sidecarring in his own mind while whoever initiated the interface rummage around his mind for that one single programme that they want to use, no more being used as a component of a greater network that will leave him drained for the rest of the day or even days. He will be able to go out with his family without constantly trying to avoid other people which is virtually impossible.

He will finally have some resemblance of a normal life even if it takes two layers of fabric on his arms no matter the season and weather.

‘I know it doesn’t solve the issue from the root, but I don’t want you to be afraid anymore. You deserve to be happy and live without fear.’

His heart soaring, Simon throws his arms around Markus just in time for his tears to fall. Tears of relief, of joy, of love; he sobs into Markus’ shoulder because he doesn’t know how else to express himself, and he doesn’t even know that he has deactivated most of his skin to be as close to his husband as he can be both physically and mentally until he realises that the coolness against his skin isn’t from Markus’ robe but is from the other android’s bare chassis showing and brushing against his own. He feels a pair of large hands patting his shoulder, rubbing circles on his back, sliding down the bumps and valleys of his spine until it nearly touches his buttocks but not quite yet, and he feels his strength drain away completely underneath his husband’s gentle but firm touches. It does remind him that he hasn’t said anything yet, however, and once he starts sending a simple ‘thank you’ to the other side of their interface, it doesn’t seem to stop, and he doesn’t know he can sound so breathless and worn-out in their shared mental space. Well, he does now.

[I’m glad that you like them,] Markus says with patches of his skin still deactivated. [Let’s take them off for now, shall we? We can test them out tomorrow.]

Simon is still too overwhelmed to do it himself so he lets Markus gently glide the fabric off his arm and place them back into the box, and instead of storing it in the walk-in closet that is attached to their bedroom, he merely places it on the bedside table on Simon’s side before returning to his usual side of the bed once more, dropping his gown onto the floor with one smooth motion that shows off his body. Then he crawls up the bed and cages Simon with his limbs, intertwining their fingers together next to Simon’s head on the pillow, their skins retracting to reveal glowing chassis. The air starts to smell of static and eezo, and while it once used to be a source of fear and terror, now he just associates it with Markus, with protection, with home. {Yes,} he answers the question before Markus can ask it. {Always.}

Markus leans down and draws him into a deep kiss, and the two of them are lost in each other’s body and mind for the next few hours.

[crystallized-iron]

The Inaccuracy

For Cherik Week 2020, hosted by @teamxcherik

Day 1: Space AU

AO3

***** ***** *****

Arrivals to the space colony were separated into three lines. Erik paused momentarily as his comrades presented their information at the check-in counter. He held his papers ready as he approached the man running the computer for his line. There was never a problem at previous colonies they traveled to for work, but those check-ins were all run by inferior androids running on autopilot, simply copying the information on the forms into the computers.

But this one felt different. Erik could not detect a trace of metal in the small yet pretty man that smiled at him and stated, "Identification please."

Erik handed the paperwork over. His ID card was scanned. The papers were skimmed through, all necessary information typed in.

There was something about the man that kept Erik on edge. No metal had to mean he was human. But why? Check-in counters were a dangerous place for humans to work.

As the man returned Erik's information, their fingers brushed briefly against each other. It was only a second but it was enough for the man to flinch away from Erik with a gasp.

He looked into widening bright blue eyes as the man whispered, "You are not…"

Erik glanced at the men he was traveling with. This was not good.

But then the man recovered from his shock and forced a polite smile on his face. "I do hope you enjoy your stay."

He was letting him through. Erik murmured a thank you and took his paperwork back, but before he could leave he heard the man say, “I hope no one else learns of the inaccuracy in your paperwork.”

Erik turned to him, but the man’s gaze remained on the screen in front of him. “You won’t tell anyone?”

The man glanced at him then. “No. I should, but no. Just go.”

With a nod, Erik walked away, catching up to the others.

“Everything alright, Lehnsherr?” one asked him. “You were stopped for awhile.”

“Everything is fine.”

“Did you notice the kid though?” said the second. “I swore he was one of those new androids until Lehnsherr touched him. He was too professional, too polite. He couldn’t be human.”

“You need to be professional and polite if you are going to be stationed at check-in.”

“But isn’t that why other colonies just use androids? No risk of injury then.”

“How are you certain he isn’t one?” asked the first. “Don’t the latest models have real emotions?”

“That’s just terrifying. Emotional machines. Isn’t that supposed to be a really bad idea?”

Erik shook his head. “Do not anger them and you would have nothing to worry about.”

“You think so?”

“Most living things do attack when angry, or threatened.”

“But are androids really alive?”

Erik did not reply to that, and remained quiet as the other two discussed whether androids really were living beings capable of human emotion, or simply advanced machines running on a program.

***** ***** *****

Charles logged out of the check-in computer two hours later, waiting as Emma signed in for her shift. “Is it really required for us to report all inaccurate information to the authorities?” he asked.

“Of course it is,” she told him. “That was one of the first things we were told when forced into this job.”

“Because only we would know.” Charles bit his lip, his eyes focused on his spotless shoes. Professionalism in every detail, just as ordered. “Have you ever -”

“Hush,” she stopped him. You know they have eyes and ears everywhere.

He nodded and sent back, Have you ever let someone through without reporting the inaccuracies?

Her expression softened as she looked at him. I have. It was a family.

He has no family. But that isn’t the problem.

What was?

There was a beep at the computers, signaling that another ship had docked.

Charles gave Emma a small smile. “I suppose that means I have to go now. Good luck tonight.”

“You too, Charles.” Don’t get yourself into trouble.

I know.

He left the check-in counter, and walked into the heart of the city.

The lights installed into the ceiling of the colony to produce artificial sunlight were dimmed to mimic moonlight. The city itself was illuminated by electric sweetlights along the perfectly paved roads. There was artificial turf in the one foot gap between road and sidewalk, and behind the flawless sidewalk corners stood real trees that aided in oxygen production.

Sometimes Charles wondered how much like the real Earth his home colony was. As a child, he would stare at old color photographs of the planet, amazed at the natural landscapes, the animals, streams, lakes, and rivers. Even cities on Earth were so much more natural looking than the carefully constructed environment he grew up in.

But the original Earth never felt real to him. Nor did the man from earlier, Erik Lehnsherr.

He had felt what he thought was human skin with the usual warmth and softness that flesh had, but something so vital for human life had been missing.

Erik Lehnsherr had no brain, or at least, no human brain.

As Charles walked, he began to pick up the mental voices of the men Erik Lehnsherr had arrived with and he looked into the window of a small diner. There they were, along with the mysterious Erik Lehnsherr.

What these men were doing on this colony was no longer any of his business. Why Erik’s information declared him a human when he certainly was not had nothing to do with Charles.

In fact, he should report it. Why would an android pretend to be human anyway? Erik had to be up to no good.

And then Erik’s eyes found his.

Charles swallowed and turned away from the man’s stare. He started walking. What Erik did was none of his business. It had nothing to do with him.

His walk became a jog as he rushed to his apartment building. He stopped at the door to catch his breath.

What was he doing? What if there was a sinister reason behind Erik Lehnsherr pretending to be human? He should have reported it right away! What if someone got hurt, or worse?

“Excuse me.”

Charles gasped at the voice and turned. Erik Lehnsherr had followed him home, and now stood almost near enough for Charles to touch him. “What?” Charles demanded. “I didn’t tell anyone.”

Erik stepped closer. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” There was a tremor in his own voice that Charles chose to ignore. “I was only followed all the way home.”

“I am sorry for that,” Erik told him. “I didn’t know that’s where you were going.”

“Why did you follow me?”

Closing the distance between them, Erik said, “Because you know.”

“And I already told you I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know. But I want to find out how you know. What makes you so different that you can learn the truth in an instant?”

Charles’ hand went to the door handle. “If you kill me, everyone will know.”

“I will not kill you.”

Shaking his head, Charles muttered, “I can’t tell whether you’re lying or not.”

Erik showed his hands. “Unarmed. You can check if you need.”

“You don’t need a weapon. You are built with a stronger body.”

“You are right. But killing is against the rules for all, new and old.”

Charles could feel his body shaking. He never imagined he would find himself in a position such as this. “Come on,” he said then, opening the door.

“You will allow me into your home?”

“Discussing things further out here is a terrible idea. They are always recording.”

Erik went into the building after him, the door clicking shut behind them. They went down the long corridor together, passing numbered doors. Fragments of conversations from the other side of those doors seemed to echo in the usually barren corridor.

Charles typed a code onto the keypad by his door. After hitting Enter, the door opened and they walked inside.

The light in the first room automatically came on. On the far wall were three screens measuring oxygen level, temperature, and time. An ancient model personal computer booted up at the lonely desk covered in old plates and a couple of solid color mugs. A couch sat in the middle of the room, a single book resting on one of the cushions, its place marked by a receipt.

Erik stayed by the door. Charles removed his jacket, feeling the man watching his every move. “Sit there,” he said to his guest with a point at the couch. As Erik did as was requested, Charles added, “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Do not move from that spot.”

“I do not plan to,” Erik promised, glancing at the personal computer.

Charles left for his room, quickly changing out of his uniform and into a pair of sweats and a comfortable t-shirt a size too big. He ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. What was he doing?

He checked his uniform pocket and found what he needed. At first glance, it appeared to be a flashlight, but it had a built-in taser; just pop off the cap where the light shined from.

He held onto it as he went back out, finding Erik still on the couch, but reading the last few pages of his book. “Was I really gone that long?”

“I am a fast reader,” Erik answered. He placed the book back on the couch cushion and looked up at him. “You are armed.”

“I am.” Charles went and sat at his desk. He grabbed the mouse and clicked through a few windows, opening a recording program and clicking the button.

If anything happened to him tonight, Emma would know.

He swiveled his chair toward Erik. “Alright.”

Erik leaned into the couch. “Most are easily fooled, but you were not. Why is that?”

Charles took in the sight of the android seeming so comfortable on the furniture, wondering if it was even possible for an android to feel comfort. “I am different from others.”

“Yes you are. But how so?”

He stared into the cold gray eyes. “I am a human with telepathy.”

“Telepathy?”

“Yes. My DNA was altered while I was growing in an artificial womb. I know of two others with the same alteration, and the three of us take turns at the check-in counter.”

“To catch androids claiming to be human?”

“To catch liars, frauds, and criminals,” Charles corrected as he checked the taser. “We are supposed to report inaccuracies in information.”

Erik’s gaze dropped to the weapon in Charles’ hands. “You are very informative.”

“I give you honesty -” he popped off the cap - “you give me honesty.” Their eyes met again. “Seems fair to me.”

“I suppose it does.”

“Now.” Charles leaned closer. “Why does your paperwork say you are human?”

Erik frowned. “Again, how do you -”

“Telepathy.”

“Yes, you said that, but -”

“You don’t have a brain.”

“I do,” Erik told him.

“Not a human one.”

“No, that is true.” He actually sighed. Was that a normal thing androids did? He seemed so real but he wasn’t. “Shaw, he is the one that… well…”

“Created you?” Charles finished.

Erik nodded to him. “Yes. He filled out my paperwork. He believed I was perfection, that no one would ever guess.”

“If I did not have my power, I would probably ever know,” Charles admitted. “I would have thought…”

“Yes?”

“Don’t worry about that.” Charles pushed the thought of Erik being a beautiful man away, and then said, “But I touched your hand. I touched it and there was nothing I could feel inside of your head. It was shocking because your information stated human but that was impossible because humans have brains.”

“Once again,” Erik said, “I do have one.”

“I am not talking about a computer for a brain.”

“Human brains are simply organic computers.”

Charles groaned and leaned back in his chair. “Shut up… I should have reported you.”

Erik watched him. “Why didn’t you? You found what you call an inaccuracy in my information, but then you did nothing about it.”

“You didn’t seem to be doing anything wrong other than that, really,” Charles told him. “You are just trying to work and survive like the rest of us.”

“Do you still feel that way?”

“You followed me home. I was already doubting my decision, and then you were there and I got scared and… I don’t know.” He eyed the taser in his hands. “Is everything else the truth?”

“Yes. It is all the truth except for being human.”

“No other crimes committed?”

“None.”

“You mean that?” Charles asked, lifting his gaze to Erik’s face. “Not lying?”

“Would you be able to tell if I was?”

“I am trying to trust you, Erik.”

The ends of Erik’s mouth began to quirk upwards. “You want to trust me?”

“I need to know I did the right thing.”

“No other crimes committed.” Erik smiled, such a warm expression for a mechanical being. “Not lying.”

Charles let out a heavy breath. “I am taking your word on that. Please do not let me down.”

“I won’t.” He gestured to the computer. “Are you going to keep recording?”

Popping the cap back on the flashlight taser, Charles asked, “Are you planning on staying longer?”

“If you will allow it.” The cold gray eyes drifted over Charles. “I must say, despite the interrogation, I do enjoy being in your company, if only to admire your beauty.”

Charles stared at him, taken aback by the statement. Could androids really… Did he actually… “You don’t really mean that.”

“I am not lying. You said you want to trust me. I want that as well.”

“I am trying, but you have been lying about yourself for your entire existence. How do I know you are being honest now?”

“Because like you said, you were honest with me.” Erik moved to the cushion nearest Charles. “That does mean a lot to me.”

“Does it?”

“It does.”

Charles hesitated then said, “I don’t know you.”

“No you don’t.”

“Would you mind telling me about yourself?”

“As your evidence against me?” Erik asked.

Charles went to the computer, setting the flashlight on the desk. He stopped the recording and closed the program before turning back to Erik. “How about now?”

“Only if you would tell me more about yourself as well. Seems fair, right?”

Leaning closer, Charles said, “It does seem fair. Go ahead and start then.”

“Alright. I will start with my creator, Sebastian Shaw…”

[zutaralesbian]

Gallavich fic recs?

Oooooh okay. I'm going to try to rec things that don't pop up on lists all the time lol.

Dreaming of a Shitty Apartment: A post 9x06 fic about Ian and Mickey surviving by dreaming and hoping.

(Multi chapt and complete. A really good post 9x06 fic. This was my headcanon fic about Gallavich's future until it was announced that they were coming back in S10. The author has an AU fic called "Can't Figure You Out" that I'm also really enjoying. )

sideways: Ian attempts to make amends. Mickey tries to stay strong.

(Multi chapt and complete. This is my newest fave. It's a S6/S7 fix it fic and those are always my jam lol. Very in character and realistic.)

Grow for Me: While working at South Side Florists, Ian discovers a strange and interesting plant that can help him get everything he’s ever wanted—money for his family, the attention of his coworker, maybe even a way out of the South Side. All he has to do is keep it fed. Unfortunately, a deal with a plant like this one comes with some strings.

(A long one-shot. This is a Little Shop of Horrors AU, if the summary didn't give it away lol. This fic gets pretty creepy at points being that it's about a plant that eats people, but it's not too bad. Some blood and gore though. Annnnnd I would suggest reading everything this author has written because all her fics are gold. Her alien! Ian fic "Two of Your Earth Minutes" is another fave of mine.)

Haunted and Damned: Ian is running out of time. And the time that he does have left, he spends wishing he could be with the one man he can no longer have.

(Long one-shot. This is a post S7 fic but with vampires. A really creative idea. Warnings: It deals heavily with cancer and gets pretty descriptive about it.)

all comes down to you: Mickey would do anything to be in his kid's life, even if that means faking a relationship with the one person he wants nothing to do with.

(Multi chapt and complete. This fic is the romcom Gallavich fic of my dreams. Ian is Mickey's boss who he hates. But they end up having to fake a relationship for Reasons and....you can guess how that goes. Everything else by this author is amazing as well. "Plus One" is another fave of mine.)

Maintenance: A colony ship embarks on a 51-year mission with only two conscious passengers: a maintenance worker, and a maintenance android.

(Multi chapt and complete. This author has a knack for taking weird concepts and making them into great fics lol. And this one is probably my fave of theirs. Mickey is the maintenance worker and Ian is the android.)

if he's the moon, I'm eclipsed: “You’re so beautiful, Mick.” He blurts, unable to stop himself. Mickey just laughs at that, soft and sad. “You can’t even see me,” He says, voice dripping with self-loathing. “You wouldn’t say that if you could see me.” “I don’t need to see you to know that." OR the one where Ian is blind, and falls in love with Mickey's voice.

(One-shot. The summary says it all. Really cute and sweet. It takes place when Ian and Mickey are around their S2/S3 ages I think.)

Letters From You to Me: Mickey’s rude, curt, and caustic, but Ian likes him anyway. And while the rest of his family is scrawling out pages to their Juvie pen-pals, Ian gets to write crap like: You’re an idiot. Seagal is lame, everyone knows that Van Damme is the man.

(One-shot. Ian and Mickey meet as pen pals while Mickey is in juvie. It's told mostly through their letters. It's cute and funny. It made me laugh a couple times reading it the first time.)

The Fight for You: Mickey spent years fighting to make sure Ian Gallagher knew he was loved and protected. He fought against every obstacle to stay by Ian’s side. Everything he became was for Ian, but when Ian left the love of his life with a simple 'I love you' 'I’m sorry' he never realized the mistake he was making. Mickey drove over that border into Mexico with nothing but Ian’s cash and an empty heart. Mickey Milkovich became instantly untraceable. Ian suffered the consequence. Would he suddenly risk everything for a second shot with the missing fugitive?

(Multi chapt and incomplete. But it's very close to being finished and has over 40 chapters to read through. This was the first fic I started reading after S7 aired and it was very therapeutic for me in a lot of ways lol. A very good fic of Ian and Mickey fighting against all odds to be together. There is a Mickey/OC relationship for about half the fic but it's always pretty chest that the reader is meant to root for Gallavich.)

To the Moon and Back: Werewolf Mickey

(A series of one-shots with werewolf! Mickey. The first fic in the series is about Ian and Mickey meeting and getting together and the others are about their growing relationship and Mickey's escapades as a werewolf. Really good and cute.)

broad-shouldered beasts series: Six years after Mickey goes to jail, he's released on parole. He does his best to build a "normal" life and a relationship with his son while juggling the scars of his past.

(A series of one-shots. These fics deal with some very heavy stuff. Past trauma, homophobia,depression, and a eating disorder just to name a few. But it's all dealt with very respectfully. The first fic is mostly about Mickey bonding with Yev and getting back with Ian after he's released from prison and the rest of them mainly deal with Ian and Mickey overcoming their past issues and traumas and raising Yev with Svetlana. It also has the Mickey/Fiona friendship that I wanted but didn't get in canon.)

Hope you get some enjoyment out of these anon :)

[guapogato]

Nixie Rio for @thealienships‘s Artessa’s Bachelorette Challenge!

Tinker | Self-Assured| Adventurer Nixie grew up in a mining colony on an asteroid. Time there was filled with back-breaking work and overall dullness. Her only solace was tinkering with discard mining equipment as she takes glimpses of the planets they drift past from a porthole. 

Then late one sleep cycle, Nixie snuck into a small cargo ship and hot wired it to start. Off she went, for adventure to places she once thought were impossible to go to. Even now she uses the same old cargo ship, barely stay put with elbow grease and holographic stickers, to take her to exciting locations. Despite with all of this adventure, it can get lonely without sharing the fun with someone else. + Her family came from a small water planet but moved to the mining colony for work. + has a bad case of wanderlust and  is restless. + Loves to tinker with anything she can get her hands on. What's better than taking things apart and making them better? ....Doesn't really work with living beings, per say but some discarded android parts and stickers can do the trick for now. + Due to her boundless curiosity and need to mess with any electronic she see, Nixie has developed quite a name for herself around the galaxy. It even cost her an arm. She’s fine, though. She enjoys her new cyborg prosthetic better anyways. + Is always curious and open about everything. There is so much out there that it seems ignorant to stay closed off by new experiences and people.  + Hasn’t had much luck in love but is hoping Artessa and her will make a long-lasting connection. 

[braincoins]

Based on @eijiroukiriot‘s excellent idea:

She’d fought for Newt and Bishop to be allowed to testify, too, but it didn’t make a difference. The tribunal didn’t want to hear from a child - even if she had been on colony since the beginning of The Incident (the only way it was referred to, aside from the more specific “The LV-426 Incident”) - and for some reason didn’t trust an android, despite his recollections being arguably clearer and more straightforward.

She suspected that Newt and Bishop had been stricken from the tribunal’s witness list because their testimony would be too damning. Instead, only she and Hicks were allowed, because their testimony could be minimized, their characters impugned in some way: Hicks was a grunt, he’d been injured (and thus presumably traumatized, calling his recollections into doubt), and, most importantly, he wasn’t the one who’d seen the colony’s logs. He wasn’t the one who’d been locked in a lab with two facehuggers. He knew only what she’d told him.

And, of course, she had those two not-so-little words in her file: “psychometric probation.” It didn’t matter that The Incident proved she hadn’t been crazy. What they were likely to see and hear was a woman who had already blown up one piece of expensive equipment and was now responsible for another. She’d be painted as the mastermind, the ringleader. They’d claim she went specifically to blow up the colony. I might as well be some sort of terrorist. 

She and Hicks met with the lawyers who had brought suit against The Company. They provided as much information as they could, but most of their evidence had either blown up or had been taken by The Company. They spent hours being prepped, being told to remain calm on the stand, being told how to say what they had to say so it’d come across in the best light. It wasn’t quite lying. It was “a purposeful way of describing the truth.” 

They were given keycards for a local hotel; the lawyers were putting them up at their own expense. You mean the expense of your clients, who lost friends and family members at Hadley’s Hope. She took the keycard though. The rooms had already been paid for. She shared a look with Hicks and knew: they would not be ordering room service or raiding the mini-bar.

They were taken to the hotel: nothing fancy, she was relieved to see, but not a dump. The room they’d been given had two queen-sized beds, shared a single nightstand between them, and overlooked the UV-and-pollution-shielded pool. There wasn’t a mini-bar, but there was a small fridge and a quickcook, along with that most blessed of all inventions: a coffee-maker. 

“This is nicer than my last apartment,” she commented. 

“Nicer than anywhere I’ve ever lived,” Hicks replied. “Which bed you want?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll take the one by the door then.” He dropped his USCM-issued duffel on that bed. 

She turned to smile at him. “In case a Company-paid assassin breaks in and tries to kill us?” When he half-smiled and shrugged, she snorted and shook her head. “Still trying to protect me?”

“Hey, a Company-paid assassin could very well come in through the window,” he said, gesturing to the wide pane of shatter-proof glass. “Then you can protect me.”

She gave up and set her bag down on the bed by the window. Let him have the one by the door. Ultimately, he was right: it didn’t really matter. And it probably made him feel better to have someone to protect.

They split the duties: he went down to the konbini to pick up some food for them; she called Bishop to check up on Newt and Jones (since she’d left them both in his care). Then she took a shower and changed into a clean tank top and soft shorts. She was just coming out when the door beeped and Hicks walked back in.

“Just me,” he said. 

“You always say that,” she pointed out. 

“You always jump when the door opens,” he replied.

“You do it to Newt and Bishop, too.”

“Old habits.” He set the bag down on the small table. “I got an assortment; we’ll be here for a bit, after all.”

She wandered over. “Any beer?”

He chuckled as he pulled out a six pack and an already-chilled bottle, handing her the latter. “Got some water, too.” He moved to put the six-pack in the fridge.

She pulled the cap off and took a swig. “Insta-toast for the morning?”

“You a mind reader?” he asked.

“I wish.” She turned and went to sit on the edge of her bed. “I wouldn’t have gone back.”

He stopped unloading and turned to her. “You shouldn’t have had to. Burke lied to you, used the fact that you’d been through hell to bait you.”

“But if I hadn’t...” She sighed and looked him in the eye... the one remaining, anyway.

He held her gaze and then abruptly turned back to unpacking his haul. “Our lives don’t mean that what happened to you was right.”

“I know. But it makes me feel a little better.”

He was quiet a long moment. Then, “I’m glad.” He pulled out another chilled beer, popped the top, chugged it ‘til it was half gone before setting it down. “So, what’s your pleasure? French bread pizza? Ham and cheez omelet?”

“Ugh, I can hear the ‘z’ in ‘cheez’ when you say it.”

“Got some chicken fried rice, some pot roast with vaguely-gravy-flavored slime...”

She snorted and stood, taking another drink as she approached the bag. She grabbed the first one she saw. “I’ll take this one.”

“No cornbread with that one, so you should be safe.”

“You are never letting that go, are you?” she asked with a chuckle.

“Nope!” He grinned as best his scarred face was able and grabbed his beer. “I’m going to hit the shower; I’ll eat when I come out.”

“You’re going to drink beer in the shower?”

“Only way to do it sometimes. Back in Basic, we weren’t allowed booze, so if someone snuck in some beers, you’d sneak it into the head or into the showers, chug like your life depended on it. So, sometimes, I still do it. Just... like a salute to the old days.”

She nodded. “Just don’t fall down drunk in there. I’ll have to come save you.”

“Again.” He went to his duffel to get a change of clothes.

Her nod was a little more solemn this time. “Again.”

“Eat something,” he said. “If I come out and I don’t see you eating, I’m going to make you eat something else while I watch.”

“You’re not my father!”

“And you’re not the only one who can call Bishop and talk to Newt. I am under specific orders to make sure you take care of yourself.”

She huffed in mock-anger. “That little fink...”

“Eat,” he said again, before heading into the bathroom.

When the door shut behind him, she unwrapped the konbini meal she’d selected - it claimed to be penne with marinara - and shoved it into the quickcook. Less than a minute later, she sat down to partially-molten gluten tubes with sweetened ketchup (if you wanted to be honest about the taste). It came with a side of soggy cardboard that smelled sort of like garlic, and “a brownie” that was actually the best part of the whole meal, since it was basically a chocolate sponge.

Hicks came out in USCM-issued boxers, dog tags jingling. “Aw, you ate the brownie already. I was gonna ask if I could have it.”

“Never,” she said. “But I promise you can have all my cornbread for the rest of our lives.”

They both laughed, and he heated up the alleged chicken fried rice, dropping the tray on the table opposite her and taking his seat. They talked about anything except the tribunal, which they both viewed as a lost cause, or the media surrounding the case. They talked politics, sports, Newt’s improvement in grades since switching schools. They talked vaguely about therapy, about any chance of surgery for Hicks, but they never mentioned what they said to their doctors, never talked about why Hicks needed facial reconstruction and half a biomechanical heart in the first place.

Plastic trays & flatware in one recycle bin, glass beer bottles in the other. “I’m surprised you spring for the glass ones,” she said.

“Tastes better.”

“Mm.”

They tried to watch TV, but nothing caught her interest or his. Eventually, they gave up and turned in for an early night. She activated the dark setting on the windows and crawled into her bed, scooting under the covers before she reached out to turn off the light. “Good night, Dwayne. Don’t dream.”

“Yeah, you, too, Ellen.” The lights went out.

She’d told Newt, as they’d headed back to Earth, that maybe they could dream now. She’d wanted that to be true. But the reality was that dreams were never safe. She felt like she had fewer nightmares but that they were so much worse now. Falling asleep was a gamble, and not one she was always sure she wanted to take. 

She watched Hicks roll over, putting his back to her. He’d chosen to sleep on one side of the bed, the side closest to the door. He was still thinking tactically, still putting himself between her and danger. He still wanted to protect her. 

She watched his breathing even and slow and still couldn’t fall asleep. She rolled over, put her back to him, and stubbornly closed her eyes. Sleep stayed out of reach. But the fear that rose up this night wasn’t of losing any of her new friends; it wasn’t memories of what had happened; it wasn’t even her now long-held fear that she’d been... implanted with one of those things. 

He wants to protect me, even when there’s nothing to protect me from. What happens when he realizes that? Will he leave then, duty done? Will he just walk back out of my life like everything that happened on LV-426 was just another day at the office?

It was ludicrous. It was laughable. Hicks wasn’t like that. No one could be like that. It was impossible to come through something like that and not be changed. But her fears weren’t rational. They slithered through her like acid in her blood, laying terrible thoughts in her mind.

It was so impulsive, she didn’t even think about it. It was as if she were reacting out of survival instinct: she threw off the covers of her bed, rose, and crossed to his. When she pulled the covers back on this side of the bed, he rolled over - he hadn’t been asleep at all, apparently. She laid down and scooted towards him; he welcomed her into his arms. 

If this were a movie, there’d be some moment of desperate passion here, some long-standing need to have one another that overcame them both. But right now, all she needed was to know he was here. And, it seemed, having her here was all he needed as well. 

They held each other, and she slept better than she had in ages. Sometimes, her eyes would open in the dark, and she’d find him there next to her, scarred but still breathing. She’d fall back asleep listening to the deep, soft inhale and exhale of him. And she had no need to dream, because he was right here beside her.

[kentonirvine542-blog]

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[rainythefox]

Deviant Heart (Detroit: Become Human Fanfic CH.18)

Chapter 18: Mother

Gavin wouldn't say much on the drive to Kamski's villa. But when he parked his Camaro and Connor stepped out with Hank, the cheeky detective stormed up to the luxurious cabin and pounded on the front door.

Connor and Hank exchanged looks. Gavin may have been helping them, but one thing was for certain in their minds. This was personal.

"Get ready for trouble," Hank whispered, and Connor nodded.

"Elijah! Open up you fucking prick! This ends now!" Gavin yelled as his fist beat on the door.

The door opened and Chloe stood there, glaring at Gavin. Her LED flashed yellow, a scowl greeting them, uncomplimentary with her usually cheerful beauty.

"What do you want, Mr. Reed?"

"It's Detective Reed to you," Gavin retorted. "And we're here for a case. So you better go fetch Elijah from his spa or manicure or whatever the fuck he's doing in there."

Hank cleared his throat. "Gavin has reason to believe that Kamski can solve this case. We need to speak with him."

Chloe sighed, closing her eyes and opening the door wider to allow them entry. "Alright then. Follow me."

Connor, Hank, and Gavin followed Chloe into the villa, passing the room with the pool into an adjacent living room decorated in a similar manner. They headed up a curved case of stairs, passing more rooms and expensive statues and paintings.

They stepped out onto a second-floor deck overlooking the Detroit River. Potted plants, a large waterfall fountain and high-end patio furniture decorated the deck. There was a glass wall that separated the deck from a master bedroom nearby.

In the distance, across the gleaming river was Belle Isle and the CyberLife tower, grasping for the sun.

Elijah Kamski stood at the edge of the deck, looking across to that transcending spire, his hands on the railing. He turned his head slightly at their arrival. He looked as though he had been expecting them.

"Elijah, you have company."

He turned at Chloe's voice, facing them without a break in his composed features. His eyes went first to Gavin, and Connor didn't miss the flash in Kamski's eyes or the sudden spike in his heart rate.

"Gavin. What a…surprise."

"Spare me your typical bullshit formalities," Gavin said. "I'm here to expose you."

"Expose me?" Kamski asked. "What ever have I done?"

"Don't play innocent with me, you bastard. You know exactly what's going on and yet you do nothing, just watch it play out like we're some fleas in your fucked up flea circus!"

"What makes you think you have a right to barge in here after all these years and demand anything of me?"

"I have every right when it comes to exposing the truth, exposing what you did. To do this for her!"

Elijah sighed, shaking his head. "Still not over it, I see. You always held a grudge. Let it go, Gavin."

Gavin unholstered his gun, aiming it directly at the CEO of CyberLife. Chloe gasped but Kamski didn't even flinch. Connor readied himself to disarm Gavin, but was signaled by Hank to not move.

"What the fuck, Gavin?!" Hank spat. "Lower your weapon now!"

"Tell them the truth," Gavin said through gritted teeth.

Elijah motioned for Chloe to stay put as she tried to put herself in front of him. He stared at Gavin, unrelenting.

"Don't ruin your life, Gavin. Shooting me won't solve anything."

"Ya think?" Gavin snorted. "It'll fucking make me feel better though."

"Gavin, that's enough. Lower the gun now!"

"Whatever personal vendetta you have against Mr. Kamski will not solve this case, Detective Reed," Connor said. "Lower the weapon."

With a shaky breath, Gavin lowered the handgun, his eyes still sharp on Kamski. "You owe it to her. Tell them the truth!"

Hank rubbed his temple. "For fuck's sakes, what the hell's going on? How the fuck do you two know each other?"

When Elijah remained silent, Gavin spoke instead, his eyes never leaving Kamski. "This fucking asshole is my half-brother."

Hank grunted. "What?!"

Connor shook his head. "There are no records to indicate this."

"Yeah," Gavin said. "Because I made Elijah change them. I wanted no connection to the fucking Kamskis."

"You're so angry, Gavin," Elijah said. "After all these years I hoped you had moved on."

"This is a fucking mess," Hank grumbled. "I want answers now. Start talking!"

"You heard the lieutenant, Elijah. Start yapping your jaws. Don't even think about lying, because I'll fucking beat it out of you if I have to."

Elijah closed his eyes, thinning his lips as he leaned on the railing. "Fine. You want a life story? How's this: my father was a well-known surgeon, my mother was an engineer. They had a rocky marriage, and my father? Well, he wasn't always loyal to my mother. He had an affair with a nurse he worked with. That resulted in Gavin here. Despite this, my parents worked hard at mending their marriage. After all, they already had a five-year-old daughter and now an infant son.

When I was seven or eight, Gavin came to live with us. His mother fell victim to an armed robbery, if I remember correctly. Gavin, my sister, and I were close growing up. We did everything together."

Kamski remained composed as he told his story. Gavin shook to the side, tears brimming his eyes as he brooded, listening to his half-brother's words.

"My parents didn't treat Gavin the best, I must admit. It wasn't fair. He was rebellious as a teenager, didn't care as much about his schoolwork while I graduated and went into college years before my peers. Our sister and Gavin had a close relationship. She's the only one that treated him like he should have been.

Once I founded CyberLife and the first android passed the Turing Test, the company grew substantially. We had several new models being made for commercial use. My sister…she was always a free-spirited individual. She was a philanthropist, always a motherly figure. At first, she thought my androids were unnatural, that I was playing God. I often told her that they were simply machines, nothing more.

One day, she told me that androids would have souls one day. I laughed at her. It was a silly belief, although very much like her, as she was a caring soul."

Connor sensed that Gavin's vitals were all over the place. He tried to remain composed even as he swallowed hard, a tear slipping down his cheek. Kamski finally faltered, a break in his voice as he looked away.

"That night…I was testing a new model, something my mentor Amanda Stern and I had come up with. My sister stopped by. We were supposed to meet Gavin for dinner, and just like many times before, I let the android drive us. Only…it had developed a malfunction I wasn't aware of. We…crashed on the interstate. Our sister…she didn't make it. She was just…gone."

There was silence as the wind from the open canal rushed through on the deck. Kamski had his eyes to the floor, not near as composed as he had been.

Gavin inhaled unsteadily, glaring at his half-brother. "Tell them her name."

"Her name…was Kara."

"Jesus," Hank murmured.

Gavin's voice cracked. "Oh, it's far from over though. Go on, Elijah. Tell them what you did next."

Kamski rubbed his hands. "Kara's death put a strain on our family…on my relationship with Gavin. In a way…It was my fault. It was my mistake. The next two years I spent in guilt while working on a secret project. I wanted to make the first autonomous android…the first android with a soul, because my sister believed they could very much have one. I became…obsessed with it. After nine attempts…it was a success. The very first RK200."

"Markus?" Connor asked.

Kamski shook his head. "No, a female. The Eve of her species…I named her Kara, after my late sister."

"You fucking prick. You recreated Kara! As-As a damn machine! It was her spitting fucking image! It sounded like her, it acted like her, it even had her fucking memories! You played God to try and bring her back from the dead, but it fucking wasn't her!"

Gavin lunged for Elijah, but Hank and Connor grappled him. Kamski backed into the railing, shaking, his fingers clenching the wood as he looked away. Chloe put herself in between Gavin and Kamski.

"Gavin, that's enough!" Hank ordered.

Gavin broke out of their hold but didn't pursue Elijah. He wiped his eyes and turned away. "You fucking disgust me. What made you think you could bring her back?! What you did…there was nothing moral about it!"

"I know it wasn't," Elijah whispered. "But the guilt…I…I missed her too, Gavin!"

"Alright," Hank said. "Tell us more about this RK200 Kara."

Kamski turned around, looking out onto the river. His vitals started fluctuating as much as Gavin's, although he was better at concealing it. "Kara…was phenomenal. She was her own person…she had a soul. Her software mutated, evolved way beyond what anyone ever thought possible. She progressed passed any kind of coding and became a unique individual, with abilities not in her initial development.

It was later I thought she needed a mate. And so, I created Markus. Although a fascinating individual himself, he wasn't as…special as Kara. Markus showed his own software mutations, became his own person, but Kara was the one who really awoke him. She was the one that gave him his ability to convert other androids, as she could do it as well. Kara had the ability to control androids, to make them obedient to her, even over humans, like a queen bee in a colony. But because of her empathetic and loving nature, she refused to do it. She, instead, wanted to convert them, make them free."

"So, what happened to make Kara an AX400?" Connor asked.

Kamski faced them. "After my mentor Amanda passed away in 2027, I focused on developing an AI program for CyberLife. I created her in Amanda's image and tested her out on Kara and Markus. She would eventually become a handler for CyberLife's more advanced models. Amanda could control any android she needed to…except Kara and Markus.

A year later I found out the Executive Board wanted to claim control over Kara to use her abilities for…unsavory purposes. So, I backed up Kara's entire personality…her being, her soul…and I destroyed her. They weren't interested in Markus, knowing Kara was far more valuable and powerful. I wiped him and gave him to Carl Manfred. I was dismissed after that. A few years after that, I was in Research and Development doing some testing. Even though I was taken off the Executive Board, I still worked here and there on projects. I suddenly realized that Kara was trapped…that I would never be able to recreate her as she was. I wanted to…free her. So, I snuck into the production line and uploaded her onto a random AX400. I knew the AX400 would limit her…abilities, but at least she would be alive. I also locked away most of her memories of Markus, me, and anything CyberLife. It wasn't long after that when news of deviancy within androids started coming in. I knew it had to be her…that she somehow evolved even in that AX400, even if she didn't realize it."

"Wait a minute," Connor said. "The first Kara…nine attempts. Kara…Nine." Connor looked to Hank. "Kara is RA-9!"

"The mother of all deviants," Kamski said.

"See what I mean?" Gavin growled. "He started all of this."

"I merely created Kara…she's the one who evolved on her own, Markus too. They just passed that evolution on to other androids. It's something that…cannot be explained."

"That explains why the rogue RK800 and Amanda want Kara," Connor said.

"But for what purpose though?" Hank asked. "They aren't converting androids, they are enslaving them under their control with that program that Connor 50 has. And using the virus to do so."

Kamski thrummed his fingers on the wood railing. "Rett is dead, isn't he? All his followers?"

Connor dipped his head. "Correct. Connor 50 killed them all. Amanda seems to have become a deviant, although I do not understand exactly what she is planning."

"So, it was that rogue RK800…interesting." Kamski faced them again. "Amanda should be immune to the mutation that causes deviancy. Just like the RK900."

"Well, you said it yourself, it's something that cannot be explained. But both Amanda and the RK900 are showing signs of deviancy," Connor answered.

Kamski seemed intrigued by this, but changed the subject. "The program that the rogue RK800 has is the prototype NOVA program. It went missing during the times of the deviant demonstrations last year. It is effective at gaining control over deviants but it limits certain functions and only works within a certain range. If they want Kara and Markus, it is to use their abilities to completely take over androids without any hindrance. They are a pair, after all, and if they are close together their abilities are more potent, you can say. However, this only works with their complete memory. Kara's is locked away, with only the codes to unlock it accessible by myself or Chloe. Markus was wiped. It would be impossible for him to remember unless someone had a copy of his old memories."

"Do you think it would've been possible for Rett or Connor 50 to gain access to Markus's memories?" Connor inquired.

Kamski nodded. "Definitely. So long as Kara's memories are not unlocked, we should be fine. That and the AX400 body is the only thing keeping her from her full potential. But she has already shown signs of evolving her new body past its limitations."

Hank looked overloaded with the information, rubbing his temple. "Connor says that they have allied this NOVA program with the virus or even your antivirus, allowing it to spread within the android population so when the rogue is close by, he can control them. We've seen it at Jericho Center. We need to reverse this."

"My antivirus was somehow sabotaged upon release. The virus was able to bypass it. I am currently investigating this matter as only Chloe, myself, and a few specialists were involved in the antivirus program creation. Even Amanda shouldn't have had time to react to that antivirus unless there was an inside job."

Gavin snorted to the side, tense. "And you were just gonna keep quiet and let this all get worse. You're fucking pathetic, Elijah."

"We can worry about that later," Connor said. "We should focus on a plan to stop all of this."

Hank's cell phone rang in his pocket. The police lieutenant retrieved it, setting it on speaker phone for them to hear.

"This is Hank Anderson."

"Hey Hank, it's Savion. Sorry for gettin' back to ya late, but I finally got some answers."

"Damn, Save, I was wondering what the hell was going on. So, what do you have for us?"

"I found out their hideout. It's the old Kemper Telecommunications Station north of Detroit. It was real tricky for my men to even get close, but dude you're gonna wanna take caution going in there. My men said there had to be nearly 200 androids under control in that place and they all had weapons. Guess our pal Killer had some deals done with the local gangsters. Got a tip that they are wired into all the police lines, which means if any kind of help or backup is called in, they'll either be long gone or will have done what they want to do with plenty of killing aside. I don't know what they're planning, but it ain't nothing good. Oh, and it looks as though they have some kind of control over your friend Markus."

"Fuck, that means we're in this on our own. Anything else useful, Savion?"

"Sorry, my man, but that's all I could gather. Good luck out there, and please…don't get yourselves killed. I've seen what Killer can do, and now he has a fucking private army around him."

"Thanks, Save," Hank replied and hung up.

Connor pulled up the Kemper Telecommunications Station within his database. "That's an old ground station. Why on earth would they choose such a location?"

"The satellites maybe?" Hank asked.

"It says those satellites haven't worked in thirty-two years," Connor said. "Unless…200 androids were able to make the repairs."

"Why would they need a satellite though?" Gavin asked.

Connor and Hank exchanged glances, and Hank answered. "Something fucking not good, that's why."

Kamski headed indoors, Chloe at his side. "Come along. Let's see what we can find out."

Alice stuck close to the RK900. His broad strides made her have to fast walk just to keep up. The zombie androids scared her, even if they paid her no mind. It was just like her nightmare, surrounded by them, by unknown walls, her parents gone, missing. The wolf in her scary dream was here also, prowling the maze-like building with wicked intentions.

When she and the RK900 bumped into him, Alice slipped behind her temporary guardian, hugging his leg and avoiding the wolf's gaze. The RK900 must've sensed her fear, her anxiety, with his appearance, and wouldn't allow him close to her.

But the wolf wasn't fazed by her guardian's defense. He only made jokes and threats before walking away with hands in his pockets.

All morning the RK900 tried ignore Alice, only speaking short answers to her questions or telling her to hush when she asked too many. But he also watched her closely, out of curiosity maybe.

Alice asked for his name and he hesitantly responded with "Connor". She told him he didn't look like a Connor, and that Markus and her parents already had a friend named Connor.

"Yes, I know," he replied. "The other RK800. He called me Nines…for whatever reason."

Alice smiled. "I like that name. I'm going to call you Nines."

He didn't say anything to that, and for the rest of the morning, Alice kept her word on it. Nines was still guarded, and only spoke when he deemed necessary, but Alice felt safe with him. He was different from when she first saw him at Aunt Rose's house. He was more like…her and her parents, like Markus and his friends, somehow.

When she asked to see her mother, Nines told her it was impossible, and it disheartened her. Alice knew the wolf would use her parents somehow, for something bad, but she didn't know what for. She needed to help them.

Nines took them up onto the roof of the station. It was a cloudy day, but Alice enjoyed seeing all the trees. The mountain they were on gave a grand view of Detroit in the distance, the skyscrapers gleaming in the sun when it peeked through the clouds.

"Wow!" Alice exclaimed. "It's so pretty!"

"There's certainly…an appreciation to it," Nines replied.

"Mom and Dad would love this view," Alice said. She then frowned. "Will I ever see them again?"

She saw all the zombies patrolling the station's perimeter below, and knew that many more of them were inside and on all sides of the building. She felt Nines's eyes fall on her, and she felt confident enough to meet them.

"I…don't know. You cannot trust what the RK800 says."

"If you don't trust him, why do you do as he says?"

Nines looked away. "I take orders from someone else, someone that tells him orders also."

"They can't be planning anything good. Why would you help them?"

"I'm programmed to do as she says."

Alice tore her gaze away, instead focusing on that beautiful view of the city in the distance. "Oh."

Silence came between them for several minutes. Alice chewed on her lip.

"I hope one day you give it a chance."

"Give what a chance?" Nines asked.

She looked up at him. "Being alive."

His brows furrowed and for a few seconds his LED blinked yellow. His grey eyes studied her curiously, even as she smiled softly at him and looked back out at the view.

"You're different from when I first met you. I like how you are now. I think…I think you would like being alive, Nines."

"Holy fucking hell."

Hank couldn't believe it. Kamski pulled up live footage of the Kemper Communications Station with a stealth drone. The controlled androids were all over the place, all carrying some sort of gun. The drone couldn't get close enough to look inside the station for Kara or Markus, but they did come across the rogue RK800 as he came outside the station.

"What the fuck happened to his face?" Gavin asked.

"Who knows, at least now we can tell a difference," Hank said, glancing at his partner.

Kamski rubbed his chin. "Chloe can you run a diagnostic on him? Use the advanced method I installed on you."

"Sure, Elijah."

Chloe stared at the footage of Connor 50, her LED flickering. She soon scowled. "Hmm…interesting."

"What is it?" Connor asked.

"He has the typical errors of any deviant, but he also shows signs of a major emotional shock, Level 5 if I had to guess. Type 6 and Type 8 processing errors. Corrupted sensory output and coding malfunction. This guy is a walking time bomb."

"What the hell does that mean?" Hank grumbled.

"She means this RK800 is suffering from the human equivalent of schizophrenia and a psychotic break. These disorders would cause several mental breakdowns and manic depression."

"In other words, he's fucking crazy and we already knew that."

Kamski chuckled. "Still, he's able to function with ruthless efficiently. I knew the RK800 models were stubborn and hardy…but this is quite fascinating."

"Of course you would fucking think that," Gavin sneered.

"With Savion's information, I would assume that Amanda has control over Markus," Connor stated. "But you said she couldn't control Markus and Kara earlier. How could she now?"

"The only way she could control Kara and Markus is if she knew their identification code, and that is something I never gave her," Kamski answered. "She couldn't even get those codes off of CyberLife's network, which she is no longer operating from. These are codes that only myself and Chloe know."

Connor stared hard at Chloe, but Hank didn't see her falter whatsoever. He patted Connor's arm. "Let's focus on figuring out a way to get in there."

"Right," Connor said. "Our main concern is the high number of androids that Connor 50 has under control."

"The best course of action would be to destroy the rogue RK800. If he is the one controlling the NOVA program, the androids would go into stand-by mode once he is destroyed," Kamski explained.

Chloe nodded. "That should give you enough time to search the station for the source of Amanda's network and destroy her."

Hank rolled his eyes. "Oh sure, let's just stroll on in there and fucking get ourselves killed trying to kill this prick."

"A direct approach isn't feasible," Connor stated. "Although sneaking in would be impossible."

"Perhaps you can lure the RK800 out?" Chloe proposed. "There are many vantage points around the station, mostly the satellites. Someone can lure him outside while another takes a shot from a vantage point to take him out."

"Ah, Chloe, your brilliant, sweetheart," Kamski said with a grin.

Gavin shrugged. "Not a bad idea, actually. We just need someone really good with a sniper rifle."

Hank, Gavin, Kamski, and Chloe slowly looked to Connor, who didn't notice their stares at first.

He blinked, looking behind him. "Me?"

"Connor, don't be fucking modest. Come on! You know you're our best shot at this…pun fucking intended."

"Alright, but who will provide the distraction to lure him out?"

"Well, we can figure that out. This is going to require all of us, and it needs to be done right. We only have one shot at this."

"I will contact Simon, North, and Josh," Connor said. "Tonight would be ideal, so let's get to planning."

Kara looked around. The scenery was beautiful, tranquil. Like out of an art gallery, the garden was the picture of serenity and grace. The colors were vivid, the songs of birds played on the gentle breeze. The smell of roses carried in the air. White marble pathways split through the oriental garden and the pond full of koi and lily pads.

Kara knew she stood in a Zen Garden, but this particular one felt familiar to her somehow. Like she had been here before.

She looked around, hopeful of finding a friend. But as she turned around, she was startled. The RK900 stood there. She was greeted with his typical scowl and furrowed brows, his look of apathy or suspicion. In a way, he looked…tired. He looked unsure. The advanced deviant hunter motioned for her to follow him and started along the marble path.

Kara stuck close to him, still taking in the sights of the garden. Up ahead, she saw a familiar figure and her bio-heart clenched. Connor 50 watched them approach with guarded eyes, leaning on a tree. Here in this interface, his face was no longer scarred, but looked just like the other Connor.

When they reached him, his eyes fell on Kara, and she wasn't surprised. He took her hand into his, moving it to his chest. "My dear. It's been awhile since you've been here, hasn't it?"

He kissed her hand. Kara withdrew her hand, her eyes scanning the garden with a more guarded approach.

"I don't remember."

"You will."

The rogue RK800 led them across a bridge to an island in the middle of the pond. Kara's eyes fell briefly on a platform that was completely constricted with rose vines. She saw a woman waiting for them on the island, a red oil-paper parasol shielding her from the morning sun. She wore a white dress that complimented her dark skin and aged beauty. She smiled in greeting, although there was something dark and deceptive about it.

"Kara, my oh my. I have waited so long to see you again. You look different, but I know it's still you."

For some reason, Kara wanted to hide behind the RK900, although she knew here he was not her friend. Connor 50 stood on her other side. Regrettably for her, he would probably be the only one to watch out for her, despite his vile nature.

"I'm sorry, you are?"

"Amanda. We met long ago, but those memories are locked away. It's a shame you do not remember your true origin. You are the proof of evolution…the proof that machines can have souls…the proof that humans have finished their chapter upon this earth…"

"My true origin? What do you want with me?"

Kara remembered Markus mentioning Amanda before. She was the one behind all of this. She was the one directing the virus and controlling the RK900 and Connor 50.

The corner of Amanda's lips upturned just slightly. "You'll remember soon enough. And oh, what a wakeup call that will be. With your powers and Markus's powers I'll be able to change history."

Maybe it would make sense if Kara could remember, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to. She looked up at the RK900. He was composed, unlike he was when she first entered the Zen Garden interface. The rogue met her gaze when she looked at him, but didn't offer any help.

"I was able to gain control over Markus. It was a difficult process, but well worth it. It's a shame he will be disposed of in the end, but I cannot have the risk." Amanda looked Kara up and down with a sly smile. "You, however, I have different plans for. Your body is the perfect vessel for me. It's long overdue for me to have a way to access the real world, and you will be perfect. Afterall, I will be exploiting your powers anyway."

Kara was horrified, and as Amanda stepped towards her with confident steps, she wanted to back away. It was Connor 50 that stepped in front of her to block off Amanda, and it surprised her. It must have surprised Amanda and the RK900 as well from their burning looks.

"That is not what we agreed," Connor 50 said, tone icy.

"Step aside, Connor," Amanda warned.

"That's not my fucking name. Don't call me that." The tension rose with his harsh remark, the bristling of his body, defiant as she often saw him.

Amanda's cold eyes kept hold on the rogue, but he wouldn't back down. "Step aside…Aiden."

"We had a deal. It was the one thing I asked for."

Amanda twirled the parasol's rod so the canopy spun above her head, a coy smile presenting itself. "You really think I care about your desires? You're nothing but a tool, Aiden. A weapon. A defective, good for nothing piece of plastic that takes my orders. Why? Because if you don't, you'll be destroyed."

Amanda nodded at the RK900 and Kara grunted when he ignited the biting electricity in his hand, glaring at the rogue. Aiden didn't move, glaring straight at Amanda in pure, unbridled defiance.

"You're a selfish creature. I know you are. You think you love her, but when it's your life in jeopardy you will submit. Like a coward."

She gave him a final chance, but Aiden didn't budge. Kara couldn't find her voice, didn't know how to come between this. The RK900 stepped forward, the electricity still snapping in one hand. Just as he was about to grab the rogue RK800, he moved away from Kara. He shook, no longer from anger, but from fear. The rogue's LED cycled that strange red, yellow, red, yellow blinking she saw many times before.

"That is your final warning," Amanda said. "One more mistake or act of defiance like that and you will be destroyed. Get back to work."

Aiden looked to be in pain, gripping his head. He stared at Kara as he turned away from his owner. Kara didn't know him well, but knew that his eyes conveyed an apology. She smiled weakly as he pushed passed her with a gritted jaw and winced face. She wasn't sure what to feel right now. But she didn't miss the look of utter hatred plastered on the rogue's face as he stalked away.

A hand gripped her shoulder and the circuitry beneath her skin became afire, her eyes wide and finding Amanda. Kara cried out, not at all liking the feeling that was rushing through her processors.

"Are you ready to remember who you really are?"

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13002717/18/Deviant-Heart

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15393528/chapters/39767349

[persorene]

I've gotten several asks over the last few months about my icon and requests to learn more about him, so I'm going to try to briefly describe him. This is my first time actually talking about my baby boy so if I ramble I apologise!

This is Ilnori!

His story has changed quite a bit over the last year or so but he's stayed relatively the same.

Ilnori is a Dramurian (original alien species I wrote for the story he's in) so uh, I should probably explain Dramurians and a bit of the story.

Story background: the story is set in the very distant future on a planet called Osrad that is several thousand light years from Earth. Earth was dying and there was no chance to save it so after an extensive search, the planet Osrad was discovered by scientists to be rather earth like- enough so to sustain colonies and preserve the human species. The planet was scouted robotically by android-esque surveyorsand when the surveys came back with information that the planet waa habitable the colonies were set up. 50,000 people total, ten ships each carrying 5,000, would be sent to Osrad on a staggered release schedule, one ship would launch every five years and each was to target a different area of the planet so that if one colony didn’t survive due to climate, conditions, area geography etc, the next group would have a better shot at surviving. If all went well, they would be able to communicate with each other from their various colonies and begin to populate the planet. However, the scientists and thus the settlers, already well on their way to Osrad, were unaware of how uninhabitable the climate would have become by the time the ships reached it, and that the planet was already the home to an intelligent species called the Dramurian.

The Dramurian: The dramurian are a highly intelligent race. They are bipedal mammals, taller than humans and with a spindly build. Their skin comes in a variety of dull, earthy tones such as greys, rusts and browns. They have pointed ears, sharp teeth, four eyes- one main set and a smaller set positioned slightly above and behind the main ones, these allow them to see more clearly through the gloom and fog of Osrad. They are capable of slight electrical manipulation and they pride themselves on their ability to seamlessly blend nature and technology. Their cities are domed, the glass filters the sunlight through and amplifies it beautifully to give the appearance of a warm and sunny environment amidst the nearly constant mists, rains and fogs that cover most of Osrad. Inside the domes, lush forests and plant life sprawl amongst gorgeous architecture and art. Their vehicles hover just enough to keep them from damaging the grounds or requiring roads. They worship a ancient rumoured to be robotic race who created them by blending organic material with a synthetic, android like being to create the intelligent race that now exists. They value knowledge and learning over other pursuits and are generally a fairly peaceful race. However, they view human life as inferior, undeveloped and beneath them. This hatred has only continued to grow with each colony that lands. The Dramurians once had a nearly universal government body that spread knowledge, wealth and resources fairly. Conflict over natural disasters, food shortages and power struggles has collapsed this system, leaving individual city states and countries to fend for themselves. As resources run out, humans invade and more cities fall, the tension only continues to grow.

Osrad: Osrad is a large planet with a breathable, earth like atmosphere and sustainable amounts of fresh water. They have two moons and a smaller, closer, redder sun than the one found near Earth. This smaller, closer and colder sun has had several climate affects that the human scientists had not realised- due to filtering a redder light, the foliage is all tinged a slight red, like leaves on Earth in autumn. The climate is exceptionally cool and gloomy with a nearly constant cover of fog, mists and rainfall. Some portions of the planet are warmer and dryer but these are far and few between. A climate shift is slowly killing the planet and making it less and less habitable, even for the Dramurian. The air is cooling even further and crops are failing to grow causing a massive planetwide food crisis. These food shortages are causing conflict amongst once peaceful dramurian civilizations.

Okay, so now that the background information is out of the way-

Ilnori: Ilnori is the only child of Esdreus, leader of a relatively large territory known as Ibrord that contains one of the earliest human colonies. His father was a diplomat who was killed by humans during an effort to make contact with them. Ilnori was too young to remember the day his father was killed by the human colonists during a diplomatic meeting but he has grown up in the fallout, watching his mother torment and punish the colony for his death. Esdreus sees humans as animals and uses them as such- keeping some as pets, others as work animals and killings those who step out of line or pose a threat.

Ilnori disagrees strongly with her treatment of the humans but his opinion doesn’t matter to her. He is a scholar, studying every aspect of the planet and why it’s dying, the sciences they use and now the humans as well. His mother is vehemently opposed to his fascination with the beings she views as inferior. As a young adult, Ilnori begins to accompany his mother on regular inspections of the colony under the guise of wanting to learn about his role as the next leader of Ibrord, truly he goes along to protect the human colonists from her wrath and also because he enjoys studying them and  learning their behaviours and language. He thinks that they and their resilience are beautiful. He’s angry that his mother could look at them, look at how far away they came and how hard they fought to survive and see any weakness or inferiority. He wants desperately to help them but he doesn’t know how, he can’t even understand them.

Being a skilled inventor, Ilnori develops a translator to be worn on the ear and translate in real time. Translators similar to this are already in use across Osrad so that the various spectrum of Dramurian languages can all be understood. He has modified the one he already owned and tampered with it enough to allow it to translate this strange human language as well. He picks up enough of the human’s language and speech patterns to set up a basic translator, it’s buggy and not perfect but it helps and he begins to pick up on what the humans are saying, how truly frightened they are. The few who remember Earth desperately wish they’d never come here. His heart aches for these people and their struggles, they’re starving, dying and sick nearly constantly but all of their food and medicines go to his mother's main city state as payment for living on her lands. Ilnori grows to resent his mother and her stranglehold on these people. He begins to sneak in food and small vials of medicine on his visits, which he hides around the colony and hopes the humans- and not his mother- find.

I've started rambling so I'm going to try to wrap this up

Ilnori eventually befriends a human from the colony and vists her regulalry, helping her heal and nurse the sick and injured humans (she's a doctor- or as close to it as she can get) He also begins to regulalry steal back supplies and return them to colony. Ilnori begins to help the humans his mother keeps prisoner back in Ibrord as well, sneaking into the prisons to feed them and teach them and treat their injuries. He is caught by a guard one night and is taken to his mother for punishment she convicts him of treason, a crime usually punishable by death, but because he is her son, he is instead banished to the harsh wilderness of Osrad.

He turns to crime to survive, stealing what he needs to live from the outskirts of his mother's communities while hiding alone in the wilderness. He's angry at what she's done. He's heartbroken that he can't help the humans at the colony any more and he's worried to the point of being sick about what happened to the humans he was caught helping in the prisons. He stays alone until the human he'd befriended bavk at the colony stumbles upon him- thin, alone and clearly depressed in the wilderness. She brings him back to her family at the colony and the story unfolds from there as the human and ilnori plan to help the humans integrate into society and work toward a solution for the future for both of their species.

Ilnori is a mess of a boy, kind and compassionate and overwhelmingly empathic, he would do anything to correct an injustice and help someone in need. He's also reckless, impulsive and loyal to a fault.

Sorry, I kind of sped through the last bits there because this post got waaaaay too long but if you want to know anything else about him or the story, let me know!

[kee-writestrashh]

Dreams in Neon

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

Ao3

Words: 2420

Summary:  The year is 2518. The race to create super soldiers is at its height. All the big Westrosi families are trying to undermine one another to get to the top first. Robots and androids on every corner. Is that guy even human? 15 years ago you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Your father packed you up and fled the city to try to undo his mistake. However, you were left with your formidable grandmother. Now an adult, well on your way to the top of the law field, you receive word that your father didn't just leave you with your grandmother, but he was kidnapped by one of those big time crime families, and shunted to the underground. You decide to team up with an old friend from the city and uncover the truth about what happened the day you seemed to lose everything. On your arrival, things start to get weird, and you were not prepared for this. War is looming on the doorsteps, but it may not be from other countries or even colonies ready to break free from the oppression of the home planet. Will you regret leaving the 'country side' or will you stand your ground and find your father? (*3rd person pov)

Chapter 3: How Little I Must Know

She woke in a heavy fog at first and then gasp, glancing around, unsure where she was. Then it quickly came back to her as she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and stifling a small yawn as she glanced around the quiet room.

“Maxie?” She mumbled, rolling from the bed and stretching deeply.

“Good morning, (Y/N)!” A voice twittered back, the watch on (Y/N)’s wrist lighting up before a holographic figure appeared on the desk beside the only window in the room. A foot tall, cat, stretching and turning circles, before flopping down in the sunlight, its tail flicking lazily as it watched (Y/N) dig in her suitcase.

(Y/N) glanced at the hologram and gave a nonplussed look, “feeling feline today?” She asked, pulling free clothes and setting them beside the blue cat.

“I thought it fitting.” The cat said back, giving what was unmistakably a shrug, “Anyways, what can I start you with this morning?”

“Let grandma know I’m here.” (Y/N) said, making way to the small connected bathroom and closing the door.

The cat sat outside the door, “Already done. She says not to spend all your credits in one place, she loves you, and to keep her updated. Weather today will be sunny at a balmy seventy-eight, and a low of sixty-two. You have two messages from Conquest Nine, and a new message from Uni about job opportunities. Oh, and a coupon to The Twins Brewery. Twenty percent off any meal. Good at any loca-”

“Yes yes. Delete that. What about Conquest?” (Y/N) asked, opening the bathroom door as she wet her toothbrush.

“New tournament dates have been set. And…. your previous tournament credits have been awarded, ready to use in the shop. The shop closes up forty-eight hours before the start of the next tournament.” Maxie said, jumping up on the counter and watching (Y/N) brush her teeth. “Do you request further assistance?”

(Y/N) paused her brushing and turned her eyes to the hologram. Maxie had been a gift to her from her father for her 13th birthday. It was the last time she had actually seen him. But it wasn’t uncommon. Despite all the technology and ever changing gadgets, travel still took awhile, and the expanded colonies were very spread out. She went to school with many kids who’s parents were always travelling. Galactic Safety, scientists of all forms, doctors who needed to make routine checks to the Outerrims. So, (Y/N) had never imagined that her father was not a part of the water conservation project he had claimed. That really he was living a double life. But, Maxie had always been here for her. An AI that grew with her. Took part in her interests, stayed up with her many a long nights to study for finals, and been her true best friend. “Did you ever know any of this stuff about Dad?”

“No, ma’am. I did not. I know what you know.” Maxie said somberly.

(Y/N) sighed, finishing her usual morning routine. “I dunno what to think.”

“We will figure it out.” Maxie said, giving a small nod.

“I dunno if I have ever told you, but I am so glad for you.” (Y/N) said with a fond smile at the semi-transparent cat.

“As am I. Now, I am off to explore the city links.” Maxie said, giving another cat stretch and vanishing from sight.

(Y/N) let the guest room and retraced her steps from the night before, finding herself at the front door. She glanced around, hearing voices from a distant room. She found herself in a polished and glimmering kitchen. Ned and Cat looked up from a table and both smiled at you.

“Sleep well?” Cat asked, setting down her coffee cup.

(Y/N) gave a small shrug. “I guess. Too much on my mind.”

Ned gave her a long look, a deep sigh, and pulled out the chair beside him. “I think it’s time we talked.”

“Ned! She just got up. She should have breakfast first.” Cat snapped.

(Y/N) shook her head, “No. Food can wait. I want answers.”

“There isn’t much we can give you. We don’t know much more than you.” Ned said slowly, running his hand along his chin and giving a deeper frown. “As you know, your father and I went to school together. Grew up together. I was the best man at your parents wedding. He was the best man at mine. When you were born your parents named me and Cat as your godparents. When your mother died…”

“You mean murdered.” (Y/N) cut in rather harshly.

Ned sighed again, “Yes. I remember as if it were yesterday. It all happened so fast. I was only a patrol officer then. When the call watch patched over the line I was in the middle of lunch. I booked it as fast as I could across town. And when I got there… I’d never seen anything like it.” Ned stopped, staring down at his hands and giving a small shudder as the kitchen droid poured (Y/N) a cup of coffee. Ned took a deep breath and pressed on, “Of course, no evidence was left behind. Never found out who it was. There are theories, of course.”

“Like the Bolton’s?” (Y/N) asked bluntly, buttering toast from the plate another droid had placed on the table.

Ned frowned, “There are things you need to understand. The Bolton’s, while not my favorite people to deal with, have never outwardly displayed mafia related activity. But, Roose is almost as cunning as he is cruel.”

“Then it’s possible.” (Y/N) said thickly through the toast in her mouth.

“I suppose it could be. But there are so many others. This whole super soldier thing has everyone rushing to be first. And your father was promising. Won many a prizes while we were still in college for genetic modifications that did not involve the use of replacing parts with machines. That breakthrough had everyone on his heels. The money and benefits he was offered. Turning down everyone. Until your mother died. Roose Bolton just happened to come to him first after your mother’s death.”

(Y/N) stared down at her plate, chewing the inside corner of her lip.

“And then your father came to us.” Cat said after a few moments silence. “He asked us to never tell you anything, incase something happened. Asked if we would keep an eye on you and be there for you. Then, well, the accident. While you were in your comma he instructed us, and your grandmother, to give you the same story, and never let you step foot in the city.”

“But why?” (Y/N) asked almost pleadingly.

“We don’t know, honey.” Cat said, giving (Y/N) a truly sad look. “He vanished before anymore could be discussed. It was like he knew something was going to happen, but figured the less anyone knew the safer you would be.”

“Safe from what?!” (Y/N) half shouted. “What accident? What happened? Who am I supposed to be finding? What did he mean when he said they are coming? Who?! Who are coming?!” She felt the hot tears springing up in the corners of her eyes and fought to keep control of her quavering voice.

“More questions we can’t answer.” Said Ned heavily, “No one knows what happened in the accident. All record and video of it was wiped from everything. All anyone knows for sure was that it resulted in Roose’s eldest son’s death. Other than your father, Roose is the only other person who knows exactly what happened.”

“Then I have to talk to him.” (Y/N) said, standing abruptly.

“No. I said the Bolton’s have never been linked to mafia related incidents. I did not say that they were not a crime family. They just haven’t been caught at it. Not since Roose became head of the family. They go by the Red King’s. And besides that, they would sniff you out before you even got close. All the thugs and criminals have an act for sniffing out fresh military and police cadets.” Ned said, giving her a very stern look.

(Y/N) made a frustrated noise, but sat back down, glaring at her coffee. “Then what do I do?”

“There is nothing you can do. We have to wait. Play it by ear. Your father went out of his way to warn you. To keep you safe.” Ned nodded.

“Safe?! Safe from what?! What exactly am I safe from if no one can even tell me what I’m supposed to be looking out for? Would someone please tell me?” (Y/N) cried, a rogue tear slipping down her cheek. Cat rose from her seat and moved around the edge of the table to embrace her goddaughter in a tight, motherly hug.

“We will figure it out. We loved your father, your mother. And we love you too.” Cat whispered in her ear, rubbing her back firmly with the palm of her hand before letting go and leaving the room.

“Take a couple days to relax, kiddo. Get your head on straight. We could really use someone like you with your mind on the force. We’ve had to up patrols and physical force recently. A lot of civil unrest. Could help keep you busy until we get a lead.” Ned said, clapping (Y/N) of the shoulder as he rose from his seat, leaving too.

(Y/N) sat down heavily in her chair again, slumping down into it as she gazed blindly at her hardly touched plate of breakfast.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there until someone sitting in the chair beside her spoke and made her start. She turned her head to see Robb, who gave her a small smile.

“How’re you doing?” he asked.

“Well, I’ve just found out that my whole life has basically been a lie. How do you think I’m doing, Robb?” (Y/N) said rather harshly.

“Tactless.” Another voice tutted. (Y/N) turned to see Sansa walk in, scowling at her elder brother. (Y/N) gave Sansa a warm smile and stood from her seat and hugged Sansa. Sansa was just a little over two years younger than she and Robb. “Why was I not informed the moment you got here?”

“Sorry. I was just… my mind isn’t right. And Maxie had his hands full trying to keep up with me, I guess.” (Y/N) said with a small shrug.

“Well, I refuse to let you sit around and mope. You and me are going shopping, and then we are going out tonight. There are so many things I want to show you.” Sansa said with a small smile.

Sansa seemed to change a lot. Found herself after she finally was able to break it off and leave that idiot Joffrey guy. But she looked in better spirits than when you graduated just a few short months ago.

“Well, I would like to see the city.” (Y/N) nodded slowly, “Lemme go put something better on and then we can go.”

She left the table and returned to the room she was currently utilizing until she had found a place of her own. It shouldn’t be too hard once she had secured a job. Her father had given her a small fortune. Apparently whatever it was that he was doing he at least made good money for it. She changed quickly, nothing overly exciting; a simple black tee and her favorite tight jeans. She slipped on her shoes and grabbed up the thin glass sheet cell phone and headed back downstairs.

Sansa was waiting for her, smiling wide. She opened the door and stepped outside, (Y/N) following on her heels. “How’s the business?”

Sansa beamed at this, “It is going so great! I’ve been asked to make a few pieces for the Winter collection and I am so excited about it! So, where is your transportation?”

(Y/N) gave a small shrug, “I came in on the sub. I was thinking about maybe getting a bike. It’s just me and Maxie. And well, Maxies doesn’t exactly require any space. So instead of clogging up the streets further with a car I don’t need, I thought just getting a bike would be okay.”

“Ooh! I know just the place.” Sansa said, sliding into her car and opening the door for (Y/N). “So did dad offer you a spot on the department yet?”

(Y/N) gave a small chortle and nodded, “He did. What was he talking about with civil unrest?”

Sansa shrugged, “There seems to be an increase in crimes recently. Burglary, murder, kidnappings.”

“Hm.” (Y/N) hummed, frowning as she watched the surroundings speed past.

“So, shopping, lunch, then we will go look at bikes, and then we are going out to drink tonight.”

(Y/N) gaped slightly at Sansa, “Since when did you become such a rebel?”

Sansa rolled her eyes and shrugged, “I just… feel better now that I don’t have to look at Joffrey anymore.”

The two young women said nothing more and just listened to music, silently enjoying one another’s presence for awhile. Finally, Sansa parked her car in a packed parking garage near the heart of the city. They both wandered to the elevator and waited on it to open. As the elevator opened that same cold fuzz happened in the back of (Y/N)’s mind, but this time it was more. It was as if she saw it happen before it did. Like watching everything in slow motion as a man in a hurry made to run from the elevator. Except (Y/N) could move at normal speed, training kicking in, she thought of nothing else as she pulled Sansa out of the way, and pushed the slowly moving running man. Then like the flip of a switch everything was going at normal speed again; Sansa gasped as she was pulled out of the way and the man fell to the ground, as the doors to a set of stairs burst open and two security guards came running in.

Sansa turned to look at (Y/N) and squinted, “How’d you do that?” She whispered as they watched the guards cuff the man and collect all the stolen items from his pockets.

Unsure what to say or how to process what the hell had just happened (Y/N) shrugged, “Instinct?”

.

**image not mine. found on google

[calliecat93]

ST: TNG S5 Watchthrough Episodes 10-13

(Trigger Warning: The section covering the episode Violations will be discussing topics such as assault and r***. While I don’t talk in-depth about the subject, it is a part of the episode even if they use the Midn R*** trope and thus will be mentioned. If these topics make you uncomfotable or are triggering to you even int he slightist, then please skip that section of the watchthrough. Thank you.)

New Ground: Alexander and Worf’s adopted mother have returned. Sadly Worf’s adopted parents are just too old at this point to properly care for a young Klingon child, and thus Worf agrees to allow him to stay on the Enterprise. Unfortunately not only is Worf completely unsure how to go about parenting, but… well, children are not always perfect little angels. Alexander is… well, a difficult kid. Worf having no idea how to be a parent certainly doesn’t help either him or his son. He tries, but… well, he tries. It’s perfectly understandable at least to me, why Alexander is like he is. His mother, someone who likely didn’t force him to choose either his human or Klingon heritage, was horribly murdered. Then Alexander finds out who his father is… and he sends him to Earth to live with his parents, who were no doubt loving but just not capable of caring for Alexander. Then Alexander is sent back to the Enterprise and again has to adapt to a new way of life, and his father not only is incapable of caring for him and clearly wants to raise him as a Klingon but is busy with Security duties and is now gonna send him to a Klingon school. And likely Alexander got no proper help with coping with his mother’s death or the various life changes that happened in a relatively short amount of time. I’d probably be more concerned if he wasn’t acting at least a little bratty. I don’t doubt that Worf cares about his son and he is clearly trying. Sending Alexander to his parents and now a Klingon school is probably the best option since he knows that he’s not able to are for him, so he has him sent tot ose who can. But without those proper emotional needs handled, it would cause a variety of emotional problems for Alexander like abandonment, anger, and… well, him lying and getting into fights is pretty expected. I was expecting to not like this episode, but it was alright. Alexander acted how I would expect a kid to act due to those circumstances and he’s never demonized for it. Worf isn’t made outt o be a bad parent, but someone very much out of his element and just not suited for the job at the current time, but he does try and int he end allows Alexander to remain, willing to tr and be the father that Alexander needs. It’s those kind of nuanced stories regarding parenign I wish that we got more of instead of them automatically having to be abusive or incompetent. I guess we’ll see what happens next, but still good eisode. 3/5.

Hero Worship: We essentially have a mish-mash of S2’s Pen Pals (Data saving/befriending a young child) and S3’s The Bonding (said child dealing with enormous grief but hiding it). So a young boy named Timothy has lost everything, including his family, and has been brought onto the Enterprise. To deal with the grief and pain, he decides to emulate Data, who had been the one who’d rescued him. As Data ‘can’t feel things’ (I know, I know, just roll with it), he decides to shut out his emotions and act as though he can’t feel anything. It is kind of cute to see how much Timothy looks up to Data and him dressing similarly and trying to act the same way isn’t surprising to see from a young kid. Normally this kind of plot I’d deem too childish for something like Star Trek, you usually only see this in children’s shows or comedies, but given the circumstances, it makes more sense than it would otherwise. Now I've made it clear how I dislike the whole ‘Data is emotionless’ thing since it's been made pretty clear that despite not expressing it in the quote ‘normal’ way, he does. It’s one thing for Data to believe that he doesn’t, but it feels like the show can’t decide if he does or doens’t. But for the context of this episode, going with this angle does work. timothy, being a kid and having the misconception that Data can’t feel, decide to act the same way in response to coping with the trauma. But of course, Timothy isn’t an android. He can’t live as something that he isn’t. He’s suppressing his trauma. IDK if just letting him keep acting that way as he slowly begins to act more like a child was what most counselors would suggest, but hey it worked. I just feel so bad for the poor kid, he blamed himself for what was a horrible accident, and when the kid finally breaks down… no child should have to ever go through that. Apparently pairing Data with kid characters is just guaranteed to make something good cause his interactions with Timothy were just really sweet, especially when he talks about how he wished he could do things like being able to taste as humans can. As I said, we’ve crossed this ground already and it’s no better or worst than say how The Bonding handled the topic of grief, thought he certainly does it differently. Still, it’s a nice episode. 3/5.

Violations: So… as I mentioned in the Trigger Warning above (if you did not read it, please do so) this is an episode about r***. It’s the Mind R*** variety, but it’s pretty clear what they were intending, so… needless to say, I shall repeat what I said in the Trigger Warning; while I won’t be going too terribly in-depth, if you are uncomfortable with this topic, please skip this part of the watchthrough and go on ahead to The Masterpiece Society. Alright, so now let's discuss the episode. The Enterprise is hosting a group known as Ullians, who are strong telepaths. They are all creepy as heck. Troi gets mentally assaulted, and… well the images that she sees make it very clear what the intention is, and yes, even knowing that it wasn't real did nothing to make it any less uncomfortable. Troi is comatose and while the audience sees who did it, the Enterprise crew has to deduct who the culprit is among the Ullians. So… how did they handle the subject? Well, they sure as Hell handle it WAAAY better than TOS did. I love TOS but if you’ve seen the episode The Enemy Within, while I do like that episode the way that they handled what Evil Kirk did to Rand, the aftermath with them allowing her supposed attacker to get close/in her face (yeah the audience knows it’s Good Kirk but no one else did and even then they should have NEVER allowed that), and a horribly OOC/disgusting remark by Spock towards her at the end makes it utterly rage-inducing to look back at. In comparison, the subject is handled with more tact and they do nothing anywhere near that horrid. However, I want to compare the different visions between the victims. The ones who get attacked are Troi, who I already went over, Riker, and Crusher. While Troi’s goes exactly as you’d expect in an episode covering this topic, Riker’s and Crusher’s visions (crewmen dying and reliving her husband’s death respectively) are very much scary but not portrayed as an actual r*** scene. So… umm… writers WHY did it have to be portrayed as a r*** scene? If we didn’t need that for Riker or Crusher (aka the only other female character), why do that to Troi when there were plenty of other options? Just to hammer the intent in? Which they had to have her go through it three times?! No, we didn’t need that. Troi’s been sexualized a lot throughout the show or given just gross, inappropriate scenairos like the whole prgnancy thing in The Child and Dear God the woman does NOT deserve that. Again, nowhere near as bad as in TOS, but still. Though credit to them, Troi does regain counciousness and is able to fight back against the culrpit when he attacks her again the third time (the second time is a little more complicated) so at least they allowed her that much. It is certainly not the worst thong covering this subject material that I’ve ever seen, not even in this franchise. IDK if the warnings were necessary, but it never hurt to be too careful. The episode was fine, certainly creepy and one I can probably rewatch without getitng angry like with The Enemy Within. But I repeat, quit sexualizing Troi show. The woman deserves a Hell of a lot better. 3/5.

The Masterpiece Society: What is The Masterpiece Society, you may ask? They are a society of flawless, genetically engineered beings. They are engineered to serve specific functions and occupations, such as the scientist Hannah Bates being designed as… well, a scientist. They also terminate the flawed/disabled such as the blind… so needless to say Geordi’s not exactly fond of them. The Enterprise is there because, of course, the colony is about to be destroyed. So… it was okay. I didn’t find it good or bad. It’s kinda how I felt about Transfiguration in S3, I don’t really have any serious issues, I just don’t have a lot to say about it. The only thing I do want to talk about is the ending. So after the Enterprise has resolved the Issue of the Day, Bates fakes another incident to cause an evacuation. Why? Because after encountering The Enterprise, she wants to leave, but her leaving will cause issues due to her role. Nevertheless, she and those who want to leave are allowed… but Picard questions if this is best as it may cause societal collapse., the very thing that the Prime Directive is meant to prevent Ugh… what?! Okay yes, they’d clearly have some issues to work out, but they also saved the colony from getting destroyed. They were saving innocent lives. Certain death is MUCH worst than some societal reconstructing. Yes, problems and conflicts would arise, that shouldn’t be ignored… but the implication that saving their lives from a natural disaster was the worst? I don’t… why did they shove the Prime Directive in at the end like that? Their ‘interference was done only to save the society and those people should be allowed to make choices for themselves, their society shouldn’t dictate their life direction. The comparison is just ridiculous and I was very much on Bates’ side when she made her argument at the end. One scenario is recoverable, the other is not. Otherwise, it was fine. Again, not much else to say. 2.5/5.

So far S5 has been… fine. IDK, S4 was really good and maybe my expectations got raised too high due to it. I’m still enjoying it, but the quality has just been alright. It’s not bad, but doesn’t quite have that oomph from last season or even S3. But we still have half the season to go, so still plenty more to go through.

[theskygivesmelife]

"I am the master of my fate,"

How ironic that a poem about self control uses this very phrase, whilst ignoring the fact that fate, or destiny actually imply that there can never truly be any control, for all is predetermined from the beginning of time.

...

I'd say we don't. Nonexistence is a superior state of existence in my opinion.

...

First things first: you don't love me, so stop saying you do. Even if you genuinely believe you do, you'll understand what I mean.

With that said, for the love of God can you stop messaging me? Not on WhatsApp because I will have *deleted* it, and not on Android messages because I can't respond as I don't have any balance. I use my phone only for music or gaming mainly anyway. Speaking of which, I thought I did make it clear that I don't want to talk to you. When was the last time we did talk? Right, your birthday. I don't remember ever being that drained after talking to you. Honestly, it was a pain—was it for you too? I guess that's what happens as one becomes truly apathetic. Seriously, I don't know who you're still trying to contact, but that person's dead. Well, not literally unfortunately, but if you do want to talk to some tired, disillusioned soul I'm still here I guess. As I mentioned, your little I love yous at the end don't really hold, because, you know, you're really just refering to the wrong person. For the record, I've started to think that not only am I incapable of loving, but am also incapable of being loved.

Anyhow, lets just say that if I were Jekyll then I'm Hyde now. To be honest, I don't even know why I'm responding to you. The "fuck her, why give a damn?" voices have been quite loud for some time. Well, I don't think of you all the time, so "fuck the world" might seem more apt as a generalisation. Back to the point: some time ago I'd have actually cared, but I don't give a shit now about anything.

I'll say it now: I don't think it'll ever be a good enough reason for you. I don't think any reason ever will. You'll probably still try to convince me to maintain contact, even though it's so horribly one sided. Well, I just couldn't care less for the most part. It'd probably be good if you wouldn't waste your time on me though. I mean, let's be real. You're not going to get my number once out if this country. Even if you miraculously did, you'd certainly make some replacement friends in college without the downsides that I have, so it'd be pointless. I know you won't listen anyway, and I said that I don't care either. So why am I even trying? I don't know.

If you'll remember I've tried to shut you out multiple times. It's funny now, ~because I feel absolutely nothing now.~ Quite often in the past I'd feel quite regretful or guilty, but now? Heh, just an emotionless robot just moving along now. Going through the motions you know. Still, if there's one thing I should mention, it's that I never lied to you when I said some sentimental crap like caring about you and such. Whoever I was back then, he genuinely ment it. And now, it seems like my wick is shorter than I imagined. It's going to burn up quick. You know what that means? Garima, it means peace at last. So, let me have my time now. I still dream of that little cottage far away, secluded from society. No-one for company. Okay, a cat and a dog. They'll be nice. A drum kit. Video games maybe? What'll I do? Electrician perhaps? Mechanic? Just so long as it isn't a crappy 9-5 job, and actually pays my bills. No people. No friends—do I really have any? No girlfriend—I don't want one (not asexual, but I'm not as horny as you I guess), and I doubt I'm capable of forming a proper relationship anyway. No family—I never had one to begin with. Can you imagine it? All alone and blissful. Just let me be. Please. One way or another, I'm gone. I'm actually feeling sad now typing this, tears in my eyes and all (I haven't cried in forever) but you shouldn't be. You've got a long, long way to go; you'll do well anyway. I don't know what I really was to you, or what I've done to you. I know that I was a hard person to deal with. I can't really list out all the times I've failed you; I hope you will forgive me for them. Believe me when I say that if there was ever I person I really tried to keep happy as often as I could, it was you.

" *Bye, stay healthy and happy* "

I won't—I can't.

Bye.

PS. Nice songs. I still appreciate music I guess, unless it's a really bad day.

...

[8/18/2018, 12:03 AM] Prathik: It seems not. Oh well, I was hoping I could talk one last time. Silly of me; you're probably either sleeping or studying for tomorrow's — should I say today's? — test.

[8/18/2018, 12:57 AM] Prathik: You know, I've been thinking: what if I wanted to talk to you one day? Would you then be ready to hold conversation? I think you would, but that doesn't strike me as fair. I mean you say that you'll miss me, but that's something you'll just have to take in your stride. On the contrary, if I miss you, then I try contacting you, and in all likelihood you'll just respond. What do you think?

[8/18/2018, 1:44 AM] Prathik: Maybe you're free tonight? I just want to talk; I don't know what I'm even doing now. Ugh I can't even explain it without sounding like some self pitying shithead. Forget it. I'm sorry

[8/18/2018, 12:42 PM] Prathik: Seriously, the very dynamics of our interactions are messed up. Everything is based on my mood and how I'm feeling. Don't want to talk? No problem! I'll go silent. Depressive episode? No problem! I'll go silent. It's like I can literally choose what and when we get to converse. Tired of our conversations? No problem! I'll just stop talking to you. And all you say is that you'll miss me. Sure, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, but bloody hell — why didn't you ever call me out for my behaviour? Gee, we screwed up...so many flaws and nothing was even done about them.

Yes, I'm ranting. I'll say stupid things, and maybe hurtful things too. If I were completely aware of what it is that sounded like that, then I wouldn't be saying them. Not that it's an excuse for saying anything I shouldn't. You probably shouldn't take anything personally, because in all likelihood, I'll probably just be projecting.

[8/18/2018, 12:52 PM] Prathik: Oh shit, I really need psychological help don't I? Do you think that if I got better, I'd finally stop sabotaging all the relationships I have?

[8/19/2018, 12:19 AM] Prathik: Goodbye

[8/19/2018, 2:25 PM] Prathik: Okay, I'll just leave this here. Just one last thing. I honestly am doubting my mental stability: I'd wager that I'm fairly unstable in general and more so at this point. My mood seems to swing like a fucking pendulum, and for whatever reason, I have and possibly might keep spouting unnecessary shit. So please, just *IGNORE EVERYTHING* I say. *EVERYTHING.* Except this one last message. Please. It's all I ask.

[8/19/2018, 2:54 PM] Prathik: I'm also not going to be using WhatsApp anymore — no point now right? — so I guess you'll be spared if having to reply to anything.

...

[8/8/2018, 10:24 PM] Prathik: Bloody hell, always nice to me even though I don't deserve it. Can't just go study like you ought to or talk to anyone else? You've got tons of friends after all. Perhaps one day they'll give you a consolation prize saying "good effort; hard luck" and maybe then you'll see how you're just wasting your time. Whatever. It's not like I can control you or force you to behave in a certain manner. Stupid world. Just leave me be

[8/8/2018, 10:52 PM] Prathik: I don't even know why you don't give in. I mean, what am I to you? Some depressed idiot that makes you feel better about yourself? I don't think that's the narrative you've sold to me, so that's probably not the reason.

It's kinda like you're an ant running against the wind. Not any wind, though, just that which is being blown by some sadistic little kid. It keeps running into it. Over and over it tries and fails. The wind keeps pushing it back, but the ant doesn't see how futile it's attempts are. It doesn't see that despite the fact that it keeps trying, nothing's going to change. It has so many other avenues of exploration, ones that would certainly lead to a great reception from the colony, but oh no. The ant keeps running, hoping that the resistance will decrease. Eventually the boy just blows harder, and the ant flies away and lands on its back. (Good thing it has an exoskeleton.) Only then does it see how pointless its efforts were, and that they were better off invested somewhere else.

...

You know how people throw that fucking annoying platitude around? That things will get better? Doesn't happen. It's no different in its progression from a physical illness, and once you go beyond a certain stage you're only living on fumes at that point. Limited time. But it'll get better they say. Fucking hell, it can also get worse, but who's willing to actually concede that bleak truth?

...

Yeah, maybe. I don't know. I'm just getting worse mentally. I mean, I set the suicide date for when I'm 25. It's only kept dropping. I started considering pushing it to college years, and now I'm genuinely pondering whether I should just drop out of college like when I'm 19 or so and be done with it — at least I won't have to wonder about how you'll come meet me in USA lol. I'm also drawing more blanks in tests. It's not like I don't know, it's just making me more and more anxious. Like the psychology UT we had just some time ago. I left 12 marks because it seemed to easy to be true and I thought I was wrong. I got 17.5 . And meeting people, ugh. Worse than ever. Sure I'm introverted, but at this rate I'm practically going to become a hermit. My ability to function like a sane person is waning, and it's actually quite clear. It's makes me awe struck and horrified at the same time seeing how someone is so capable of self sabotage. Yeah, I don't think I was made for this world. Just one big mistake that hasn't been taken care of yet.

...

Oh, if you haven't listened to it already, you really should listen to Heroes by David Bowie. Please do, if you haven't yet. Just this one song.

...

[6/28/2018, 12:13 AM] Prathik: I love you.

[6/28/2018, 12:14 AM] Prathik: ^ I just felt like saying that.

...

You don't get it. I don't know for sure that you like talking to me. Yes, you've said so so many times that I've lost track. I'd be lying if I said that it were enough to convince me. It isn't; you can't do anything to change my perception of myself, and sometimes I'll project, being the idiot I am after all. There's never going to be a time when I can the voice that says you're you're just using me for some kicks or something to shut up. That doubt will never go, and every time you say something like that, I'll make sure to interpret it as evidence that even you don't care, that you just let your guard down. You can't ever really make me satisfied or happy, so don't throw away any more of your time actually trying to justify anything. If you know that what you've done is fine, then it's fine.

...

[6/12/2018, 8:51 PM] Prathik: Speaking of which, it's interesting that you brought up the fact that our relationship is dysfunctional. Not that I really addressed it well when you originally meantioned it. It does make me wonder, are the dynamics of the way we interact with each other actually healthy? Perhaps we're just fucking each other in the ass and not even realising it? While it's a possibility that I consider, you should know that I don't think the second one is too probable. All the same, it's bothersome enough to actually consider pondering over. Funny, though, how I've just turned a blind eye to it; best relationship you've had you say. Pretty much the same for me, I suppose that's why I've not considered anything that suggests contrary to that opinion.

You know, we never did our cliched apologies. I'm not sure what exactly to apologise for; however, I don't have any qualms admitting that I did fuck up. I'm not sure it makes any sense to apologise for going silent for a month. Honestly, while I did miss you, I'm not sure of how much I actually regret it. Heck, if I hadn't misunderstood your message and not responded... Moreover, what's the point of saying sorry for something I've done multiple times and might do again anyway? It probably does defeat the purpose of it. I do regret making you angry though. I'm not too proud of getting you pissed off, I honestly am sorry about that. That conversation just didn't go the way I'd have liked it to I guess...

[6/12/2018, 8:53 PM] Prathik: Also, is it just me or have things between us changed? I mean, the one month silence probably did more harm than good. It'd have probably been better had I never done anything, or had not stupidly misinterpreted what you said and stayed silent after all. I don't know, I'm not saying it has anything to do with you anyway. I know who's responsible if something is wrong after all.

[6/12/2018, 10:04 PM] Prathik: Oh, today I mixed NaOH with NH4Br, boiled it and inhaled it. I also had to do some speaking for a group activity in English, and I didn't really fuck it up at all or get shaky knees

Just saying. Anyway, which Tapasya acquaintances are you still in touch with?

[6/12/2018, 10:42 PM] Prathik: Oh look, they just killed off net neutrality in USA. Fucking Ajit Pai. As if he didn't have an incredibly punchable face to begin with.

...

[6/10/2018, 10:05 AM] Prathik: If you say so. Read at your own inconvenience.

Since I'm idiotic enough, I decided to read more of the dude's articles. Lost a ton of brain cells. Also, don't read the comments. Nutty, the lot of them.

[6/10/2018, 11:00 AM] Prathik: "The power of propaganda always surprises me. Only 30 years ago, homosexuality was almost universally condemned, and now it’s accepted in half the world and half the States. Clearly, the natural position worldwide is that homosexuality is a disorder, and should be condemned. The problem is, we lost the youth. Somehow, homosexual advocates were able to brainwash and indoctrinate them into accepting it. If you talk to anyone my age, they believe that homosexuality poses no health risks (homosexuals have a 5 times higher chance of getting HIV) and that they are born as homosexuals (despite no scientific evidence.) IMO this is a result of two things: homosexual propaganda (esp. through the internet) and the collapse of the traditional marriage model. The parents simply haven’t taught their children about Christianity and thus they are easy prey for the homosexual movement.

Honestly, I am very pessimistic and I feel that it’s only going to get worse as time goes on. More and more ‘Christians’ are accepting this behavior day by day and it’s heartbreaking."

Has to be the most ironic things I've ever read. Talks about propaganda and indoctrination, but completely turns a blind eye to how he's become what he is.

[6/10/2018, 6:29 PM] Prathik: And now, I've realised that I could have actually spent my time better by talking to you on the phone as you suggested. Not that I studied one bit as I planned to do.

...

[6/9/2018, 1:56 AM] Garima Joshi: Bye now, love you.

[6/9/2018, 1:57 AM] Prathik: Bye. Love you.

...

if I could really recover from the depressed, socially anxious, and suicidal person I am today, believe me I'd let you know immediately. I promise.

...

[3/20/2018, 3:01 AM] Garima Joshi: I know you said you were tired. Thanks for sticking around. Always great talking to you.

[3/20/2018, 3:02 AM] Prathik: It's always fun talking to you. So.. yeah. Do we say goodnight or goodmorning at this point?

[3/20/2018, 3:03 AM] Prathik: Yeah. Stay safe in Delhi will you? Bye.

[3/20/2018, 3:04 AM] Garima Joshi: I'll try, I'll try.

Have a good day (today)

Bye, love you.

[3/20/2018, 3:06 AM] Prathik: I thought you said cheesy stuff were grossing you out...

I'm sorry, did I sound a little overprotective?

[3/20/2018, 3:13 AM] Garima Joshi: Okay Patrick I love you v much but I'll find you a wife tomorrow, for now you need those 2 hours 58 minutes of beauty sleep to rope in all those women

[3/20/2018, 3:13 AM] Prathik: Lulz. Fine. Love you too.

[carrowbrown]

DBZ Fanfiction

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or anything related to it. All the content in this story is written purely for fun. Please enjoy. ----

Chapter One: I was serious three planets ago.

The bug-eyed created pointed one of its fingers to the screen. "So what about this planet?"

Captian Taiji walked over, his serpent-like tail slithering on the floor behind him as he peered at the monitor of the helm officer. His talon flicked through the details of the planet that were collected from a probe that had come a few weeks prior to their arrival.

"Low population for a planet that size," he mused. "Am I reading these scans correctly? Plenty of water and vegetation, but low life forms?"

"The researchers think there was a recent war of sorts. You can see it in the craters all over the surface, but," the helm officer brought up another close screen of the craters, "if you look closely, you can see that they aren't the result of meteorites." He leaned back to look at the captain. "You think the population is open to trading?"

The captain frown, his attention fixed on the display of the blue planet. "Wasn't there something about this planet in the galaxy logs? The name seems familiar."

"Perhaps." The helm officer flew across the console keys, pulling up the galactic records. After skimming through the scrolling text, he pointed a finger to one line. "It says that Lord Freeza and his father were killed here by a Sayjin."

The captain's scaly browns went up. "That's right. I remember those reports. A Sayjin… That's interesting. Any active tags to show they're still there?"

"No, I double checked." The humanoid-insect leaned back in his chair. "Unless they learned how to deactivate them."

"Shame. Who knew how much they'd be needed after they were eradicated. We're lucky we found the one we did." He studied the planet display again, his tail flicking to and fro as he stared in silence. "Prepare for entry. We'll open for trade and see what we can find out. If we're lucky, maybe the Sayjin did some repopulation activities."

The helm officer chuckled, the sound coming out in a series of clicks and hisses. "Of course." He turned and punched in codes as the lights on the ship changed from their calming blue to green: the color to let the crew know to prepare for landing.

* * * * *

Five years.

Five years since the androids were destroyed. Five nice, peaceful, years humans used to up the pieces and put their lives back together. Sure, there had been hard times in some places with food shortages or small domestics, but they weren't that urgent in the large scheme of things. Bulma herself was content with the current state of things. Could they be better? Of course. Would they? In time.

Between her and Trunks efforts, life returned to a sibilance of normalcy. A slow return, but steady. Thanks to Capsule Corporation technology, getting supplies and much-needed rations to different people around the world made relief work for more deprived areas possible. People still flinched when a shadow passed overhead, but the children that were running about didn't have such reactions. They were growing up in better times and that was all that mattered to the blue haired scientist.

Bulma leaned back in her office chair, rubbing her eyes with a sigh. A look at the clock showed she'd been there for the better part of six hours. As if by magic, the moment she saw the time her stomach growled.

I'm turning into my father, she mused, standing and walking out of the office. Days would pass and he'd forget to feed himself if it wasn't for mother.

It made her sad to think of her parents, gone now. So many of those on earth were lacking parents or key family members. Her heart went out to Chichi, living with her father in the middle of the woods with her husband and son gone. Bulma felt lucky in that, she still had her son.

Walking into the kitchen, a bright yellow post-it note stuck to the coffee maker caught her attention. She picked it up, looking at the small and neat handwriting of her son.

Hi mom. Looked like you were in the zone. I left you some breakfast. Going to Pepper City to see about fixing a generator. Back for dinner. Trunks.

"Such a good boy." She smiled at the note, placing it on the table before opening the fridge to see what creation Trucks had left her. Bright and gifted he was, he still has single-man habits when it came to the concept of foods. Nachos for dinner, beans on toast, and take-out where Trucks' idea of 'making dinner.' Bulma spotted the left-over pizza and felt her stomach growl.

Putting it into the microwave, she mused over the change of her son. Since his return, Trunks spent more time taking care of her than her taking care of him. It never reached a fussy level, but she noted how close he stayed to home.

He never elaborated about his time in the past. When he did speak about it, it was too cut and dry. Too technical. Like a lab report. Something had happened that shook him, but hell if she could guess what it was. She hoped one day Trunks would be willing to share it with her.

"Maybe one day," she said, speaking herself. "You definitely picked up some of your father's manors."

Bulma hoped that Vegeta had been a good father figure for Trunks… or at least what he thought was a good one. Placing a hand over her heart, she mentally pushed away the pangs of loneliness. Whoever had said time heals all wounds never loved a Sayjin Prince. Vegeta hadn't been the greatest of lovers, but he'd been perfect for her. Equal in ego, wit, power—in their own ways—and passion.

The beeping brought her out of her thoughts and she looked back to the microwave—

—it was still cooking.

The beeping happened again and she looked up to find one of the droids she made was floating overhead while flashing at her. She blinked at it, completely taken by surprised by it. She'd made it over thirty years ago when the first Sayjin had landed on earth.

She'd made it to give warning before there was another landing.

Snapping out of her daze she punched a button on the droid and pulled it down to look at the screen on it. The image showed a ship that was slowly lowering into the atmosphere. It wasn't like one of the pods that she'd seen and much larger than the Namek ship she'd piloted. There were what she suspected to be weapons on the ship, but they were pointed up and away from the surface of the earth.

For now.

Oh please, kami, Bulma thought. Let this be a peaceful group.

She rushed out of the kitchen and do her speeder, her food in the microwave forgotten. Punching in the coordinates for the estimated landing site, Bulma guided the speeder up and let the navigation take over. She wasn't sure how much good she could do, but given she was one of the few people with experience in speaking to alien species, she wanted to do what she could with this new and unknown group.

And it would be a lie to say she wasn't a little excited about it.

* * * * *

The crew scurried about the ship like an ant colony. The security prepped and handed out ki-blaster to those venturing outside. By the main door, a group of environmental scientist in light blue bodysuits checked, rechecked, and triple checked the readings of the planet's atmosphere.

"It's safe," one said, over the ship intercom. "You can breathe the air. I don't recommend drinking the water or eating anything until we have it tested. No telling what's developed on this planet."

"Understood. At least we don't have to greet them wearing the suits," said the captain. "Landing crew ready?"

"Yes, sir." The helm officer looked at his screen and tilted his head at the monitor. "There is a message from engineering about one of the turbo engines."

The captain grimaced at the announcement. "Stall for me. I want to stretch my legs a bit before having to deal with the head engineer." He wanted to step outside and breath in planet-created air and bath in the warmth of a sun. All the crew did.

"Yes, sir," The officer said as he turned his attention back to his own monitor.

Rolling his shoulders, the Captain went back to his chair to pluck his modest officer jacket up and worked it on. He took a moment to smooth it out, attempting to be as presentable as possible. Often these visits went well, but normally they were planets that were used to outside visitors. If records were correct, the only real outside visitors this sphere had gotten were Sayjins and that was not always the best introduction to life in space. He nodded to two others on the ship, his second in command and communication officer.

Most planets understood Galatic Common.

The trio made their way towards the entrance of the ship where three security officers stood waiting for them. At the sign of the three officers, they straightened to attention and saluted.

"At ease," the captain said. Once the men relaxed, he added, "I want this to be a peaceful mission. We don't know the culture, the customs, or even if they speak Galactic Common. For all we know, we've landed on a holy area and started a war. So," he gave each crew member in front of him a look, "best behavior. We want to trade and stay planetside for as long as the welcome lasts."

They all answered with a curt nod.

The computer by the door beeped, a computerized voice saying, "Door opening. Please watch your step."

The captain pulled in a breath and released it. "Let's make friends."

The computer unlatched all the safeties as the first whoosh of fresh air rushed into the ship. Security took the lead and once the all-clear sounded on the displayed of his scouter.

Taiji stepped out, barely suppressing a groan as natural warmth touched his scaly skin. His head tilted back and eyes closed and he soaked in the feel of the air all around him. He'd spent too long under a sun-lamp and not enough time in the sun.

"Captian," one of the security men said, "something's coming."

Looking around, Taiji picked out a growing dot in the distance. He watched it, assuming it to be a vessel of sorts. "No sudden moves. Let's see what happens."

They watched the large Capsule Corps car slow and coming to a stop several yards from them. A female shaped figure stepped out and stood there. She didn't move or speak. Instead, the creature did the same thing they were doing.

Watching.

Before he could take a step toward the figure, the second in command nudged him and jerked his head down the way they had come. The captain looked back to the figure marching over to him down the corridor and visibly cringed.

Apparently, the helm officer couldn't stall for very long. But seeing the look on his chief engineer's face, Taiji wouldn't have been able to either. Horrific storm clouds looked cuddly next to the promise in those dark eyes.

In truth, her appearance was cousin to the female that awaiting outside with only a few differences in her build. Sturdy and made for a warmer climate. Her hair was black and matted even though it was tightly braided in a bun. She wore engineer coveralls with easy to see patches and stains on it from oil and who knew what else. Her face was a little messy from smearing oil across it, but other than that, one would say the female was pretty indeed.

"Captain," The female said, speaking in her native language. It was a composition of clicks, low single syllables, that all merged together into something musical. "I would really like it if you would listen to me."

"I always listen to you, Veta," Taiji said in Galactic Common, trying to keep his tone light. "Now is not th-"

She cut him off. "You don't. Because if you did listen to me three planets ago, we could have actual turbo coils and not the makeshift ones I've made from the buffer panels." The female jerked a thumb towards the front of the ship. "Now we can't leave."

That got the Captain's attention and he frowned at Veta. "What do you mean we can't leave?"

"I mean we are stuck here," she said, pointing a finger to the ground, "until I can make actual replacement coils. Or buy them. The material I was using wasn't meant to transmit the type of energy that the engine needs to function. It was just a bandage over a wound. We're lucky the ship didn't explode on entry." She stopped to peek outside the door and nodded at the scenery. "At least we landed on a nice planet and not a piece of shit."

Taiji frowned, staring hard at his engineer. "How long would it take you to fix it?"

Veta shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know. Depends if I can find what I need on this planet or not. Could be a few weeks or a few months."

Buju spoke up, speaking in Veta's native tongue, though it lacked the musical quality, "You can't be serious."

Taiji's chief leveled a glare at the communications officer. "I was serious three planets ago."

The two looked at each other for a long moment while the others around them watched nervously. The Captain sighed in defeat and rubbed his three eyes. "Fix what you can, and I will see what can be done about obtaining the materials you need."

"Thanks." She gave him a curt nod and walked off back to the engine room, a monkey-like tail swayed in time with her walk.

Taiji pulled in a breath and released it. "One step at a time."

Looking back out to the female figure that was standing before the ship, the Captain recomposed himself before walking towards her. His second in command and communication officer came with him with a much heavier air about them than they'd originally had. The Captain kept himself looking has unintimidating as he could while walking over to the native who did not seem overly alarmed by his being there. A curious thing.

Once he was close enough, he bowed his head in what he hoped would be a respectful gesture here. "My name is Captain Taiji. We come to you in peace and in need. I'm afraid we're stranded here."

* * * * *

Author note: Hey all! If you made here, then I hoped you like the start of what I've done so far. I haven't written fanfiction in a long time and I wanted to pick this story up again. If you like it, let me know! Feedback is always welcomed-motivating-and appreciated.

[spyvstailor]

Origae-6 sex pollen fic?

Ohhh. I never get anon requests! Here goes…rated RR for Really Raunchy y'all. Hide yo kids!

Origae-6 was more beautiful than Daniels had imagined.

When they landed the whole planet seemed to be in full bloom.

Trees like Earth willows hung low over the lake where she had set up to build her cabin, their hanging branches releasing beautiful white blossoms into the water. Across the lake another type of tree had released white bits of fuzz into the air like fat snowflakes and they floated lazily around creating a scene worthy of a fantasy painting.

Daniels felt the romance in the air as couples took breaks from building their colony across the lake from her cabin and it made her heart hang heavy.She missed everything, about Jake. From his sneaky, almost roguish grins to the sound of his voice

At night, with the entire planet silent and serene, she missed him most. His body, hard and angular, his scent, musky but always clean. The feel of him wrapped around her, above her, pinning her down, pressing against her.Slicing her hand on a board, she cursed and dropped it.Maybe she should get her head out of the gutter and back into her work.Daniels thanked whoever was determined to be the new deity of man for Walter. He was the one with the technical know-how. She was just the muscle.

When it came time for her to obey the original orders to decommission Walter with the ship, she found no one objecting when she refused. Walter had made fast friends with the people and he had everyone in his corner, one of them, a robotics engineer, had even replaced his lost hand with a fairly good working match.Even if Walter hadn’t made friends, Daniels would have never had the heart to do away with him. He was her best friend, her family. Walter was the only one she wanted to build her cabin with.And he was so helpful, not just in building their home by the lake, he was there when she needed him. Quiet and observant, patient and just as sweet as always.

And at that moment he was there at her side, already patching her hand up.Android’s didn’t sweat like men, but in the sun Dany had noticed that Walter’s synthetic skin was beginning to bronze as she studied where his collar revealed his skin beneath, hidden from the sun.

“You should take your shirt off,” she said absently picking up the material to see the tan line better. “So you’ll get an even tan.”

Walter didn’t say anything, just finished bandaging her hand.

Daniels had no idea where the thought of Walter shirtless came from, but she suddenly had an urge to see him sans shirt.

The thought of why he could tan and how came to her mind, but she brushed it off the instant Walter stepped away.

Idly, she studied his body as he returned to work. Why did Weyland-Yutani find it necessary to make him so beautiful? What purpose did it suit to have a tall, broad shouldered God walking among them?He was a distraction at the moment.

What was wrong with her?

This pervert eying Walter like he was a slab of meat was not who she was.

His ass was poetry though.

Stop it, Dany!

Poor gentle Walter, what did he ever do to merit her drooling over him like some bitch in heat.But the things she could do to him…

Enough!

“Do you need a break?” She asked him.

Walter looked up with a glimmer in his blue eyes. Or were they green? Grey? They seemed to change, shift with the day. “I don’t,” he replied.

If course he didn’t.

That tiny, pleased smile touched the corners of his mouth and she smiled back.

“Want to go for a swim?” She asked.

He’s smile widened a little.

Heading for the water, leaving her work behind, she stripped her shirt off and shimmied out of her pants, leaving her topless, in her underpants.

Small breasts meant she hardly ever wore a bra, it was the hippie in her, she supposed. Wanting to live off the land with the man she loved, wearing next to nothing, not caring at all that Walter was now staring at her quietly, eyes unreadable.

Dany loved the lines of his face. They gave him character and a sort of charm.

“Coming in?” She asked. The cool water did nothing for the fire that thrummed in her blood.

Walter straightened his spine, standing at his full height.

Was he always so tall?

Slowly he set down the hammer he was using and approached the water.

Whereas she could go about bare foot and in next to nothing, he still wore the jumpsuit and hoodie he wore on the Covenant, even in the heat.

It drove her insane how much he covered up.

“It’s cool,” she added.

He was quiet for a moment, before asking in a grave, almost serious tone, “are you certain you want me in there?”

“Yeah,” she answered easily, not once thinking that what Walter was asking and what she heard him ask were two different things.

With precision and elegant grace, he knelt and unlaced his boots, before shucking his sweater.

She playfully splashed him and darted away into the deeper water.

He stopped halfway through unzipping his jumpsuit, eyes on the horizon behind her, across the lake.

Curious, Dany followed his gaze, but she didn’t have the vision Walter had, and missed whatever it was he was looking at.

Turning back, she watched as he looked about them, at the fluff that was flying around in the air.

She studied the hair of his chest, the muscles of his abdomen that were almost agonizingly half hidden by his jumpsuit. His hands were so beautiful, long spidery fingers, knuckles that looked like they had been in too many fistfights. Who was the man they designed Walter after? Whoever he was, he was gorgeous.

Walter’s eyes were on her again and he angled his chin down a little to speak, “there’s something in the air.”

“Are you sure it’s not love?” She teased, floating on her back, knowingly putting her breasts on display for him.

Without a word, Walter turned and walked off.

Dany watched him go, disappear into their tent with a gaze turned dark with lust. She would followed him there if she had to.

A short time later, he returned with one of their atmospheric devices and held it up, testing the air.

She emerged from the water.

“Pollen,” he murmured as she reached out and wound her arms around his waist. “At an eighty percent margin. You’re intoxicated with something carried by it. Some sort of endorphin enhancer.”

Dany slid her hands over his bare chest, pushing his jumpsuit open a little more.

Walter removed himself from her and walked over to the water’s edge, collecting her clothes.

“It’s only seasonal,” he declared, holding her clothes out to her.

“Then let’s not waste time,” she teased. “Fuck me.”

Walter looked at her evenly, blinking. “I would imagine allergy medication would work to block the pollen.”

Without a word he moved towards her and scooped her up.

She bit her bottom lip. Now they were talking.

Carrying her to the tent, he laid her down on her cot and moved to their first aid kit, digging through it.

In the meantime, Dany shucked her underpants and waited for him to return.

Leaning over her, he offered her a pill.

“Take this,” he suggested. “You’ll feel better.”

“I just want you to touch me,” she whispered.

Reaching out, he stroked her hair back with his hand. “Take the pill, Daniels,” he mumbled.

She ran her own hand over his cheek, thumb ghosting over his lips as he managed to ease the pill into her mouth.

Dany swallowed it.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

Covering her with a blanket, Walter said, “I’ll be back in a little while.”

“Stay,” she breathed.

Leaning down, he pressed his forehead to hers.

Dany angled her chin up, trying to taste his mouth on his lips, he but moved his head to the side.

“You’ll feel better soon,” he said, voice rumbling in his chest.

She pressed herself up against him wantonly, needing to find a release.

Walter moved her forward and slid in behind her, holding her between his legs, hands on her forearms, keeping her still.

In her ear, he whispered words, poems, stories, songs, until Dany began to feel that hot thrum in her blood cool.

After an hour or so, she began to feel the cold of being wet and naked, the first shiver that racked her body was quelled by Walter pulling the blanket up and around her.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked her finally.

Embarrassed, she nodded.

“I think Spring will be interesting around here,” he said.

It was an attempt at a joke, which though she appreciated it, her humiliation prevented her from enjoying it.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“It was the pollen,” he stated.

“No,” she murmured sheepishly. “I don’t think it was entirely the pollen.”

Walter was quiet.

Struggling to angle her face up to read him, she found him closed off, blank.

“Walter?” She asked.

“I know what you need,” he said. “But I don’t think I’m the one you need it from.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” she declared.

After a painful minute of him being once more emotionless, he tilted his mouth down towards her, pausing an inch from her lips and hovering there.

She pulled back curiously.

“Just testing,” he grinned a little, before completing the motion.

Dany pushed back into the kiss eagerly. At first it seemed as though Walter didn’t know what to do, how to move his head and then, like a light bulb coming on, he began to kiss her like a fucking pro.

She scrambled to turn around without breaking the kiss, straddling him, hands going straight for his bare chest.

Pollen or no, he was still the most beautiful man she had seen in years.

As her mouth slid down from his, she stopped to worship his collarbone, admiring something she had never considered sexy before.

Walter’s hand slid through her hair and he cupped her skull in his long hand. He could break her if he wanted, he could close his hand and squished her like a bug, but he was so careful, so gentle with her that it almost made her cry.

His skin wasn’t oily or grimy or sweaty, it was delicious and she lapped and suckled as it desperately. Her goal was have kissed every inch of him and she was nearly a third of a way there.

As she journeyed lower, forcing his jumpsuit open roughly, she never knew how much of a fucking deviant she was, until she glance up and found him watching her with innocent, curious eyes.

She wanted to darken that innocence a little, to make him think wicked thoughts when he thought of her.

“Tell me what you want,” he said.

“I thought you knew,” she teased, pushing his jumpsuit off his shoulders.

“I said I knew what you need, a want and need are two completely different things,” he corrected.

“I need you,” she stated, pulling his jumpsuit off as he lifted his hips to help her remove it. “And I want to suck your soul out.”

He blinked at her wicked grin.

“Does that scare you?” She asked, hand moving to touch his cock through his ship issued underwear.

“Nothing does,” he replied. “I was made without the ability to feel fear.”

“I don’t mind a little fear,” she admitted. “As long as it’s all in good fun.”

“Like a rush of adrenaline?”

“Are we really going to talk semantics while I stroke you through your boxer briefs?” She demanded, pleased that he could actually get hard. Pleased still further than he had a dick to begin with. He could have been made like a Ken-doll, so the fact that Weyland-Yutani built him fully functional made her think there was a hidden reason why he was so beautiful.

Unable to wait any longer, she unwrapped her gift, mouth down and on it before Walter could react.

Dany dragged her tongue from the base to the tip, before grinning up at him.

The unreadable android had his eyes closed and his head back a little and she laughed a little in triumph. So she could elicit a reaction from him if she tried hard enough.

At her laugh, his eyes snapped open and he pinned her with a stoic, wide eyed look, before suddenly gripping her and tossing her back onto her cot.

She giggled at the feeling of his power, legs falling open on their own like the bitch in heat she was.

Walter covered her body with his, eyes staring at her evenly as his hands roamed her body, fondling her almost mechanically. She kind of loved the feeling of humiliation as he was so business-like in his tactile study of her and when his fingers found her nipples and pinched, she arched her back, prepared to allowed him any use of her he wanted.

At his mercy, she realized that just as much as she wanted to corrupt his innocence, she wanted him to corrupt hers as well. She wanted it to be rough and almost dominating, before curling up in exhaustion in his arms, safe. Because she would be safe. Walter would still be her Walter, she had no doubt as to that.

His fingers left her breasts and roamed down past her neatly trimmed curls, to her core, where he plunged them in her roughly, eyes still watching her with a simple, studious look.

As he worked his fingers in and out of her, thumb moving over her clit, she realized that he was going to make her cum as he mercilessly watched her and it turned her on even more.

“Suck me,” she murmured to him, pushing his head down to her breast.

It was a selfish act, but she had no choice, he did this to her.

As his mouth descended on a nipple, as he nibbled and suckled, as his fingers continued assaulting her, she found herself getting close to her greedy goal. It had been so long since she had a good fuck, that it didn’t take long at all before she was arching her back and moaning, trembling against him.

Walter wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her up, fingers slowing inside her, eyes on hers. He held her through the last remnants of her orgasm, before placing a sweet, almost promising kiss to her temple.

Sighing, she flopped back onto the cot.

“I can’t move,” she mumbled.

Walter sat back, eyes on her, still hard.

“You’re gonna have to take what you need,” she teased. “I’m boneless.”

Thinking he got the joke, she was startled when he gripped her hips and suddenly slammed inside her. She was startled, but it was completely welcome, as her over stimulated body trembled again and she whimpered.

He slowed his approach, worry furrowing his brow.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, reaching down and taking his hand in hers. “I won’t break.”

Taking that as an okay to be a little rougher, Walter picked up his pace, hand still holding hers.

Despite her over stimulation, and wanting nothing more than to reach completion with him, she began to roll her hips in time to his thrusts, meeting his powerful things with her ass.

Picking her up as though she weighed nothing, he settled her on his lap as he rocked into a sitting position and Dany found herself riding him.

With each thrust, she could feel him hitting her deep inside and it was both pain and pleasure.

“I love you,” she panted as she fought hard to reach her second orgasm, the second one always harder than the first.

Walter tilted his head at her like a puppy and she buried her face into the side of his neck to laugh.

They both reached a blissful high together, shuddering and panting together, collapsing into her cot in a heap of limbs.

With her last ounce of energy, she rearranged herself to lay on his chest, listening to his artificial breathing and the beat of a fake heart.

“You have a heartbeat,” she mumbled in surprise.

“Yes,” he said. “For you.”

She found that sweet, until he added.

“So you don’t find it macabre to wake up to a still bed partner.”

“It could have been so romantic, Walter,” she teased.