#orbital scanner

[alphatechsusa]

AlphaTechsUSA's orbital scanner is a hands-free QR / 2D school lunch scanner with high accuracy and speed scanning.

[patheticperipatetic]

Fun fact, you can look at the earth live from the ISS.

If you see this blazed it's cuz I get a monthly blaze and I this is the post I wanna share. The link changes from time to time so you can either bookmark this post or subscribe to NASA. I'll try to keep this link up to date.

The ISS feed has three looks:

The "It's in Earth's Shadow" black screen

The "They're using the internet bandwidth for something else right now like FaceTime with their family members"

And the 👁️👄👁️

45 minutes in the sun, 45 minutes in Earth's Shadow, (90 minute orbit) so half the time there's nothing to show. Minus! the time that the video feed is shut off for bandwidth. So less then half the time it's awe inspiring but the times when it is: amazing.

I bought a 4 or 5 inch monitor for my desk that's just a browser window to this YouTube page.

Jumpscare warning, you can hear the astronauts talk to ground control. If you're not expecting it you'll just hear a voice. Sometimes its funny, like one time someone at Houston said something like "we can turn it on for you remotely from downstairs". Most of the time it's not clear what they're talking about, since its their work phone line, essentially. A lot of it is mundane stuff like "hey, these serial numbers don't match up, what do I do?" or "houston the barcode scanner isn't syncing with the ipad, I've tried rebooting both".

[faebled-stories]

Turbulence

Kinkvember Day 16: Mile High Club

Nmixx Oh Haewon x Male reader

“Hello, everyone! Welcome back to WORKDOL!” Haewon’s voice rang out with a contagious spark of energy, her words riding the crisp autumn breeze that teased strands of her dark hair across her face. She tucked them back with a practiced flick of her fingers, her radiant smile lighting up the screen. The sunlight played across her features, a golden halo highlighting her natural charisma as she gestured toward the sleek entrance behind her.

“I’m your beautiful and loving host, Haewon, and today’s challenge is taking me to new heights—literally.” Her laughter carried an edge of anticipation, and her enthusiasm practically leaped through the camera lens. The airline training facility behind her loomed like a modern cathedral of glass and steel, its polished facade catching the sun in a dazzling display that mirrored both her energy and the grandeur of the setting. The gleaming reflection framed her figure, a dynamic blend of her bold personality and the facility’s imposing elegance.

Spinning back to face the entrance, her boots clicking smartly against the pavement, she spread her arms in an exuberant gesture. “I’ve done some pretty wild stuff on this show, but today, I’m stepping into the shoes of a flight attendant. And trust me, there’s a lot more to it than just handing out snacks at 30,000 feet.” Her grin widened as she took a confident step forward. “Safety, service, and smooth skies—I’m going to learn it all. Let’s see if I can keep up!”

The automatic glass doors slid open with a whisper, releasing a wave of cool, conditioned air that carried a faint hint of jet fuel and a clean, soapy freshness from the nearby uniforms. Pausing inside the cavernous lobby, Haewon drew a steadying breath, her chest rising and falling as she absorbed her surroundings. The space was vast yet orderly, sunlight pouring through towering windows onto sleek tiled floors. The low hum of conversations mixed with the soft beeping of security scanners, a quiet symphony of activity that spoke of precision and focus.

It was then that she saw you.

Standing near the check-in counter, your presence immediately commanded attention. Your tailored navy-blue uniform was impeccably pressed, each detail from the sharp creases of your slacks to the polished silver wings on your chest exuding professionalism. Yet, it was your demeanor that truly captured her focus—a calm, collected confidence that made the bustling environment seem to orbit around you. When your eyes met hers, there was something both grounding and electric in your gaze, a quiet assurance paired with a welcoming warmth.

“Welcome aboard, Haewon,” you said, your voice low and steady, carrying an effortless blend of authority and approachability. Extending a hand toward her, you added with a faint smirk, “Ready for a crash course in being a flight attendant?”

She took your hand, her grip firm yet lingering just a beat longer than necessary. “Oh, I think I’m ready,” she replied, her tone light with a teasing edge. A playful glance back at the camera crew underscored her words. “The question is—are you ready for me?”

The faintest flicker of amusement crossed your face, softening your otherwise composed expression. “I’ve trained a lot of people,” you said smoothly, your tone betraying nothing but cool professionalism. “But I have a feeling you’re going to be... different.”

Her laugh rang out, light and musical. “You have no idea.”

Falling into step beside you, Haewon matched your calm stride, her eyes occasionally flicking toward you as if trying to decipher the layers beneath your poised exterior. The hallway stretched ahead, its polished floors gleaming under the soft glow of overhead lights. The distant hum of simulators grew louder with each step, a low, almost hypnotic vibration that thrummed through the air.

“So,” she began, her voice playful, “do you always keep it this formal, or are you saving the charm for later?”

You glanced at her sidelong, the corner of your mouth twitching in the faintest smile. “Let’s focus on the basics first,” you replied, your tone both firm and teasing. “Charm might come later—if you earn it.”

She let out a soft laugh, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she shot you a challenging look. “Challenge accepted.”

When the training cabin came into view, Haewon slowed, her steps faltering ever so slightly as she took in the scene before her. The replica interior was a flawless facsimile of an airplane cabin, every detail meticulously crafted to mimic reality. Pristine rows of fabric seats stretched into the distance, their neatly aligned headrests giving an air of almost military precision.

Overhead compartments gleamed under the soft fluorescent lighting, their edges perfectly contoured. At the far end, emergency equipment was arranged with a precision that exuded both order and a subtle, sobering weight.

For the first time, Haewon felt the enormity of the task ahead. Her playful energy wavered just a touch, replaced by a flicker of trepidation. This wasn’t just another challenge for the cameras—this was about responsibility. Lives could depend on what she was about to learn.

“We’re starting with the safety demonstration,” you said, your voice calm but carrying a note of gravity that pulled her back into the moment. “Passengers rely on flight attendants to guide them in emergencies, so this is one of the most critical parts of the job. You’ll learn how to operate the oxygen masks, life jackets, and cabin doors.”

“No pressure, right?” she quipped, her grin returning, though there was an edge of nervousness beneath it.

You gave her a reassuring smile, stepping forward with practiced ease to open an overhead compartment. The soft click of the latch released the panel, and you retrieved a bright yellow oxygen mask. The tubing coiled slightly as you held it aloft, the rubberized surface gleaming under the lights.

“Step by step,” you said, offering the mask to her. Your hand brushed hers briefly, the contact fleeting yet charged enough to make her pause. Haewon quickly recovered, mimicking your demonstration as she secured the mask over her face. Her movements were careful, deliberate, though she couldn’t help but notice how your steady gaze stayed on her, assessing, encouraging.

“Not bad,” you remarked, a flicker of amusement in your eyes as she fumbled slightly with the straps. “You’re a quick study.”

“I’m great at learning... with the right teacher,” she replied, her smirk returning as her confidence steadied.

Your expression didn’t waver, though there was an unmistakable warmth in your tone as you handed her a life jacket next. “We’ll see if that holds true,” you said. “Let’s keep going.”

The training session continued with a steady rhythm, each task blending professionalism with an undercurrent of tension that simmered just below the surface. As you demonstrated how to secure the life jacket, Haewon’s focus wavered. Her attention was drawn to the way your hands moved—precise, confident, every gesture purposeful.

When you stepped closer to adjust the straps on her shoulders, your fingers brushed against her collarbone. The contact was fleeting but sent a ripple of heat through her skin, as if the touch carried an unspoken promise. Her breath caught for just a second, and a soft flush crept up her neck before she quickly composed herself, hiding her reaction behind a practiced, teasing grin.

“There,” you said, stepping back to assess your work. A faint smile played at the corners of your lips, a mix of satisfaction and subtle amusement. “Now you’re ready.”

“Think I’ll pass the test?” she asked, her tone light, though a slight waver betrayed her lingering nerves.

“You’re doing well so far,” you replied, your voice low and steady, the warmth in your tone an unspoken reassurance. The way your gaze lingered on hers for just a moment longer than necessary sent her pulse racing. Then, as if sensing the shift, you turned away smoothly, giving her the space to collect herself.

When the meal service portion of the training began, Haewon found herself walking a fine line between playful confidence and distraction. Carrying the serving tray through the narrow aisles of the mock cabin was surprisingly challenging, especially with you standing close. Your quiet observations, both grounding and unnerving, felt like a spotlight she couldn’t escape. She could feel your presence even when you weren’t speaking, your calm authority acting as both a guide and a silent challenge.

By the end of the ground training, Haewon was beaming with pride. Her earlier apprehension had melted into a palpable sense of accomplishment. She straightened her posture, adjusting the collar of her uniform as she turned to you. “Not bad for my first day, right?” she teased.

“You’ve done well,” you admitted, a hint of warmth softening your typically composed demeanor. But then your expression shifted, a spark of anticipation flashing in your eyes. “But we’re not done yet. In about an hour, you’ll put everything you’ve learned to the test—on a real flight.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, though excitement quickly replaced any hesitation. “An actual flight? Already?”

You nodded, your faint smirk returning. “No pressure.”

Her laugh was bright and full of confidence, though a nervous energy buzzed beneath the surface. “Bring it on.”

-----

The short break passed in a blur, and before Haewon knew it, she was standing in the aisle of an actual airplane, her hands clutching a laminated safety demonstration card. The hum of the engines filled the cabin, a low, steady vibration that thrummed through her feet and echoed in her chest. The lighting overhead cast a warm glow, softening the sharp lines of the space and lending it a strangely intimate atmosphere.

You stood nearby, your posture relaxed but your gaze sharp, watching her every move with quiet intensity. Despite the weight of your presence, Haewon felt a thread of camaraderie growing between you, a subtle shift in the dynamic that had begun during the ground training. She could see it in the way your gaze softened when she stumbled slightly, and in the faint curl of your lips when she recovered with a self-deprecating joke.

The flight was already underway, the cabin filled with the faint murmur of passengers chatting, flipping through magazines, and settling into their seats. The scent of coffee brewing in the galley mingled with the sterile metallic tang of the recycled air, creating a distinct atmosphere unique to being miles above the earth.

Haewon stood near the forward galley, her hand resting lightly on the counter. She adjusted her uniform self-consciously, keenly aware of your steady presence just a few steps away.

“Ready for service?” you asked, your tone calm, with just enough of a challenge to make her lift her chin confidently.

“Born ready,” she quipped, grabbing a tray from the counter with a playful flourish. Her confidence faltered slightly when the tray shifted awkwardly in her hands, but she recovered quickly, shooting you a grin. “No big deal—I’ve got this.”

Your lips twitched in the faintest of smiles. “Let’s hope the passengers feel the same.”

Haewon stepped into the aisle, her posture straightening as she approached her first task: offering drinks and snacks to the passengers. The tray was heavier than she anticipated, the weight testing her balance as she maneuvered through the narrow space. Her heart beat a little faster when she caught you watching her, your gaze steady, assessing, and just a touch amused.

As she handed a cup of coffee to an elderly passenger, she glanced over her shoulder. “See? Flawless,” she said lightly, her grin widening.

“Not bad,” you replied, following her at a measured pace. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

“I’m more than getting the hang of it,” she retorted, her voice playful as she breezed past you to the next row. “I’m a natural.”

The subtle challenge in her tone drew a soft chuckle from you, though your expression remained composed. The exchange felt like a dance, her energy bouncing off your calm reserve in a way that kept her sharp and on edge.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you said, your voice low enough that only she could hear. “The day’s not over yet.”

By the time the aisle service was complete, Haewon’s steps carried a bit more confidence. She returned to the galley, her tray empty, and set it down with a triumphant flourish. “Mission accomplished,” she declared, turning to face you.

“You’ve done well,” you acknowledged, a note of approval in your tone that made her pulse quicken. “But the real test is consistency.”

“Oh, I’m all about consistency,” she replied, tilting her head challengingly. “Care to test me?”

Your gaze lingered on hers for a moment longer than necessary, the tension between you thickening with every second of silence. Just as the moment threatened to stretch into something unspoken, a chime from the cabin interrupted. You glanced away first, your professionalism snapping back into place like a shield.

“Passengers first,” you said, your tone lighter now, though the flicker of warmth in your eyes remained.

Haewon followed your lead for the rest of the flight, her confidence growing with every completed task. Yet, no matter how routine the work became, she couldn’t ignore the charged undercurrent in your interactions. Every time you brushed past her in the galley or caught her gaze across the cabin, her heart skipped a beat. The professionalism you maintained only heightened the tension, leaving her thoughts spinning and her pulse racing.

-----

As the plane leveled out and the hum of the engines steadied into a calm rhythm, the cabin lights softened, casting a warm, golden glow over the space. The passengers had settled into a quiet lull, the initial excitement of the flight giving way to a tranquil, almost meditative calm.

Haewon stood near the galley counter, her hands loosely gripping the edge as she exhaled, letting the whirlwind of the day finally catch up with her. Her body hummed with a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration, the tension of performing ebbing away to leave a buzz of satisfaction.

A few steps away, you leaned casually against the galley wall, your posture at ease but your gaze sharp, still assessing her as though the challenge hadn’t quite ended. The subtle intensity in your expression made her pulse quicken, though your silence carried no judgment—only a quiet, thoughtful admiration that sent her nerves fluttering.

“You did well,” you said finally, your voice low and steady, breaking the stillness like the first ripple in calm water. “Better than I expected.”

Her lips curved into a playful smile, the rare note of praise filling her with a quiet thrill. “Was there ever any doubt?” she teased, tilting her head as she leaned back slightly against the counter.

The faintest chuckle escaped you, soft and warm, like an echo of her own energy. “Maybe a little,” you admitted, the flicker of amusement in your expression lighting your features.

The honesty caught her off guard, her grin faltering for just a second before returning with a bolder edge. For a fleeting moment, the dynamic between you shifted, the playful air giving way to something deeper. Your expression softened, the lines of your usual composure blurring into something unguarded. The change drew her in, the hum of the plane fading into the background as the tension between you thickened—unspoken but palpable.

“You know,” she said, her voice light yet laced with teasing, “I think I’ve earned a little celebration for surviving my first day. Don’t you?”

Your brow arched slightly, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “What kind of celebration are we talking about?”

Her response caught in her throat for a moment, and the faint heat that bloomed in her cheeks only added to the weight of her words when she finally spoke. “Something… exclusive,” she said, her voice steady but rich with a daring undertone.

The meaning behind her words hung in the air, unmistakable and electric. Your gaze deepened, amusement giving way to something more deliberate. You leaned in slightly, your voice dropping to a quiet murmur that seemed to wrap around her. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

Her heart thundered against her ribs, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she stepped closer, closing the space between you with a confidence that surprised even her. The smile on her lips grew, soft yet determined, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think I’ve been ready all day.”

For a moment, the cabin around you seemed to fade. The muted golden light cast soft shadows across your face, highlighting the quiet intensity in your gaze as you studied her. Neither of you moved, the charged silence between you tightening like a drawn bowstring.

Then, with deliberate calm, you extended your hand toward her. Your touch was firm yet gentle, grounding as you guided her away from the galley. She followed without hesitation, her pulse racing as you led her toward the back of the plane.

At the rear, you pushed open the small lavatory door, the soft creak of its hinges cutting through the hush. Your hand lingered at the small of her back as she stepped inside, the warmth of your touch sending a shiver up her spine. When the door clicked shut behind you, the energy that had simmered between you all day finally erupted.

The confined space sharpened every sensation—the soft rustle of fabric as you turned to face her, the faint scent of her perfume mingling with the sterile metallic air, the heat radiating from your bodies in the tight quarters. Her breath hitched as your eyes locked, the tension that had stretched between you snapping in an instant.

Your hands found her waist, pulling her to you as your lips claimed hers in a kiss that was both searing and deliberate. Her gasp was muffled against your mouth as her fingers threaded into your hair, drawing you closer. Her body arched into yours, every inch of her responding to the intensity of the moment.

Your lips trailed from hers to her neck, lingering along the sensitive skin as you placed slow, deliberate kisses. Each touch drew a shiver from her, her breath catching when your teeth grazed her pulse point. “Are you sure about this?” you murmured against her neck, your voice rough with restraint.

Her reply came shaky but resolute, her hands clutching your shoulders like an anchor. “I’ve never been more sure,” she whispered, her pulse hammering beneath your lips as she tilted her head to give you better access.

The cramped space seemed to vanish as the moment consumed you both, the world outside forgotten in the wake of the energy unleashed between you.

The space was impossibly small, the metallic walls almost brushing against your shoulders, and the occasional jolt of turbulence only heightened the intensity of the moment. The space smelled faintly of disinfectant, mingled with the subtle trace of Haewon’s perfume—a delicate floral scent that teased your senses.

As you leaned back slightly against the narrow counter, Haewon knelt before you, her movements deliberate, her gaze unwavering. Her eyes, dark and filled with a mix of longing and playful confidence, locked onto yours, and the weight of her focus sent a shiver down your spine. Her breath was steady but quickening, her lips parting slightly as she settled into position.

The rustle of fabric was almost deafening in the otherwise quiet space as you undid your belt, the metallic clink of the buckle punctuating the silence. Haewon’s hands moved lightly to your thighs, her touch sending an electric jolt through your skin. Her fingers curled slightly, their delicate pressure grounding you even as your pulse quickened.

Her lips parted with deliberate intent, her breath warm against your skin as she began, her tongue tracing the underside of your length in slow, purposeful strokes. The first touch sent a shiver through you, your breath catching as she took her time, savoring each movement. Her tongue flattened against you, the slick glide paired with soft, teasing flicks that made your pulse pound. The confined space seemed to amplify everything—the wet sound of her tongue, the low, needy hum vibrating in her throat, and the sharp inhale you couldn’t suppress as her mouth enveloped you.

She started with an almost agonizing slowness, her lips forming a tight seal as she slid over you, her cheeks hollowing slightly as she sucked with increasing intensity. Her tongue danced in deliberate patterns, tracing every vein and ridge as if committing them to memory. Each time she withdrew, she paused to press soft, open-mouthed kisses along your length, her lips lingering as if savoring your taste. The contrast between the wet heat of her mouth and the cool air when she pulled away only heightened your sensitivity.

Her arousal became evident as she worked, her thighs pressing together as if seeking friction, a faint sheen of moisture beginning to darken the fabric at the apex of her legs. She shifted slightly, her hips grinding subtly against the floor as if responding to the growing heat building within her. A quiet, breathy moan escaped her lips as she took you deeper, the vibration against your skin sending a wave of pleasure surging through you.

Haewon’s movements became more confident, more urgent, her lips sliding over you with a rhythm that left no room for hesitation. She adjusted herself, her knees pressing firmly into the floor as her fingers dug into your thighs, holding you steady. Each time she took you into her throat, her muscles relaxed just enough to accommodate you, her moans growing louder as her arousal deepened. The faint scent of her arousal mixed with the confined air, a subtle but intoxicating reminder of how much she was enjoying this.

She pulled back slightly, her tongue flicking against your sensitive tip before she plunged forward again, her pace quickening. Her movements were fluid yet hungry, her cheeks flushed with exertion and desire. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple, catching the dim light, her effort and arousal written across every inch of her face. Her thighs shifted again, the friction of her movements drawing faint, involuntary gasps from her lips. You could see the way her body responded, her nipples pressing against her shirt, and the faint wetness between her legs growing more pronounced with each passing moment.

Reaching down, you tangled your fingers in her hair, guiding her rhythm as she moaned around you, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure racing through your body. She glanced up, her eyes glassy with desire, locking with yours as her lips stretched around you. That single look—filled with submission, need, and the unmistakable hunger to please—nearly undid you. Her mouth worked with a relentless precision, her tongue swirling in ways that left you gasping, her moans becoming increasingly desperate as if her own pleasure was tied to yours.

Her free hand slid up her own thigh, disappearing beneath the fabric of her shorts. You could see the subtle movement as her fingers pressed against herself, her hips rolling slightly to meet her touch. The sight of her pleasuring herself while her mouth remained focused on you sent a fresh wave of heat surging through your core. Her moans grew louder, muffled by your length, the vibrations intensifying as she worked herself closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Haewon,” you groaned, your voice thick with desire. She responded by taking you deeper, her throat relaxing as she let out a low, guttural moan that sent your head spinning. The slick heat of her mouth combined with the knowledge of her growing arousal pushed you closer to your breaking point.

As you felt the tension cresting, you tugged her hair gently, guiding her upward. Her lips released you with a wet, lewd pop, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and glistening, and her eyes dark with lust. Her thighs pressed tightly together, her arousal evident in the way her breath hitched, the damp spot on her shorts impossible to miss as she rose to her feet.

You tilted her chin upward, your thumb brushing along her jawline as you gazed into her eyes. “You’re fucking perfect,” you murmured, your voice thick with need. Her lips parted, her breath quick and shallow, as she leaned into you. The heat radiating from her skin matched your own as you claimed her mouth in a searing kiss, your hands sliding down to grip her hips, pulling her flush against you.

Haewon’s breaths came faster now, shallow and uneven, her flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips betraying the storm of emotions building within her. The vibrations of the plane beneath your feet, steady and unrelenting, seemed to mirror the pulse racing through her body, each tremor adding fuel to the fire already burning between you.

As you lifted her onto the counter, her body trembled beneath your touch. Her thighs pressed against your hips, her wet heat already evident even through the thin layers of clothing. The way her legs instinctively wrapped around your waist made your heart pound harder. Her hands gripped your shoulders for support, her fingertips digging into your skin as though anchoring herself to you. Her chest rose and fell in uneven rhythms, her breath catching with every soft, involuntary sound that escaped her lips.

Her arousal was undeniable in every movement, every soft gasp and whimper filling the small space. Her hips shifted forward to meet yours, the friction building with every press of her body against yours. The scent of her, faintly sweet and musky, mingled with the sterile air of the lavatory, creating a heady atmosphere that heightened your senses.

When your hand slid beneath her skirt, brushing against the damp heat of her panties, her body jolted at the contact. She let out a shaky moan, her hips arching instinctively to press herself closer to your touch. Her wetness had already soaked through the fabric, clinging to her folds, and as you slid the thin material aside, your fingers were met with slick, yielding warmth. “Please,” she gasped, her voice trembling, her thighs quivering around you as you teased her.

You lined yourself up, the heat of her body radiating against you as you pressed the tip of your length against her entrance. Her breath hitched sharply, her nails digging into your shoulders as she gazed into your eyes. There was a flicker of vulnerability in her expression, one that gave you pause, but when she nodded, her lips parting to whisper, “I want this,” it was all the reassurance you needed. Slowly, carefully, you began to press into her.

Her body was tight—almost unbearably so—and the resistance you felt made you move even slower, your hips advancing inch by inch. Haewon’s lips trembled as her hands clutched at your back, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. “You’re so tight,” you murmured, your voice soft as you paused, letting her adjust to the intrusion. She nodded faintly, her eyes fluttering closed as you sank a little deeper, her slick heat enveloping you inch by inch.

Just as you were making progress sheathing yourself inside her, the plane lurched violently, a sudden jolt of turbulence rocking the small room. The unexpected motion drove you completely into her, the force of it pushing past the last barrier. Haewon cried out sharply, her back arching as her hands flew to your shoulders, gripping you tightly. Her cry wasn’t just from pleasure but something deeper, more visceral. You froze immediately, your heart pounding as you registered the slight quiver in her body.

Something felt different—there was a heat, a tightness, an overwhelming sense of newness that struck you all at once. When you pulled back slightly, you caught a glimpse of a faint sheen of blood on yourself. Your eyes widened in shock, and you instinctively met her gaze. Tears shimmered in her eyes, from pain and something softer, more emotional. “Haewon…” you murmured, your voice trembling slightly. “Are you… were you a virgin?”

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushed as she nodded, her thighs still trembling against you. “Yes,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But… It's okay. I wanted this. I wanted you.” Her words were firm despite the tears in her eyes, her expression filled with trust and desire. “I knew it would hurt a little, but I didn’t care. I wanted you to be my first.”

Her confession hit you like a wave, a mix of emotions flooding through you—pride, awe, and a deep, possessive protectiveness. “Are you sure?” you asked, brushing a hand along her cheek, your thumb wiping away a stray tear. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She smiled faintly, her hands reaching up to cradle your face. “You’re not hurting me,” she said softly. “I’ve never wanted anything more. Please… don’t stop.”

Her reassurance steadied you, her soft, trusting smile anchoring you in the moment. You leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was slow but deeply charged, your tongue brushing against hers in a rhythm that matched the gentle rocking of her hips. Her breath hitched as you trailed kisses down her jawline, your lips mapping the contours of her skin with deliberate precision. When you reached her neck, you paused, your breath warm against her pulse point, feeling the rapid flutter beneath her skin.

Your teeth grazed the delicate flesh there, and she let out a soft, startled gasp, her hips pressing forward as though urging you on. You closed your lips around the spot, sucking gently, your tongue soothing the faint sting as your teeth pressed into her again, deeper this time. Her fingers tightened in your hair, her quiet whimper sending a jolt of heat straight through you. The small bruise that bloomed against her skin was a mark meant only for the two of you, a memory hidden in plain sight.

She shifted against you as your lips moved lower, trailing across the sensitive curve of her neck. Each press of your mouth drew a soft moan from her lips, her body responding instinctively to your touch. The marks you left were subtle but unmistakable, scattered along the line of her neck with care, the kind of marks that would be easy to conceal yet impossible to forget. She shivered beneath your touch, her skin warm and slightly damp, her arousal palpable in every movement.

“Hold me,” she gasped suddenly, her voice raw and trembling with need. Her arms wrapped tightly around your neck, pulling you closer as her fingers tangled in your hair, gripping you as though she couldn’t bear to let go. The way she clung to you, her nails digging gently into your scalp, sent a wave of possessive desire surging through you.

Her hips began to move with more urgency, grinding against you with an unrestrained eagerness that left you teetering on the edge of control. Each thrust drew her closer, her moans growing louder as the rhythm between you became chaotic, driven by both the unpredictable sway of the plane and the unrelenting heat building between you. Her breath mingled with yours, her cries becoming softer, more desperate, her body melting into yours as she surrendered to the moment completely.

The sensation of her trembling against you, the heat radiating from her skin, and the intimacy of the marks left on her neck—all of it combined to push the tension higher, until every movement felt like a tidal wave, crashing through both of you.

Just as her moans reached a fever pitch, a loud knock on the lavatory door broke through the haze. “Is everything alright in there?” came a muffled voice from outside.

The sudden interruption sent a shock through both of you, and Haewon’s eyes snapped open, wide with surprise. The tension in her body, already at its peak, pushed her over the edge. Her inner walls clenched around you violently, her body trembling as the rush of adrenaline mingled with the overwhelming pleasure. “Oh god,” she whimpered, her voice breaking as her head fell back against the wall, her lips parting in a strangled cry.

Her release was sudden and explosive, her moans rising uncontrollably as her entire body shook. “I can’t… it’s too much,” she gasped, her nails raking down your back as her hips bucked against yours. The act of nearly being caught seemed to strip away the last of her restraint, her climax crashing over her with unrelenting intensity. Her wetness flooded over you, her thighs tightening around your waist as she rode out the waves of her release.

“Occupied!” you barked, your voice rough and commanding, echoing in the small space. The sound of it seemed to ripple through Haewon, her body jolting at the force of your tone. Her legs locked tighter around you, her inner walls fluttering as the vibrations of the plane and the moment’s urgency drove her deeper into ecstasy.

Her eyes met yours, glazed with pleasure and slightly dazed, her lips trembling as she tried to catch her breath. “I… I can’t,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. The sight of her—flushed, trembling, her neck marked with faint hickeys, her body still quaking with aftershocks—was enough to push you past the brink. Your thrusts became erratic, each movement driven by instinct as you chased your release. A guttural groan tore from your chest as you buried yourself deeply inside her, your climax hitting with a force that left you shaking.

The warmth of your release filled her, the intimacy of the moment heightened by the chaotic rhythm that had brought you both to this point. Your breaths mingled, the two of you clinging to each other in the aftermath, your bodies still pressed together as the world outside seemed to fade away.

The plane seemed to hum in harmony with the beating of your hearts as you held her close, your forehead resting against hers. The world outside the door ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you in the aftermath of your passion. Haewon’s breathing was still uneven, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly swollen from the force of your kiss. Her hands slid up to cup your face, her eyes searching yours as a lazy, satisfied smile played on her lips.

You stayed like that for a moment, savoring the closeness, the intimacy of being completely wrapped up in each other. Outside, the distant murmur of passengers and the steady hum of the engines reminded you that the world hadn’t stopped for your moment, but inside the small lavatory, it felt like time had paused just for the two of you.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your bodies pressed tightly together as you caught your breath. The confined lavatory felt even smaller in the aftermath, the walls seeming to hum with the warmth of your shared passion. Slowly, you pulled back, your hands still resting on her waist as she leaned against the wall, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

Your eyes softened as you took her in—her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her lips swollen and glistening, and her hair slightly tousled. She looked utterly radiant, the glow of satisfaction mingling with a soft vulnerability in her expression.

“You okay?” you asked gently, your voice low and filled with concern, though the satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth betrayed your lingering exhilaration.

Haewon nodded, her lips curling into a lazy, blissful smile. “More than okay,” she whispered, her voice still breathless and soft, tinged with the lingering traces of pleasure. Her legs trembled slightly as she shifted, her body still adjusting to the aftermath of what had just transpired.

As her gaze dropped briefly, you reached up, your fingers gently brushing a few strands of her tousled hair away from her face. The gesture was soft and unhurried, your touch lingering as you tucked the wayward strands neatly behind her ear. Haewon’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and when they opened again, they were filled with something deeper—an affectionate warmth that made her cheeks flush anew.

A small, shy smile tugged at her lips, and she couldn’t help but whisper, “You’re so gentle.” Her voice was soft, barely audible over the low hum of the plane’s engines.

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, your lips lingering there as if to seal the quiet moment between you. “Only with you,” you murmured, your voice low and filled with meaning.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment longer, her hands resting lightly against your chest as she savored the intimacy of your touch. But as the seconds ticked by, her gaze flicked to the small mirror on the wall, and her expression shifted. “Oh my god,” she whispered, her hand flying to her neck as she caught sight of the faint bruises left by your lips. “Are those…?”

You followed her gaze, your eyes catching the small, dark marks scattered along the curve of her neck. Her cheeks turned crimson, and her hand trembled as she traced the marks. “People will see,” she muttered, her voice rising in a soft panic. “What am I going to do? I can’t—”

“Haewon,” you interrupted softly, your hands coming to rest on her shoulders. “It’s okay. Look at me.” She hesitated, her breathing uneven, but when her eyes met yours, the panic began to ebb. “I’ll fix it. Trust me.”

You glanced toward her flight attendant scarf, folded neatly on the small counter. Picking it up, you unfolded it carefully and turned back to her. “Here,” you said gently, moving to drape it around her neck. Her eyes widened slightly as your hands brushed against her skin, adjusting the fabric with deliberate care. You knotted it carefully, the silk falling into place perfectly.

“There,” you murmured, stepping back slightly. “No one will know.”

She turned toward the mirror, her fingers brushing against the scarf as she inspected it. The marks were completely hidden, and she let out a soft, relieved breath. “Thank you,” she said quietly, turning back to face you. Her voice was filled with gratitude, but there was still a hint of vulnerability in her eyes.

You reached out, brushing your fingers along her jaw, your touch light and reassuring. “You don’t have to thank me,” you said softly, your voice warm but tinged with something more serious. “But, Haewon… earlier…” You hesitated for a moment, searching her gaze. “I didn’t know it was your first time.”

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing deeper as her eyes dropped briefly before meeting yours again. “I know,” she admitted softly. “I didn’t tell you because… I didn’t want it to change anything.” Her voice wavered for a moment, but she steadied herself, her gaze unwavering. “I wanted this. I wanted you.”

Her words hit you hard, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest—pride, awe, and an overwhelming protectiveness. “Are you sure?” you asked gently, your thumb brushing against the side of her face. “I just… I don’t want you to regret this. Not here, not like this.”

Her lips curved into a faint, reassuring smile as she shook her head. “I won’t,” she said firmly, her voice soft but resolute. “I knew what I was doing. I wanted this moment with you. And I don’t regret it. Not for a second.”

Her sincerity left you momentarily speechless, the weight of her words settling deep in your chest. You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was tender and deliberate, lacking the earlier urgency but brimming with something far deeper. Her lips parted softly beneath yours, and when you pulled back, you rested your forehead against hers, your hands steadying her trembling frame.

Her brows furrowed suddenly, and she crouched slightly, glancing around the cramped lavatory. “Wait…” she muttered, her voice tinged with embarrassment as her hands brushed over the floor and edges of the counter. “Where are my panties?”

You leaned back against the door, crossing your arms with a teasing smirk. “How could you lose that?” you asked, your voice playful but low, watching her as she searched.

Haewon shot you a quick glare, her cheeks burning brighter. “They were here! They couldn’t have just disappeared!” Her tone was exasperated but softened by the lingering flush of earlier.

Her hands continued to skim over the limited space, but after another minute, it was clear they were gone—lost somewhere in the heat of your earlier passion. A nervous laugh bubbled up from her as she stood, smoothing her skirt down again. Her hands paused against the fabric as she realized there was no time to keep searching.

“I guess I’m going without them,” she admitted in a quiet voice, her cheeks glowing as she avoided your gaze. The mix of embarrassment and exhilaration in her expression made you grin.

“You’ll be fine,” you reassured her, your tone warm but teasing as you placed your hands on her arms. “Besides,” you added with a smirk, “it’ll be our little secret.”

Haewon rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips. She adjusted her hair again with a shaky hand, though your earlier touch had already smoothed it into place. Her eyes flicked toward the door, her nervous energy returning as she cracked it open.

Just as she was about to step out, she hesitated, turning back toward you. Her cheeks flushed deeper, her lips curving into a shy, almost hesitant smile. You reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before leaning in to press a quick but tender kiss to her lips. It was brief, yet filled with warmth and reassurance, a silent promise that lingered as her lips parted slightly beneath yours.

When you pulled back, her eyes softened, the nervous energy in her frame easing slightly. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice quiet and filled with meaning.

“Always,” you replied just as softly, your hand brushing against her arm before she turned back toward the door.

She peeked out, glancing left and right to ensure the coast was clear, before stepping out into the aisle. Her stride was careful and measured, though her legs still trembled slightly beneath the polished professionalism of her steps. Her face was flushed, her hair still slightly a mess despite your attempts to fix it, and her lips retained the faint swelling of your kisses. Beneath her composed demeanor, the absence of her panties and the slickness between her thighs teased her with every step, a constant reminder of the intimacy you’d just shared.

You lingered for a moment, adjusting your cuffs and belt before stepping into the aisle yourself. Your gaze immediately sought Haewon, who was already walking ahead with a subtle confidence that belied the faint tremor in her legs. Her eyes met yours for the briefest of moments, a knowing spark passing between you that only deepened the warmth lingering in your chest.

As you resume your duties, the hum of the cabin returns to fill the air, but the quiet connection between you remains, a secret woven into the fabric of your stolen moment in the skies.

-----

After the plane had landed, Haewon moved to her place by the exit, ready to thank the passengers as they deplaned. It was a routine she had done countless times before—bowing, offering polite words, and smiling—but today, every movement carried an undercurrent of thrill. With each graceful bow, she became acutely aware of the warmth between her thighs, the undeniable sensation of your essence still inside her. Each slight pull of gravity as she bent forward sent a slick, teasing reminder of your earlier passion, and she fought to keep her expression neutral.

The sensation was impossible to ignore. As she straightened each time, she could feel it shift within her, threatening to escape, a subtle but constant tease that made her cheeks flush and her steps slightly more measured. The absence of her panties only heightened the awareness, the cool air beneath her skirt brushing against her skin, amplifying the delicious sense of exposure.

Each “thank you” and polite smile was laced with the secret she carried—the memory of your hands gripping her waist, your lips trailing over her neck, the way her body had clung to yours in the cramped lavatory. Her heart raced as the passengers filed past, oblivious to the intimate connection she now carried. The sensation of your lingering presence made her hyper-aware of every subtle shift in her body, each movement a vivid reminder of what had transpired.

Finally, the last passenger stepped off the plane, leaving the cabin quiet save for the soft shuffle of the crew tidying up. Haewon exhaled deeply, a faint sheen of sweat glistening at her brow as she leaned briefly against the wall to steady herself. Her knees still felt weak, her legs trembling slightly beneath her polished composure. She pressed her thighs together, trying in vain to quell the sensation that only seemed to grow stronger in the silence.

You approached her then, your expression calm and professional as always, though the teasing glint in your eyes spoke volumes. As you drew nearer, Haewon’s breath hitched slightly, her body betraying her despite her best efforts to appear composed. The memory of your touch, of the closeness you had shared, was written in every glance, every subtle tilt of your head.

“You did great,” you murmured, your voice pitched low, meant only for her. The rich timbre of it sent a fresh shiver coursing through her. “Though I couldn’t help but notice that extra sway in your step.”

She turned to you with a playful smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief despite the warmth creeping into her cheeks. “It’s a bit hard to focus,” she replied, her tone laced with sultry teasing, “when I’m walking around with a little… souvenir from my favorite instructor.”

Your grin deepened, the heat behind your gaze barely masked by your composure. Leaning in slightly, your breath ghosted over her ear, warm and intoxicating. “You’ll have to come back for more lessons sometime,” you whispered, your words curling through her like a spark igniting.

“Oh, I plan to,” she said smoothly, her voice steady despite the fluttering excitement in her chest. Turning away, her hips swayed ever so slightly, a calculated movement that let you know she was fully aware of your lingering gaze.

The conclusion of the episode approached, and Haewon effortlessly shifted back into her on-camera persona. Her radiant smile lit up the space as the crew positioned the camera for her signature closing moment. It was time for her to receive her payment for completing the challenge.

You stepped into frame, handing her a sleek black envelope. The thick paper was cool against her fingers, and as they brushed yours in a fleeting but electric touch, her pulse quickened. Your eyes locked with hers briefly, and the subtle curve of your lips—a barely-there smile—made her heart skip a beat. It was a silent reminder of the secret only the two of you shared.

Turning to the camera with her usual playful grin, Haewon slipped her fingers into the envelope, preparing to retrieve her reward. But as her hand delved inside, her breath caught for just a fraction of a second. Alongside the crisp weight of folded bills was something soft and unmistakable: her panties. Still damp, intimate, and undeniably deliberate.

As she pulled the panties slightly closer, the faint but unmistakable scent of the money mingled with hers, wafting subtly into her senses. The blend of clean linen bills and the warm, musky reminder of her own arousal sent a fresh wave of heat racing through her. Her eyes flicked briefly toward you, catching the faintest curve of your lips, the smallest glint of mischief in your gaze.

She noticed, stuck to the crotch of the fabric, a small sticky note that had absorbed some of her arousal. The faint ink of your handwriting was still visible, the note bearing nothing more than your phone number. Her cheeks flushed deeper, the intimate touch making her heart race, though her composure didn’t falter. With a practiced ease, she slipped the envelope—and its contents—into her pocket, her movements fluid and confident.

“Well, this was definitely the most fun I’ve ever had earning my paycheck,” she quipped to the camera, her voice steady even as her pulse raced.

The crew chuckled at her lighthearted remark, none the wiser to the true weight of her words. She turned back to the camera for her final moment, flashing a grin that was equal parts charm and mischief. “Looks like I’ve learned more than just safety procedures on this flight,” she said with a laugh, her delivery flawless, leaving the audience to wonder what secrets lay behind her words.

As the crew called a wrap, Haewon turned, stepping gracefully down the aisle and off the plane. Her pace was poised, her smile intact, but inside, her mind was a whirlwind. Every subtle movement reminded her of your hands, your breath, and the fire that had burned between you in the cramped lavatory.

Each step was a vivid reminder, the absence of her panties adding to the thrill as the sensation of your essence still inside her teased her with every bow and motion. She could feel it shift subtly, a lingering heat that made her cheeks burn and her chest tighten with the memory of your closeness.

As she descended the jet bridge, she slipped her hand into her pocket, her fingers brushing against the damp fabric tucked alongside the envelope. Her fingertips grazed the sticky note, the faint smudges of her arousal making it more intimate than you likely intended. A rush of heat coursed through her at the tangible proof of your connection. She withdrew her hand, carefully adjusting her uniform as she glanced around to ensure no one was watching.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted you off-camera, leaning casually against the cabin doorway. Your calm demeanor belied the glint of mischief in your gaze. When her eyes met yours, you gave her a subtle wink—a fleeting gesture that sent her heart racing all over again.

Once she was alone in a quiet corner of the terminal, Haewon exhaled deeply, her thoughts still spinning from everything that had happened. She glanced around to ensure she had privacy before stepping into a staff lounge to change out of her uniform.

Peeling off the polished exterior of her flight attendant persona, she let the neatly pressed pieces fall away, leaving her bare under the soft light of the room. Her reflection in the mirror caught her eye, her cheeks still flushed, her hair slightly tousled. As she stared at herself, a glimmer of boldness sparked in her mind, her heart pounding at the thought that took hold.

Her fingers brushed over the scarf that still hung around her neck, the same one you had adjusted for her earlier. Loosening it slightly, she let the ends drape down over her chest, framing her bare skin in a way that felt both daring and intimate. The soft fabric teased the curves of her breasts and the line of her hips. The undone scarf added an air of playful confidence, the perfect balance of teasing and boldness.

Reaching for her phone, she pulled out the sticky note with your number, her lips curving into a small smile. Entering the digits carefully, she paused for a moment, considering what to name the contact. After a brief flicker of thought, she added: ✈️🥵.

Lifting her phone, she angled herself in the mirror, capturing every detail. The undone scarf hung loosely on both sides of her neck, framing the faint marks you’d left on her delicate skin. Her bare shoulders, the curve of her waist, and the contours of her breasts and lower section were bathed in the soft light of the room. Her expression tied it all together—a sultry, mischievous smile, her gaze filled with an undeniable spark of boldness.

Her heart raced as she typed out a message.

See you soon

She hit send and let the thrill of what she’d done wash over her. With a deep breath, she reached for a soft hoodie from her bag. Pulling it over her head, she felt the fabric settle against her skin. Tugging the hood up, she let it fall around her face, a subtle shield for the marks on her neck.

Satisfied that her secret was safely hidden, she took one last look in the mirror. Her reflection, now casual and relaxed, masked the fire still smoldering beneath the surface.

As she stepped out of the lounge, her strides were steady, every step carrying a sense of empowerment. When she exited into the warm afternoon air, she smiled to herself. The message had been sent, the connection made. Whatever came next, she was ready.

[gemini-enthusiast]

Just a few days ago, NASA decommissioned NEOWISE. A type of space telescope, NEOWISE is less well-known than some of its siblings but equally as important. Its mission began in 2009 to map the night sky using infrared, a task it completed with incredible skill. Once its infrared scanner could no longer be used for mapping, it was then turned to our solar system, scanning for near-earth objects that could potentially pose a threat to our planet.

NEOWISE detected and mapped tens of thousands of objects within our solar system, including several hundred near-earth objects which were identified for the first time by NEOWISE. One of the objects it discovered was a comet which researchers named after the telescope itself. Some of you may have seen the comet NEOWISE as it passed by earth in 2020.

Due to increases in solar activity, the surveyor NEOWISE is now falling out of orbit, and will likely burn up in the atmosphere later this year.

Seen here is the last photograph it took before it was turned off for the final time:

Sources/Further reading: Smithsonian, NASA, Caltech

[auspicioustidings]

I love your work! May I please request ghost finding a captured civilian in an enemy base and taking her for himself?

Ah little posessive freak Ghost my beloved <3 I didn't know if you were looking for fluff or twisted Simon so I've leant towards the latter!

CW: Attempted rape (non-graphic), kidnapping

They had been warned there were going to be civillians in the building, but it wasn't the first time Ghost had to work around hostages to get the job done. It was an understanding on the team that whereever possible it wasn't going to be the huge fucker in the skull mask who dealt with that side of things. If they knew where hostages were being kept, that's where they sent Gaz or Johnny or even Price to settle them and get them out. Not the Ghost.

And that was working smoothly once again. Gaz had radioed in saying he found where they were being kept, had taken out their guards and would wait for the all clear for an exit route for the handful of doubtless terrified little civilians looking at him like he was the second coming for saving them.

They were all accounted for and that always made Ghost feel some tension bleed away. The last thing he needed to be worrying about was hostage situations.

The rest of the mission was easy enough, taking out any enemies and finding the saferoom to snoop around in for intel. It was laughably easy to get into. Saferooms only really worked if the person who knew the code didn't spill it at the first little twist of an arm, the press of a knife against their throat. They only worked if they were used. But obviously playing at warlord the man was arrogant, thought he could easily take on whoever came at him. Idiot. The moment he had the code, Ghost had no more use for him until he could get him somewhere for a proper interrogation, so he was smacked in the skull with a pistol and out cold. His fingerprints and eye scanner worked just fine even with him unconcious and the code he had given beeped with a green light and the click of a lock.

It was a damn good thing that you assumed it was your captor coming in and so were aiming the cast iron at where his face would be. Instead it smacked into the tactical vest of a much taller man. You hissed and spat and fought like a feral cat when the man immediately reacted by grabbing your wrist and twisting so you cried out and dropped the pan. There went your weapon, there wasn't much else to use in this little safe room but for the small implements in the kitchen and you hadn't felt confident with a knife. A blunt object with a larger surface area had felt like a better bet.

"Don't fucking touch me! I'll claw your fucking eyes out!" you spat out at what you were sure was a bloody monster.

You had been a victim of wrong place wrong time about 12 hours prior. You had broken down on a stretch of road that barely got any use and had fuck all phone signal to get help, so were at the mercy of someone passing by. Just your luck the someone passing by was some slimy asshole with a compound nearby he thought to drag you to. He had found out quickly he wasn't getting his hands on you without a fight. You were a bit of a mess, shirt torn and what you suspected was a cracked orbital bone from where he had punched you after you bit his tongue. You wished you had bit fucking harder.

The only thing that had saved you in the end was the alarm going off. The man had thrown you into the safe room, telling you that once he had dealt with whoever dared break into his base he was going to fuck you bloody. You'd kill him before he got the chance. You'd fucking kill him before all this adrenaline fuelled fight turned into fear and had you accepting your fate.

The monster in the skull mask didn't have the laugh of a monster. It was gruff but there was something very genuine about it. He had his hands on both of your wrists, locking them so you couldn't scratch at him with yout body pulled right into him so you couldn't kick either. Your wrists were pinned at your chin so you couldn't even bite at him. Didn't much stop you from fighting, trying to just drop all of your weight to get him off balance. The added weight did not phase him in the slightest.

"Settle sweetheart, I'm the good guy."

"Do good guys often wear skull masks?!" you hissed back, still struggling to no avail.

He manouvered so that you could see out of the doorway and to the passed out man on the floor.

"They do when they're going after bad guys."

It was like all the adrenaline had finally burned off at right that moment and you felt yourself go boneless in his hold, fight gone. You had a sick moment of being disappointed that you could see that the man was still breathing.

"We sure all the civilians are accounted for?"

You felt a little dazed as you squinted back at him before realising he must have been speaking on the radio. Whatever he heard back must have been interesting because he looked at you, considering, before twisted the little dial to another channel.

"Got a stray, let's keep it out of the reports."

Simon knew that the 141 would back him up. After all, him and the Seargants had always admired the relationship between Price and his wife even if when they first met she kept trying to murder him. She had grown out of it after a few years.

And Simon had never felt like this before. He thought you truly would have killed him if you had been able when he opened the door. It was love at first murder attempt for him.

He cooed at you and comforted you the whole way through exfil. It wasn't until you realised that you couldn't leave that it really started getting fun.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Where Heroes Flew

When Florelia had gone to work today she had expected it to be a day like any other. She’d man her post in orbital control, direct cargo traffic from the spaceport on the surface of the planet to the orbital lanes in the upper atmosphere, and then head to her quarters for the night and binge some trans-system entertainment. She was hoping to catch some of the Dorgan Finals being played out on the surface. The matches had drawn in close to a billion offworlders to the event and was the largest gathering seen on Zenbara in decades.

She was just about to get up for her designated lunch break when she noticed something odd on her tracking monitor. One of the inbound ships was bypassing the waiting que for reentry and was attempting to skip ahead of the waiting ships for reentry.

Putting her headset back on, Florelia flipped through the communication channels until she had the channel for the marked ship.

“Inbound vessel DCN4, return to your position in que.” She transmitted.

No response.

“Inbound vessel DCN4, this is orbital control; return to your position in que immediately.”

Florelia wondered if the ships communicator was broken, but before she could call up an engineer to confirm the inbound vessel suddenly increased speed and began blowing past the que of waiting ships.

“DCN4 cut engines and respond immediately, this is your final warning.”

“You were given many warnings,” a strange voice came back, “and now we are the culmination of all your sins. We are the children of Nu’n and in his name we shall punish the nonbelievers and cleanse them from this universe.”

As the voice continued delivering their speech Florelia ran a scan of DCN4 to confirm its cargo. When the scan came back her eyes went wide and she slammed her fist into the panic button built into her console. Sirens began blaring as her supervisor came over as Florelia opened a direct line to orbital security.

“Security, apprehend ship DCN4 now!” Florelia shouted into her transmitter.

“What’s wrong?” her supervisor asked as he came up to her finally. Florelia turned to let him see her screen.

“I believe DCN4 is under the control of terrorist elements and is loaded with over 900 thousand tons of Genthi explosives.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth did her supervisor tap his com piece in his ear and shout, “Security move your asses now! Grab DCN4 and bring it to a halt.”

Entering in his command codes he then addressed the entire line of waiting ships still in que.

“Attention all vessels, evacuate the area immediately. Divert courses away from lane 71-93; repeat, all vessels evacuate the area immediately!”

Florelia watched on her scanner as the security ships left the station. She watched as they pushed their engines to the max to catch up to the rogue vessel but even at max speed they wouldn’t be able to catch it in time. Calculating the trajectory, the computer predicted that the terrorists were steering themselves directly towards the Dorgan Finals stadium on the planet below.

“Should we issue an evacuation for the stadium?” she asked her supervisor. To her surprise he shook his head.

“It wouldn’t matter. With that much explosives it’ll turn everything within a 500km radius into the world’s largest crater.”

Florelia couldn’t speak as the horror of the situation set in. The devastation about to unfold would be the worst terrorist attack in the known universe.

A sudden beep from her console made Florelia look back and see that while many of the other civilian vessels were scattering one ship had begun moving towards the terrorist ship.

“What in the niv’nar….”

Florelia brought up the information about the secondary contact and saw it was a human mining ship designated the “Jackdaw”.

“Orbital control to human vessel Jackdaw, what are you doing?” Florelia asked as she realigned the transmitter to communicate to the human ship. “You have been instructed to evacuate the area.”

“I thought about it,” A young cheerful voice came back over the radio, “but my pappy taught me that when a robber comes at you you don’t show them the door; you show them your arm.”

Not understanding what the human was talking about she looked up to see the live camera feeds being displayed on the main monitors. DCN4 was long and narrow, while the human Jackdaw was bulky and looked as if it had been welded together with scrap metal.

It looked as if the Jackdaw was going to block DCN4 but as soon as the cargo ship drew close the mining ship ignited its engines and lazily drifted above the cargo vessel as it blew by. As it passed underneath the mining ship Florelia watch as a dozen compartments opened up on the mining ship and grappling arms the size corvettes shot out and latched on to DCN4.

The arms soon went taut and the Jackdaw ignited its engines to full in a dazzlingly bright display of light.

Like a fisherman wrangling a mighty sea creature, the Jackdaw tried to pull the terrorist ship back into orbit and give the security ships a chance to disable the vessel before it could carry out its task. Every set of eyes in the control room was locked to the main monitor as the DCN4 engines burned brighter and the ship veered left and right to try and shake off the Jackdaw.

The security ships had almost made it to DCN4 when several of the grappling arms tore away chunks of DCN4’s hull. Each of the security ships swung to avoid the debris but were struck by the whiplash of the grappling arms and exploded in a cloud of burnt metal. To the horror of orbital control one of the grappling arms swung back and damaged a few of the Jackdaw’s engines as well.

With renewed fervor the terrorist ship began plunging once more into the atmosphere with the Jackdaw still holding on with what few grappling arms remained. Though it refused to let go of the terrorist ship, it was a struggle it could not win.

“Orbital control to Jackdaw, you’ve done everything you can; disengage and get out of there.” Florelia transmitted to the Jackdaw.

“Not everything,” came the reply over the radio, “I got one last trick up my sleeve.”  

Florelia was going to ask what they meant when the Jackdaw began retracting the grappling arms while they still held on to DCN4. Slowly the arms pulled the two vessels closer and closer together as new energy warning sirens started off.

“That crazy bastard’s going to make a jump.” Florelia heard her supervisor say in disbelief.

“Jackdaw, if you attempt to make a jump in orbit-“ Florelia began but the human captain cut her off.

“It’s the last trick I got to play lassie.” They said in their chipper tone.

“There’s no guarantee you’ll make it out of the jump intact.” She persisted. “No ship has ever withstood a jump while in a gravity well.”

“First time for everything I suppose.”

The two ships were nearly touching hulls as the Jackdaw’s jump drive neared full power.

“Why are you doing this? You don’t know this world or these people; why give your life for them?”

To her surprise the human captain laughed over the coms.

“When someone’s in trouble you don’t stop to ask for details, you just help them.”

With that the two ships hulls finally touched and the Jackdaw ignited its jump drive. For a moment both ships blurred in and out of the atmosphere as DCN4 desperately tried to free itself from the mining ship’s grasp.

In a final bright flash the two ships made the jump out of the atmosphere, leaving behind a trail of scrap metal that slowly burned away as it fell to the planet below. To the public below it looked as if a series of elaborate fireworks were going off to celebrate the day’s events while those in orbit held a silent vigil for the unknown human captain who had just saved billions of lives.

For all the barbarity the human race has been known for it was easy to forget that there were still those amongst their people who would lay down their lives for strangers without ever needing a word of thanks.  

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Liz, Biotechnician

Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Vending Machine whirred softly as it produced the 5th candy bar in a row. It’d been a week since the science division had turned into a chocolate factory, but Liz wasn’t that worried. Coco didn’t have a chemical makeup that could be affected by diabetic amounts of sugar. The opposite, in fact, the little Sprygan was doing better than ever, and wasn’t so little anymore. Just like plants on Earth, botanical lifeforms needed glucose to grow, and apparently when given daily supplements of the stuff, their growth rate accelerated at frightening speeds.

Liz walked back to the lab, with a hearty Halloween’s worth of candy bars in her hands and pockets. Some crewmen gave her odd looks as she passed, but she paid them little mind. The door to the lab opened with a quick hiss.

“So we got milk, dark, white with macadamia nuts, and… what are you doing?”

Coco was standing in the center of the room, their new fuller branches seemingly vibrating. Liz thought they looked excited. The same Coco, who at the time when the mission began, was at best maybe 3 feet tall, now stood almost 5 1/2 feet in height and had a significantly thicker trunk. They were about as big as Liz was herself now, with a thicker canopy in the beginnings of bloom. They leaned in Liz’s direction, vines trembling.

“I just got a message from the bridge. There’s a uncharted planetoid in this system with a moon that might have breathable atmosphere, and they want a full ecological report written up.”

“So we’re going down there?”

“Correct! It’ll take 2 cycles to get there, but then it’s all ours!”

Liz was overjoyed! Finally, some actual field work instead of editing someone else’s papers all day. A whole new ecosystem with god knows how many new species… if it had atmosphere, of course.

Can’t get too excited yet girl, Liz thought.

“Does the moon have water?” She asked.

“Indeed.”

That’s a real good sign though, she figured.

“Can I have my chocolate now please?” Coco asked.

“Oh right, yeah, here you go,” Liz said, setting the bars on the table. Coco’s vines reached out and snatched them, taking them back into their canopy to be the plant equivalent of ‘digested’. The usual humming started up as they enjoyed their snacks. Liz wasn’t sure, but she thought she could see bark physically forming on their trunk now, or perhaps it was simply a discoloration.

“You’re sure this much sugar is good for you hon?” Liz asked, concern slowly winning out over scientific curiosity.

“The thing you call cocoa seeds are not plentiful on my planet, so I’m unsure if any Sprygan has ever had this much in such a short period of time, but I’ve never had so much energy before. My growth rate is miraculous, I’m almost completely out of my juvenile sapling stage now.”

“And that’s a… good thing?”

“Very. Saplings on my planet are the easier targets for predators. With a harder outer layer I’ll be much safer now. I’ve been composing a paper on this for days, it’ll be of great significance to Spryga.” Coco continued humming, ‘munching’ away on her candy bars.

“Well alright then, so long as you’re okay,” Liz said. “So tell me more about this moon.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Deep in the Antares System, hidden from scanners by the solar radiation of the tertiary star, was a desolate little rock burnt to a crisp by stellar winds during a flare eons ago. Its moon, however, was protected from the fire while in the shadow of the planet. And so it continued to turn, with barely a few degrees changed, undisturbed.

Until now.

The Noah entered the system from WARP, keeping a safe distance from the tertiary star in case of solar flares, and settled into a comfortable orbit around the planetoid to scout the surface of the nearby moon, now being called MX13.

From the Bridge, Liz and Coco read the initial scans from various probes launched when they’d arrived.

“Gravity reads…damn, big moon,” Liz said, surprised, “9.1, just a little under galactic and Earth standard.”

“Gas spectrometer reads as breathable atmosphere to 70% of known intelligent lifeforms,” Coco read on, “but not humans. You’ll have to wear a mask Human Liz.”

“What’s the chemical makeup like?” Liz asked.

“95% methane… similar to what you call Titan in your Terran home system. Without a mask you’d have a few minutes at best before you suffocated.”

“So yeah, rebreathers are fashionable this time of year,” Liz laughed. Even the idea of suffocating in a potentially hostile ecosystem wasn’t enough to bring her spirits down. It had been ages since she’d set foot on extraterrestrial soil.

“Ahem,” grunted Skitch, as much as a bipedal bug man could go ‘ahem’ with mandibles.

“What does fashionable mean?” Coco asked quietly.

“I’ll tell you later,” Liz whispered.

Captain Skitch had been waiting off to the side for a while now while they geeked out over the moon.

“Now then,” he said, arms behind his thorax stoically, “in six rels[?] [GAIL standard term: 1 rel approximately 1 earth hour(s)] we’re sending a shuttle down to the moon to conduct the requested ecological report. Our main objective is to see if there are any lifeforms, intelligent or otherwise, living there. If it is deemed uninhabited, we’re to declare whether or not it could become a potential colony for GAIL member races.”

Liz was almost painfully excited. Uncharted habitats, potentially establishing a colony, this is what she worked 6 years in the academy for, what she lived for.

“Sir, what are we supposed to do if we do come across any lifeforms down there?” She asked.

“You know the rules. On the off chance you come across anyone intelligent, you do not get involved, you do not get seen. We’re here to record the natural evolution of the universe, nothing more.”

“There’s very little chance of that,” Coco chimed in, “the first scans of the surface are being analyzed, there doesn’t seem to be any structure of any kind on the surface, so it’s unlikely we’ll come across any sentient species.”

“On the off chance you do have an encounter, I’m assigning commander Koatil to the landing party. She’ll be in charge of everything, and has my full authority to make any judgment call she sees fit.”

As if on cue, First officer Koatil made the bridge, her thermal suit fitted with extra armor for the expedition, hiding her powder blue fur. It seemed to Liz she’d freshly sharpened the horns on top of her head as well. She’d always figured they looked like rams horns, and thought how interesting it was that Doun women were the only ones with horns in their species.

“Good to meet you both,” Koatil said. “I’m sure this’ll go smoothly for all of us, just stick with the group and everything will be fine. Permission to depart, Captain?”

“Granted.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Noah’s shuttle bay was about the size of Liz’s old high school gymnasium, vaulted ceiling and wide open space, plenty of room for the three docked shuttles. Commander Koatil stood nearby, doing her final check as bay staff loaded the shuttle with cases of the scientific instruments they’d use to analyze the moon’s ecosystem.

Liz and Coco, along with the shuttle pilot and 2 other security personnel, stood ready to board at the commander’s say. She inspected the crew going down to the moon with them. The pilot seemed fine, even had two more arms to steer, so that was reassuring, but it was the security personnel that caught her attention. If Liz was seeing it right, the two were not on friendly terms with each other. The first one, an Indoprime, was standing at an awkward distance from the other guard, a Sed man. Neither spoke to the other, the Indoprime even slightly leaning away from the Sed, who stared straight ahead and said nothing. Both had plasma pistols on their belts, as well as upper armor over their uniforms. Liz was going to be severely disheartened if they messed up the ‘roadtrip’ she’d been waiting for.

Commander Koatil handed the pad to one of the crewmen and made her way to them at the shuttle.

“All aboard to MX13,” she said, resting her big paw on the pistol on her hip as she climbed in the door. The rest of them, Liz and Coco, the pilot, and the security personnel followed behind her. The door sealed shut behind them.

Liz took her seat, helping to secure Coco in theirs. The buckles weren’t well suited to thumbless species. She’d made sure the belts didn’t dislodge their own pistols from their holsters. Having a rogue plasma shot in here wouldn’t end well.

Buttons were pressed, dials turned, something that looked like a cup holder was pulled out of the dash, and the shuttle came to life.

“Shuttle Alpha, you are clear for departure.”

“Acknowledged,” replied the pilot.

The hangar doors opened, leaving behind the gas mesh, a thin blue wall of light to keep the air in the room from exploding into the void. Their shuttle passed through it easily, heading into open space.

“Haven’t seen this view for a while,” Liz said. Sure, of course there were windows on the ship, but it felt different in a shuttle. Like the void was just a hair’s width away from her now, waiting for her.

“My sensory receptors can’t make out anything but the shuttle,” Coco said, “could you describe it to me?” Coco’s leaves were shaking slightly, so Liz reached out and put a hand on their branch. The shaking calmed.

“Well first it’s just the sheer amount of stars,” Liz said quietly, “like a million points of light. There’s a nebula about 12,000 light years away off the port side that looks like butterfly wings if you squint… if you look at it right. Coco, I can’t express it right, the moon looks beautiful.”

“Human Liz, I’m jealous of you. Seeing in the visible spectrum must been so interesting.”

“Well what does the world around you look like? What do you perceive?”

“Well as you know, my branches have a sensory function to detect my surroundings, vibrations, light, even sensations in a way. But I don’t know how one would compare our two sensory experiences.”

“Your communicator is built into your brain isn’t it?” Liz asked. “Couldn’t it be adjusted to send sensory signals to your mind as well?”

“It’s possible, but the technology isn’t developed yet,” Coco explained. Liz looked at her a moment.

“Think we could fix that? I’d hate for my best friend to miss this view for their whole life.”

Coco didn’t say anything to that. She just listened as Liz described the universe around them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Boosters fired.

Air brakes deployed.

Shuttle Alpha landed safely on the moon MX13.

The landing party filed out, and except for Coco, everyone decided against the worst case scenario and wore respirators. It wasn’t as bulky as Liz first thought, just a face mask with a line to a small air cleaner on her belt. Coco was the only one who didn’t need to breathe, so they were totally fine.

Stepping off the shuttle onto the moon’s surface, Liz was surprised at the vegetation around them. Muddy purple grass bed the ground, surrounded by rocky patches across the valley where they’d landed. Off in the distance were what appeared to be trees, thick branchless trunks growing straight up, splitting into angular canopies. Liz brought her camera up and snapped a photo.

“Alright, spread out but try to stay in sight of the shuttle,” Koatil said over their radios. “I know we’re setting g sensors pretty far out, so if anyone gets into trouble out there, launch a flare and we’ll come get you. Grite! You’re with the science team, go with them.”

The Sed man, Grite, looked almost pained at the idea of tagging along with Liz and the Sprygan.

“Aye, commander.”

“Think you can help us carry the sensors?” Liz asked, hoping to break the ice. She already had 2 bags strapped to her back and another slung over her shoulder. Coco was too small to carry anything.

“You can carry your own supplies,” growled Grite, keeping his distance from them.

What a dick, Liz thought, shouldering another bag on her other arm. The sensors she was carrying were heavy, but she was still in high spirits. Field work! Hurray!

They must’ve walked for over a mile, planting sensors every few hundred feet in ‘places of interest’, namely places Liz and Coco thought looked cool or had neat vegetation or rock formations. They’d made their way into a swampy area, heading towards a line of hills in the distance.

Coco went off a ways to plant a sensor by a small marshy cove they’d detected. Grite followed behind Liz, glaring every time she looked back. She didn’t know what she’d done to annoy him so much, she’d just met the guy, but maybe she’d done something or said something offensive by alien standards.

Whatever, don’t need him for this, Liz thought. This is a brain mission, not a buff rock guy mission.

“Human Liz,” Coco called over the radio, “there’s a rocky area here, with a subterranean tunnel system.”

“Cool, moon caves,” Liz laughed. “I’ll be right there with the another sensor, just wait for me, okay?”

“There are these round stones here half buried in the soil, at the entrance,” they continued.

That made Liz pause a moment.

“Just one or two, or are they in a kind of a pile?”

Static.

“Coco? Talk to me hon, pile or no pile?”

Static still. A few pips and pops, followed by a squeal of feedback noise. Liz’s blood ran cold.

“-uman Liz-… predator-… help-…”

“Grite launch the flare now!” Liz yelled, dropping the bags to the ground before breaking out in a sprint. She stomped and lunged through a few hundred yards of marsh, quick as she could, hitting solid earth at a dead run. The Sed was either behind her or he wasn’t, Liz couldn’t think about that in the moment. She had a pistol herself, and while she may have been the science geek on the ship, her dad had made sure she knew how to use it.

She cleared the marsh and crested a small ridge line, following the trudging trail of the little Sprygan. There she saw the scene, Coco on their side, massive claw marks raked up their trunk, and what looked like a cross between a mountain lion and a gator, long snout and mouth with jagged teeth and a ‘feline’ body, muscled and lithe with a forked tail. The thing’s back was covered in ridged scales, while its limbs were bare, wrapped in fur and old battle scars.

FUCK, Liz thought. She pulled her pistol and shot energized plasma directly at its head, but it barely even burned it. Whatever this thing was made of, its skin was fire proof. Her translator crackled in her ear.

“-human Liz…-?”

Liz didn’t hesitate any further. She leapt from the ridge, landing on the creature’s back. She took the butt of her pistol and started slamming it on the back of the thing’s head, over and over again, before the creature bucked her off.

Liz fell hard, hitting her head and mask on the ground with a sickening crack. Gas started venting fast, there was an inch long crack in her visor now, a whole chuck of it missing, falling somewhere in the dirt. Somewhere above her hair line she must’ve been cut on the rocks, because blood was dripping down into her left eye.

Dimly she was aware that she was already dead, if her mask was broken then there was no way to get back to the shuttle before she suffocated. But that being said, she was going to fuck up this monster trying to eat her best friend before making her grand exit.

What a way to go, huh Liz? she imagined in her father’s voice. He’d be smiling in a situation like this. Liz grabbed the side of her broken mask and ripped it off, throwing it at the creature as it crouched in front of her. She took in a deep breath of ‘air’, filling her lungs, and screamed. Her legs bent into a crouch, her back tensed, she tasted blood in her mouth. Adrenaline poured into her veins, dulling the pain, giving her strength and funneling rage into the center of her brain. She had one job now.

“COME ON THEN YOU FUCKER, LETS FUCKING GO!”

Liz charged the creature, firing bolts of burning plasma as she went, praying that dick Grite was somewhere nearby ready to get Coco out of there while it was busy mauling her to death.

The creature shrugged off the pistol fire, pouncing on her, pinning her to the rocky ground. Stones and the alien’s claws dug into her sides and back. It opened its jaws wide, and Liz realized it meant to eat her head. Fuck this thing.

“You hungry you big bastard?! EAT THIS!”

Liz worked her arm free, the one still holding a death grip on her plasma pistol, and shoved it down the creature’s throat. Its teeth tore into her arm, screaming pain ripped up her side, and Liz never stopped pulling the trigger. The smell of burning filled the air as the creature squealed and whined, its body going limp as bodily fluid poured out its mouth. She didn’t stop, emptying the clip into its blown out organs. Finally the thing was quiet.

Liz didn’t even bother trying to pull her arm out of the alien’s mouth, the thing was ruined, and she was dying anyway. Between blood loss and asphyxiation, her vision was already fading to little pin pricks. With the last shred of consciousness, she let out one more howl, screaming into the air, before everything went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth Collins didn’t remember what happened after that. All she knew was she was sore all over and weirdly cold, which would make sense if she was just a corpse, but why did she hear… was that ABBA?

Please not an eternity of pop music, she thought sluggishly. Anything but that.

She struggled, oddly weightless, and tried to open her eyes but found they’d been bandaged shut.

Oh good, I’m alive, people hardly ever bandage dead people.

What about mummies?

Shut up, me.

She reached a hand out and touched something smooth and solid. She tried to tap her knuckles against it, but only got one good rap at it before her hand hurt too much. Thankfully it seemed that’s all she needed.

“Human Liz, are you conscious? How do you feel? Are you in discomfort?”

Oh good, Coco was alive too.

“Wait, no, don’t try to speak right now, you’re in the regeneration pod right now, in nano surgery. I’ll be right here when it’s over, return to being unconscious please.”

Oh, okay, sleep sounded good anyway. Night night, Coco.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s gonna be twitchy for a few cycles until it adjusts to your neural pathways, but it should feel just like the old one soon.”

One of the other humans, a woman named Jane Shaw who worked in med bay, had sat down with her earlier that morning to go over her… condition.

“We had to replace the lining of your lungs with a prosthetic mesh to keep them working,” she’d said, “you were out in that methane air for a while. If it hadn’t been for your Sprygan friend feeding you oxygen from their branches, you never would’ve made it.”

“I don’t think even they knew they could do that,” Liz had forced a laugh, coughing a bit. “Now, about my arm?”

“Completely scrapped. Whatever stomach acid that creature had, it melted your arm down to the bone. Can’t repair what isn’t there, I’m afraid.”

“I understand. Thanks, Doc.”

Well ain’t that something? Liz was effectively 15, maybe 20, percent cybernetic now. She told herself she’d trick out her new arm with all sorts of cool gadgets, making every effort to distract herself from the fact that she lost her right fucking arm.

“On the plus side,” she said quietly to herself as she walked toward the lab, “got another new project too.”

The door hissed open. And there was Coco, still as a tree, which she guessed made sense. She could barely see the claw marks on their trunk now, but wished she couldn’t at all. She should’ve been faster.

“Human Liz?”

“What’s up hon, you miss me?”

It’d been three days since the landing party had come back with her bleeding out in the shuttle, three days since she’d gotten to relax in their shared lab. She tapped the new glass enclosure where the eggs they’d gathered were incubating, the sign on the side saying ‘these eggs cost an arm and a leg!’ Apparently Chief Ducane had gone down there to gather what equipment could be salvaged and decided they’d be worth something to the science team. Maybe he thought he was being funny, Liz didn’t know. She did chuckle a little. Just a little.

“Human Liz, you are… okay now, yes? The reconstruction…” Coco’s leaves were shaking.

“Come on Coco, you know me, I’m totally fine! See?” Liz held up her new chrome arm, the new metallic fingers twitching at odd angles.

“That’ll stop in a few cycles, Doctor Shaw said so.”

“Human Liz, why did you do that?” Coco stood stock still in the center of the lab.

“Do what hon?”

“Why did you risk your existence[?] [life] to help me? That is not what we do on Spryga.”

Liz blinked a few times.

“Well that sucks, you all just let people get knocked off there?”

“Yes, in order to maintain the bulk of the colony.”

“Well this isn’t Spryga, Coco, and you’re my friend, of course I was gonna come get you, you asked for my help!”

“I should not have!”

Liz sat down and took a breath. This would be weird and awkward for everyone in the room who wasn’t an egg.

“You asked for my help, and I’m sorry, but I give a shit about you, and yeah, it cost me an arm and some lungs, but I was going to save you. So can you relax about it now? I mean damn, you’re my best friend, I wasn’t gonna leave you out there!”

“I don’t know what that means!”

“Yeah you do. It means exactly what you think it does. That I’m coming to get you, whether you like it or not. We’ve only known each other three weeks on this boat, but you got yourself a very attached human who’ll make sure you live, got it?”

Coco was quiet a moment. Their branches started shaking again.

“I’m very very sorry you lost a branch[?] [limb] because of me,” they said quietly.

“It’s okay hon, I wasn’t mad at you about that. I’m just glad that Grite guy launched the flare so the shuttle could come get us.”

“Grite did not set off any flares,” Coco said, confused. “After you had killed the predator, I fired one into the sky before giving you oxygen from my leaves.”

Oh I’m gonna kill that guy with my new robo arm, Liz thought.

Back burner that for now.

“So yeah, hugs and kisses, make ups all around, love you too Coco,” Liz said, using her flesh hand to brush away the stale air between them. “You wanna help me trick out my arm? I was thinking a laser pointer and a universal remote control, what do you think?”

“I think you should be focused more on rehabilitation. From my research on lifeforms like humans, you require an extensive amount of time to recover from injuries this severe. It’s actually amazing, any other race would’ve been permanently incapacitated in similar situations.”

“Yeah, humans are weird huh? Perks of evolution on a deathworld like Earth.” She tried laughing again, dissolving into a coughing fit. Coco stood watching her. Liz could feel concern mixed with just a hint of judgment.

“Okay, yeah, I got rehab scheduled every other cycle after the shift is over,” Liz admitted.

“Good,” they said, content. “If my… best friend, is not functioning properly, I would be distressed.”

Liz smiled.

“And yes, I would most enjoy retrofitting your new branch[?] [limb]. We could make it… fashionable is the word, yes?”

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 6:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Jealousy. Canon violence.

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

The mission was simple.

You stood, picking at a loose splinter of wood beneath the bar, leaning on the counter as Cid explained the objective.

“Just remember I need that asset undamaged or you ain’t gettin’ paid.” She said, taking care to emphasize ‘undamaged’ as she shot a glare towards Wrecker, “That means no blowing it up, Muscles.”

“Hey! That was one time and it wasn’t my fault!”

Cid rolled her eyes, “Regardless. I want you in and out. Grab the staff and get outta there before the gang even realizes you’re there. You better not lead anything back to me. I can’t afford any more trouble around here. Especially with you lot.”

Hunter bristled but remained silent. It was a testament to his willpower that he hadn't yet told her off for the blatant disrespect she showed towards them.

You'd think she'd be more reasonable since we're the ones making all her money here, you thought, then sighed, but then again, we don't have much of a choice and she knows it.

Hunter pulled his pack over his shoulders and signaled the group to head out, not missing how quickly you turned away, not meeting his eyes.

***

The Marauder lay in quiet flight as it hurdled through hyperspace - the silence only broken by Wrecker's occasional comments and Omega’s responding laughter. Tech lay asleep on his bunk and Echo tinkered with something in the back. If it were any other day - any other time - it would've been peaceful. An oasis of relaxed preparation before the chaos of a mission.

Now the silence hung taught - stretched and pulled uncomfortably over the atmosphere. It was stifling. Stale.

Part of you longed for that normalcy - to take advantage of this time to go over strategies with Hunter, mapping out the best course of action, listening to his baritone words coaching you to think outside the box.

He was sitting right there beside you across the cockpit.

Say something, you begged silently. Anything. Ask me to stay and I will.

But no one made a sound.

Hunter sat stiffly in his chair staring directly ahead.

You sighed, pulling your feet up onto the chair, resting your chin on your knees, hugging your shivering bones.

Had space always been so cold?

Hunter shifted in his seat. You wondered if he could hear how your heart raced, desperate to relieve the tension in the room. He was staring at you again. You could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head.

He took a breath as if he'd finally decided to say something and you glanced up meeting his eyes.

The proximity alert went off as the ship snapped into orbit, shaking Tech from his slumber as he stumbled to his feet.

Hunter stood up - whatever he had to say was gone in a flash of professional duty. Time to do the job.

***

The ship landed smoothly on the landing pad - courtesy of Cid’s given coordinates.

“Alright, let's see what we're dealing with.” Echo said.

Hunter nodded in agreement, “Tech, how's it coming with that scanner?”

“Almost done.” He replied, fingers moving quickly over dials and screens.

“Good.”

Hunter pulled his pack on and straightened the bandana over his forehead.

“Alright, Echo you'll scomp in and locate the treasure vault. Tech you need to splice into their systems and deactivate any security systems they may have in place. Wrecker and I will keep a lookout and take care of any trouble that comes our way.” He glanced at Wrecker, “Quietly.”

Wrecker grumbled as he rolled his eyes.

Then Hunter turned to you. “I need you and Omega to stay here and keep watch. We don't know much about what we're walking into, so we need to be prepared to make a quick getaway if we have to. Got it?”

You nodded and Omega jumped to her feet. “Yes sir!”

***

Of course he doesn't trust me. You thought bitterly. He put me on babysitting duty.

A burst of regret tore from your chest as you watched her.

Omega hung upside down on a rock just outside the ship, fiddling with her trooper doll and a toy shuttle that Echo had found for her - oblivious to your traitorous thoughts.

You sighed, feeling the shame darken your cheeks.

You can't take your problems out on a kid, your inner voice scolded. Omega didn't deserve to be caught up in the middle of whatever this was.

“Heads up,” Hunter’s voice sounded through the coms, yanking you from a bored stupor, “You’ve got hostiles coming in fast.”

Omega looked over to you, eyes wide as she processed the information. She took a breath and nodded, keeping eye contact with you, lips settling in a grim determination. She unslung the bow from her back.

“Copy that,” she responded, “We’ll be ready.”

“Negative.” Hunter’s curt response came back immediately. “Do not engage. Get back on the Marauder and take off.”

You all but grabbed the com from Omega. “But what about you!?”

Silence. “We’ve been compromised.”

Omega snatched the com back defiantly, eyes narrowing in concern. “We’re not leaving you!”

“That’s an order!” Hunter hissed, keeping his voice low.

“No. Omega’s right. We’re not leaving here without you!” The com was once again in your hand.

“Listen to me!” Hunter snapped, “Get Omega out of there now! We can handle this on - “ The message cut off in a garble of static and shouting.

“Hunter!” Omega grabbed the com again in a desperate attempt to get him back. “Hunter, come in! I repeat, come in!”

Nothing.

Omega looked at you, wide eyed, shoulder’s bobbing up and down as she breathed, processing the situation.

Your head shot up. Muffled footsteps - voices echoing in the distance, carried on the wind. Gruff and unforgiving in a boastful confidence.

“Kriffing shit…” you hissed under your breath, grabbing Omega’s arm as you ran back to the ship.

“What are you doing!” Omega tried to yank her arm from your grip as you dragged her up the ramp, “They need our help! We can’t leave them!”

“Shhh!” you commanded, boosting her up into the storage hatch before clamoring up behind her.

“No!” she struggled, “We’re a squad! A family!”

A pang of hurt speared through your gut. Not me. Not anymore.

“We don’t leave our own behind!” she said adamantly, glaring daggers of betrayal and confusion at you.

Hunter’s words.

She looked up to him, constantly and unconsciously copying his mannerisms and ideals.

Hunter doesn’t trust you. The antagonizing voice of your subconscious snapped. That’s why he left you here with the kid. You’re just an asset. A body. But maybe you could be more than that. Maybe, upon rescuing them, the team would see you differently. Hunter would see you differently.

You sighed, “We’re not leaving, but we’re no help to them if we’re dead or captured.”

She nodded silently, relief palatable on her young face. Sometimes it was easy to forget that she was only 12 years old.

Is it selfish to want to prove yourself as more than just a useful tool?

Omega crouched by the closed hatch at her feet, bow in her hands, mimicking your own stance as you poised for action, blaster in hand.

Footsteps thudded up the ramp, carelessly clattering through the cockpit.

“Find anything?” one of them called out to his companion.

“Nah… there’s nobody here.” Another crash as he dumped a chest, “Nothin’ good here neither.”

Another clanging slam as another trunk was forced open. A loud chuckle came from a third voice.

“Ha! Hey, come get a load a this! The boss is gonna like this one!”

More footsteps, “Holy shit! Who keeps an entire trunk full of thermal detonators beside their bunk?”

“No clue, but they’ll go for a ton on the black market.”

“...and why is there a kriffing stuffed cat inside a trunk of thermal detonators?”

You side-eyed Omega.

“Ohh… that’s where I put her…” she whispered to herself, relieved that she no longer had to figure out a way to tell Wrecker that she lost his Lula.

“Whatever man, just grab the detonators and let’s go. This place stinks.”

“Yeah what a bunch of losers.”

Omega’s grip tightened on her bow, face contorting in anger as if she was ready to jump down and give the thieves a piece of her mind.

You placed a hand on her knee and slowly shook your head. Not yet.

“We are not losers!” she whispered harshly, insulted that the thieves had insulted her team - her family.

But not yours. You grit your teeth bitterly.

Once you were sure the offenders were gone, the hatched hissed open and you jumped down, catching Omega as she jumped.

“Okay, what’s the plan?” she looked at you expectantly. You nodded, practiced mind already running through various scenarios.

“We’ll track those thugs back to the compound. They have to be holding Hunter and the others there somewhere.”

Omega nodded solemnly. “Good plan. And then when we get there, I’ll keep a lookout while you search for a way in!”

“Right. Just follow my lead and stay out of sight!”

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

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[hugmekenobi]

S3: The Bad Batch (14)

Chapter Fourteen: Flash Strike

Gif by @chaioticcoffee

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: The Batch try to get behind enemy lines as they arrive on Tantiss. Echo makes an unexpected ally and Omega has a plan of her own.

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Limited (Y/N), canon-typical violence, injury descriptions (blood cuts, blacking out and bruising), needles and injections, Hemlock, torture references, angst

Word Count: 5.1K

Author's notes: Not even a lovely bout of food poisoning swiftly followed by my period immediately after was going to stop me getting this out on a Wednesday lol so here it is! Can't believe the next on is the finale!

“We’ll be exiting hyperspace soon.” Hunter informed the group as he came down from the cockpit.

“The base’s scanners will detect us once we’re on approach.” Rampart fretted.

“Then we’ll detach from the science vessel’s hull before then and infiltrate on foot.”

“The jungle is deadly.” Crosshair said in warning.

“Yes, exactly. At least listen to him.” Rampart begged.

“Well, how is Echo gonna get off that ship?” Wrecker reminded his two brothers, not liking the idea of leaving Echo unaided in this mission.

Hunter couldn’t afford to let his mind worry about that too much. Echo was highly capable, and Hunter knew he could handle this. “He’ll find a way.” The alarm beeped to signal the impending hyperspace exit. “Get into position.”

The three of them donned their helmets again and readied themselves for what was to come.

--

Echo hid the trooper’s body in a supply closet and plugged into the ship’s system. He couldn’t look for long however due to the sound of droid footsteps approaching and so he had to go hide in the closet.

--

Hemlock walked into the control room. “What’s the status of the science vessel?” He asked Scorch.

“En route, but we have a potential security breach. Clone Force 99 infiltrated the orbital station with former Vice Admiral Rampart.”

“Where are they now?”

“They fled aboard a stolen shuttle when the science vessel departed. They could be tracking it.”

Hemlock debated the courses of action in his head before deciding, “Dispatch fighters to monitor airspace. I’ll consult with our… guest for any further information he can give on the strategies they may implement.”

--

As the vessel entered the atmosphere, Hunter got ready to act. “Disengaging.”

As soon as the shuttle released from the science vessel, they were immediately bombarded with a squadron of Imperial fighters. Reacting too quickly and too organised for it to be a coincidence- no, they were expecting them.

Hunter sped up the ship and carried out evasive manoeuvres.

--

Hemlock returned from the cells to get a status update. Unfortunately, the prisoner had been rather uncooperative this time around, but it was no matter, he understood clones and how they acted- especially this squad. He could handle this himself. And he was due a visit with you anyway so perhaps you could shed light on what they may do.

“Our fighters have engaged a rogue shuttle.” A technician informed Dr. Hemlock.

“Lock down the base. Neutralize the threat, Commander.” He ordered Scorch.

“Activate laser cannons.” Scorch directed.

--

Between the fire from the base laser cannons and the fighters, standard manoeuvrers weren’t cutting it. Hunter had to get a little bit creative with the flying now and he started with a divebomb towards the ground.

--

Omega and the kids sat bored around one of the tables as they played with the puzzles, but a deep rumbling echoed around the vault.

“What is that?” Eva asked nervously.

Omega rested her hand on the table as she listened and analysed the sounds. “Laser cannons.”

--

“Doctors, there is a base-wide security alert.”

Emerie and Dr. Scalder turned to the science tech who told them that news.

“Follow lockdown protocols. I’ll secure the lab. Monitor the children in my absence.” She said to Dr. Scalder.

Dr. Scalder sneered slightly at the request, “Your concern for the specimens is unwarranted.” But she did as she was told as Emerie walked away.

--

Omega took in the scene through the windows above her with deep intrigue.

“What’s going on?” Sammi whispered.

“They found us.” Omega breathed.

“Who?” Jax asked.

“My brothers.”

--

The ship took another concerning sounding hit.

“Deflector shields are failing.” Crosshair said hurriedly to Hunter from the co-pilots chair situated just behind him.

Hunter dived again, only this time he turned the ship around, so the ship’s weapons were facing the enemy fighters. He fired on them and managed to take out a couple before he slowed and pulled back on the engines and allowed the remaining ships to fly past him.

That moved allowed him to lose them for a second and fly the ship closer to the jungle terrain, but it wasn’t long before the fighters had regrouped and were right back on top of them. “There’s no time to land.” Hunter said. He engaged his comm, “Wrecker, prep the rappel cables.”

“On it.” Wrecker confirmed as he removed himself from the seat he was in.

“On it? On what?” Rampart asked anxiously.

Wrecker only chuckled as he undid Rampart’s over-the-shoulder restraint. “You don’t wanna know.”

“Autopilot engaged.” Hunter confirmed as he and Crosshair went down to join Wrecker.

--

Hunter readied the hatch and all four of them attached to a cable.

“What do you expect me to do?” Rampart questioned in disbelief as he worked on mentally preparing for whatever the clone had planned.

“Try not to hit anything on the way down.” Hunter advised unhelpfully as the floor opened up.

“Whoa! You’ve got to be kidding!” Rampart screeched as he worked out the intentions of this ill-conceived and hellish idea. This entire affair was getting worse by the minute. Suddenly, Erebus didn’t seem so bad.

“Lines ready.” Wrecker said before he and Crosshair made the first jump down and detached once they were in a clear enough space.

Seeing that they’d made it, Hunter gave the order for him and Rampart, “Now!” He yanked Rampart down before the Imperial had the chance to second-guess.

Hunter’s cable descended fine, but Rampart got stuck before he’d barely started to drop.

“Wait! The cable is jammed!” He shouted down to Hunter.

Hunter really didn’t have time to think of a delicate solution, nor did he care about finding one. He drew his blaster and destroyed the hoist that Rampart’s cable ran through. He caught the panicked and screeching Imperial by the forearm as he fell past him, and the shuttle being destroyed by the fighters took care of the rest of their descent into the jungle.

--

“Confirmed hit.” The technician stated. “The shuttle was shot down and crashed in the jungle.”

“Have patrols search the crash site.” Hemlock instructed.

“Sir, our science vessel is on final approach.” Scorch informed him.

“Have the entire ship searched and the crew scanned. No one leaves that hangar without authorisation.” Hemlock made his final order before he left the room.

--

Echo mused over ideas in his head. He knew he couldn’t stay hidden in here forever, but he didn’t exactly blend in. even if he got off the ship, sneaking around Tantiss would be no easy feat, especially with no cover to rely on.

He paced up and down the small closet space and he titled his head as he stared down at the trooper and a new idea began to take shape.

--

Donned in new stormtrooper armour, Echo exited the closet and scomped into the system again.

He’d managed to get more of a look this time before he heard the droid footsteps. He unplugged and casually walked away, acting as if he was patrolling the area but the droid’s voice stopped him.

“Wait. You are not authorised to be here. This area is under my jurisdiction.”

“Ah, well, I was, uh, checking the manifest.” But even to a droid he knew he didn’t sound convincing.

“What is going on here?”

Echo didn’t let the droid get any closer to him. He blasted it straight in the chest and as he looked between the droid and his scomp, he saw another opportunity to complete his new identity.

“Thanks for the hand.” He quipped as he exited the shuttle the same way he’d gotten in.

He joined on to a squad of troopers leaving the hangar.

Now, his infiltration could begin.

--

 Crosshair and Wrecker were making their way through the thick jungle terrain.

“I don’t see ‘em.” Wrecker groaned. “Should we break comm silence?”

“No. we continue toward the base. Hunter will head that way too.” Crosshair said as he took the lead.

“A-Are you sure we’re headed in the right direction?”

“I’ve been here before. It’s not a place you forget.” He shook his hand out as he felt the tremors return.

“You broke out of here once. At least this time you’re breaking in.” Wrecker said, doing his best to provide some comfort.

“I’d rather not do either. But Omega didn’t leave me behind when she could have. I owe her. And (Y/N), she’s one of us too. I have to do this.”

“Plus, we’d never hear the end of it from Hunter if we didn’t.” Wrecker said with levity.

Crosshair managed a short chuckle, “Hmm, that too.”

The rustling of leaves and sounds of footsteps approaching caused them both the sharpen up again as they readied their blasters but the person that emerged was their brother so they could relax.

“See? He found us.” Crosshair stated smugly.

“Did, uh, Rampart make it?” Wrecker asked.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Hunter replied dryly.

“I heard that.” Rampart came panting into view. “You three truly are defective clones.” He grumbled. “If you had any common sense, you wouldn’t have come here. You won’t get out of this alive.”

Hunter squared up to Rampart. “We’ll take our chances.” He glanced up. “Incoming.”

The four of them took cover by a rock as a scout shuttle flew overhead. Only when is passed by, did they start walking again.

--

“Why haven’t our vitals been taken today and where did everyone go?” Eva asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she clutched the straw doll tightly.

“I don’t know. This is weird.” Jax stated quietly.

Omega matched their volume so as not to arouse suspicion. “I need to scout out what’s going on and see if I can find my friend.”

“Your friend?” Eva asked.

“You didn’t arrive alone?” Sammi inquired.

Omega shook her head, but she didn’t know how much to let them in on, especially if they weren’t aware of the potential they had. “Hemlock wanted her too; I think for the similar purposes you were all taken or possibly something else, but I don’t know what. And this is my best chance to find out and to find her, before the others come back. If something happens, and I’m not back in time, cover me.”

“Cover you?” Eva repeated in confusion.

“What does that mean?” Jax sought out clarification on the order.

Omega forgot that most kids didn’t actually grow up with a military family. “Keep watch. If the droid’s come snooping, stall them.” Omega instructed.

“How?” Sammi asked.

“You’ll think of something.” Omega said with sincere belief in them. She stole a glance up at Dr. Scalder who was engaged in talking to a droid and she saw her opportunity. “I’m counting on you.” With that, she left the table and set off to her room where she could access her new means of travel inside the walls of Tantiss.

--

The Batch and Rampart continued to make their way through the terrain, ensuring they were avoiding the many scouting parties that had been sent out.

Crosshair noticed Rampart’s drop in pace and jutted him hard in the back with his rifle. “You fall behind, you get left behind.” He said in response to Rampart’s pained grunt and backwards glare.

“You used to believe good soldiers followed orders.” Rampart commented as he picked up his speed a tad.

“Depends on who’s giving them. The Empire betrayed us both.”

“And you think you can fight them? That’s not you. You’re like me. Loyal to no one but yourself.” Rampart came to a halt.

“I’ve changed.” Crosshair said as he passed him. He wasn’t about to let Rampart of all people get in his head about this. He knew he was different now and that’s what mattered here.

“Sure you have.” Rampart muttered doubtfully as he watched the clone join the other two ahead before he went to catch up.

--

Blending in with the other Imperial troopers had been easy enough, even if the mechanical hand felt a bit unnatural but so far things were going smoothly but slowly. He needed a plan that involved knowing where it was that he needed to go.

Echo broke away from the back of the squad he was trailing as he passed a terminal. Making sure that the cost was clear, he took off the fake hand and plugged into the system to get a layout of this place and it was then that he saw the map of how to get to the lab that he figured had been the place where most of the testing that Omega had talked about occurred.

--

Hunter indicated for the group to stop and hide behind the treeline as a squad of troopers were in the area a few metres away from them. He knew going straight and behind them wasn’t a safe option so he led the way to the right that would see them hopefully work around them.

However, the path led them to a steep rockface.

“So, do we, uh, go around?” Wrecker suggested.

“No. It’ll take too long.” Crosshair said. “Especially with dead weight slowing us down.” He referred to Rampart as he heard the deep and unfit sighs leaving the Imperial as he lagged behind them.

“By all means, take your time.” Rampart groused to himself as he went to sit on a rock away from them all. “It’s not like we’re being hunted down.” He closed his eyes and leaned back against a surprisingly comfortable part of the cliff.

“Ground troopers are already scouring the area. Climbing is our best option.” Hunter theorised.

Wrecker groaned. “I knew you were gonna say that.”

Any further debate was cut short as a deep growling got all of their attention and they saw the creature rousing from sleep behind a terrified Rampart.

Hunter kept his voice low, and calm reached his hand out to Rampart to encourage him to do the same. “Slowly step away.”

Rampart darted back behind them all, but his panic was all he could focus on as he stared as the huge bear-like creature.

Wrecker anticipated Rampart’s petrified scream and covered his mouth with his palm as he dragged Rampart away.

Rampart gathered himself enough to weasel out of Wrecker’s grasp, “Shoot it. Now!”

They’d come too far and were too close for it all to come crashing down now. He couldn’t let that happen. “No. Blaster fire will give away our position.” Hunter objected as he and Crosshair also kept backing away.

“Our position won’t matter if that eats us.” Rampart hissed fearfully and he wasn’t about to wait around for that to happen- let the clones die, it wasn’t his problem anymore. He set off at a run.

The others only watched him go. Their focus had to stay on the animal which let out a guttural growl and charged at them.

They ran and split off in an attempt to surround it.

Hunter managed a few swipes of his vibroblade and Crosshair succeeded in hitting it’s face with the end of his rifle but where things started to go wrong was when Wrecker decided to jump on its back. He was tossed off with ease and that meant the animal was focused entirely on him.

“Wrecker, look out!” Hunter shouted as loudly as he could without giving them away, but it wasn’t enough.

The two of them watched in as the creature savagely swiped at Wrecker’s chest and through hm across the jungle into the trunk of a tree. They dashed over to him and saw the nasty gash that had breached his chest plate and cut through to his chest.

“Come on.” Crosshair encouraged roughly as he and Hunter pulled Wrecker to his feet, and both took an arm around him to support their brother as they retreated further into the jungle.

Fortunately, the gaps between the trees were too small for the creature to follow them but that relief was short lived.

Despite their best efforts, Rampart’s careless fumbling had alerted the Imperial’s to their location and a blaster fight ensued- a less-than-ideal situation for them, especially with Wrecker seriously hurt- but the added chaos had brought the animal back around to take care of the soldiers for them, allowing them to hide once more.

However, Wrecker was still badly wounded.

And Rampart was now nowhere to be found.

And they could count of the fact that the troopers would find him.

And Hemlock definitely knew they were alive and here.

--

The tight spaces and avoiding the sensors within the walls had made the sneaking around rather slow and tiring but it had been worth it.

Discovering that the Zillo Beast was here and being contained not too far from the vault had sparked an idea for the development of her escape plan and now she hoped her instincts were right in terms of the path they were taking her on to find where you were.

She felt along the walls, seeking out any discrepancies to mark changes in location and when she found such a change, she took the gamble and used her tool to scrape away at the new set of panels and began to push her way through.

--

As Omega came out the other side and entered what appeared to be a prison cell, she was pleased to see that it paid off but when she came to actually crouch in front of you, her breath hitched in distress as she saw you. She gently shook your shoulder and called your name.

Your internal body clock was going off, so you roused under the assumption that the calling of your name came from your usual visitors so when you saw her face, it shocked you. “Omega?” You whispered.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Omega replied quietly.

Judging from the deep furrow in her brow and the concern behind her eyes, you looked as bad as you felt. You offered what you hoped was a reassuring smile as you asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you. I think the others are here. We can leave this place soon!” But the news didn’t get the reaction from you she’d hoped. You were looking at her with profound disbelief. “Couldn’t you hear the cannons?”

You’d thought you’d heard a faint booming, but you couldn’t be sure that you hadn’t hallucinated it or been told to believe it. After all, this had been a scenario Hemlock had tried before. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.” You admitted with a heavy, weary sigh. At least you could believe her though, this wasn’t a figment of your imagination.

Omega had never seen you look so defeated before and it disturbed her a great deal. She needed to free you. “What does he want with you?”

You adjusted yourself slightly with a wince. “He wants me to join his operatives. He’s- he’s pretty insistent about it.”

“You can’t!”

“Yeah, I worked that one out for myself.” You attempted to kid, but it fell flat. “What about you? Did he tell you what he wanted?”

“My blood can be used to help replicate an individual’s M-count. But don’t worry, I’m working out a plan for me and the other kids to escape and find Hunter and the others.” Omega informed you.

“There are more children?” You repeated in dismay.

“There are three more of us and a baby. I still don’t fully know why they’re here. My guess is they’re like you.”

“A baby?” You didn’t think Hemlock could repulse you more yet somehow, he’d managed it. And if these kids were like you, they were in all kinds of danger.

“I’m helping them, but I can get you out of here first.” Omega insisted as she started to pull out her implement to work on your cuffs.

“No, you need to leave.”

Omega paused, “What?”

“You can’t help me. You can’t stay here any longer.” Your internal alarm clock had gone off for a reason and the fact that Hemlock was running late solidified the fact that they were here, but it also meant he could arrive any minute. In fact, you could hear distant footsteps.

“But why?”

“Omega, please. Go.” You insisted through a pained whisper as the noise of footsteps grew nearer.

“I can’t leave you like this.” Omega objected.

“You have to.”

“But-”

“Those kids need you. It’s not fair that you have to look do this by yourself, but you need to get out. You can’t worry about me right now; escaping is your objective. You know that it is.”

Omega felt like she was being pulled in two different directions. “I don’t want him to hurt you anymore.” She said tearfully.

“As long as I know you’re okay, he can’t hurt me. Go.” You begged.

“I-”

“Omega…” You implored, your throat choking up as you saw the conflict written across her face and you wished you didn’t have to send her away. “Please.” You couldn’t stand the thought of her getting caught or witnessing what Hemlock had planned for you, it was already bad enough that she’d seen you like this.

Omega still felt torn about it but deep down, she knew you were right and, even though part of her was yelling at her to help you, she forced herself to do as you said. She brushed your cheek before she stepped back into the gap in the wall, righting the panels as she did so.

--

As the door started to slide open, you also made a strong mental note with yourself to not give away what Omega had figured out.

--

Omega had barely made it behind the wall before the door opened fully and she hardly dared to breath as she stayed still behind the walls and heard the faint echo of footsteps and murmur of your voice.

--

“Ah, Dr. Hemlock. You’re late today.” You took in his entourage which consisted of a scientist you did not recognise and another trooper. “And no Emerie? Couldn’t have anything to do with what’s going on outside, could it?” You acted like her absence was of no bother to you when in actuality the absence of someone who seemed to be the only one to hold some sense over what amount torture was reasonable for a person to endure was most disconcerting.

Hemlock took a deep breath to calm himself. Your persistent deflections and smart-mouth remarks despite the fatigue and pain written across your battered face and body was maddening. He had yet to find the secret to breaking you, he had come close a few times, but it hadn’t quite been enough, and that was proving to weigh on his mind, especially with the appearance of Clone Force 99. “How do you know of their arrival?”

“Well, one, you just told me.” You quipped with a lethargic but still smug smirk.

Hemlock nodded to the trooper who slapped you across your cheek.

Recovering from the blow, you spoke again, “Plus, you gave it away as you walked in here. You’re nervous.” You stated simply. “And why else would you be if there wasn’t a threat to your base? And with the only new additions here being Omega and myself, it makes sense that it’s them. You took us away from a rather loyal and protective family who won’t stop until we’re back. And from the activation of the laser cannons, it sounded like they’ve found us.” You deduced, acting like it was the most obvious thing out there. “The very fact that they have reached this place makes you nervous.” You repeated with a stiff shrug of your shoulders as the chain rattled behind you.

“Please, the activities of your squad offer warrant no true concern. They are a mild irritant, nothing more.”

Your shattered and pained state made it hard to get the tone right, but you hoped the low chuckle you emitted gave the impression of the mocking pity you felt at his attempt to hide it from you. “I may not be able to use the Force to choke you to death in the way I’d like to but don’t think it can’t help me in other ways.”

“Clone Force 99 are as predictable as any other clone group. They pose no threat to me or my ambitions.”

“Then why bother coming here? I’d have loved some time off.” You griped tiredly.

Hemlock took a knee in front of you and took a harsh grip of your chin. “Tech was more resistant to my methods this time. It would appear news of his squad gave him more resolve than I anticipated this time around. He failed to divulge what strategies they may utilise. I am here to see what you can offer.”

Omega had to bite back her shocked gasp. Tech? Alive? Surely that wasn’t possible.

You ignored the comment, he had worked this angle before too. You only hoped Omega was back on her way now, it wouldn’t do her any good to hear something like that. “You think now all of a sudden I’ve changed my mind about joining you?”

Hemlock got to his feet, but he now found himself particularly pleased by your predictable resistance. What he was about to inflict on you would be most satisfying. “Ready the droid.” He ordered the assistant scientist next to him.

You shook your head as the droid approached you. “You know, for a scientist, you sure don’t seem to learn.” Those were the last words you said before the needle pierced your skin.

Omega knew she couldn’t linger any longer, so she started her journey back to the vault.

--

Omega was making her way back from your cell, when she came to a sudden halt as she heard distant but still disturbingly recognisable raw screams of pain- they were your screams of pain.

She stopped to let one of the sensors past and released a shaky breath before she reminded herself that she needed to get back quickly or this all would be for nothing.

--

Echo had managed to sneak into the lab and had plugged into the system to analyse the records. He was appalled by the sheer number of clones that had undergone testing here, but he paused as he reached Omega’s record. However, before he could take more of it in, the door opened. He quickly removed his scomp and reattached his mechanical hand.

Emerie observed the trooper carefully. “Troopers are not allowed in here.”

“It’s, uh, a special security patrol. Uh, i- it’s all clear.” Echo stuttered awkwardly to the female scientist. Not wanting to hang about, he started to walk away.

Emerie ran it through in her head. No trooper had ever come in here before, and no trooper had a scomp attached underneath a makeshift prosthetic hand. And no trooper had ever shown an interest in or had the means of accessing secure lab files. But there was one soldier she knew of that matched that description. “Echo.”

Echo stopped short.

“That’s your name, isn’t it?” Emerie asked, a tad nervously. “Omega talked about you all.”

Echo turned to face the woman.

“I’m Emerie.”

Her name was familiar to him too, but it didn’t bring with it any comfort. Echo sighed, “Omega told us about you too.”

“She said her squad would eventually come for her.”

“Not just her.” Echo marched towards Emerie. “We’re here for all the prisoners you’ve been experimenting on, including (Y/N).”

“I- I was doing my job.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” Echo said unsympathetically. He took of his helmet and spoke to her with equal parts anger and disappointment. “You’re a clone. How can you be part of this? Omega saw something in you. I want to believe that she was right. Tell me where they are.”

The words from the clone were what she’d been trying to deny to herself for a while now, but she couldn’t do it anymore. She didn’t want to do it anymore. “Omega’s in the vault but (Y/N) is being held in another prison cell. You won’t get anywhere near them without my assistance. If we’re gonna free them and those children, you’re going to have to trust me.”

Echo furrowed his brow slightly. That was new information. “Wait, w-what children?”

“Omega is not the only child confined inside this base.”

--

Omega made it back to her room just before Dr. Scalder came into her room with the droid for the vitals check and her resolve for escape was stronger than ever.

She and the kids reconvened back at the tables was Dr. Scalder left the vault.

“What took so long?” Eva asked.

As much as it pained her, Omega pushed you to the back of her mind. You were right, getting these kids to safety was the priority and once she did that and found the rest of the squad, they could help you. “I found something big. I have a plan, and I’m gonna need your help.”

--

More screams from Hunter, begging and pleading for your help.

More hurt and agony coursing through your body.

More longing to just give in.

To do anything to make it stop.

But that's what got you to wake up, you couldn’t do that. However, as you opened your eyes, you were face to face with the monster of your nightmares- Hemlock. His grin as sadistic and as twisted as ever, something you'd imagine he'd wear once he made some kind of monumental breakthrough in his research.

It took you a moment to get your bearings once more; the familiar bite of the binds and intense ache throughout your body told you that you had been subjected to another torment. Had things really gotten that bad that you're blacking out and forgetting periods of time? The last thing you clearly remembered was the droid injecting the serum, so you fought to remember what had happened before that needle went into your neck. Omega, the other children, Hunter and the others…. they were here and you weren’t going to jeopardise them.

Thankfully, despite the grin on his face, you knew you hadn’t given anything away. There was a deep frustration behind his eyes that he couldn’t hide. The grin was merely because he relished the pain you were in. “Man, you’re having a rough day, huh?” You rasped.

The comment resulted in a punch to your mouth from the trooper, your lip splitting open once more, but the way Hemlock’s shoulders heaved in irritation made it somewhat worth it.

Hemlock got ready to put you through another round when the sound of a comm beeping stopped him.

“Sir, they need you back in the control room.” The trooper interrupted.

Hemlock tightened his jaw but headed for the door.

You somehow managed to get yourself into a more vertical position as you called behind him, “They’re coming for you. You’re not leaving this place alive.”

Hemlock clenched his hands into fists before he walked out.

Next Chapter>

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[digitalsymbiote]

The Solar Sprint

You ever heard of the Cannonball Run? It was a thing back on earth, back before corpo wars. It was an unsanctioned race across a continent. Folks would trick out cars with extra fuel tanks, police scanners, the works, and just burn their way from one ocean to the other. Driving for something like a day straight, avoiding cops all the way, and only stopping to refuel. Kinda wild, don’t you think? A test of speed and stamina, seeing how hard you could really push your vehicle.

That’s what the Solar Sprint started out as, you know. First time someone ran it, the Jovian blockade was still up. They blew right past the military lines, their mech too fast for any of those combat frames to catch. It was big news at the time, everyone thought it was some secret R.O.M. tech built to break the blockade. Turned out it was just some wrench-head who wanted to see how fast they could get from Mercury to Neptune. The crazy fucker actually did it too, straight shot from the solar collection station on Mercury, all the way to the NDS Research outpost. The scientists there nearly shit themselves when the Runner went blasting past their observatory like that. Can’t imagine they saw any frames out there that weren’t clunky research models before then, especially with the blockade still up.

There’s still footage of the first sprint up on the Net if you look. Some cargo hauler caught footage of the Runner nearly side-swipping his freight ship between Earth and Venus. There was a leaked clip of them breaking the Jovian blockade too, but you might be hard pressed to find that one these days. runners sometimes carry hard copies though, so if you run into the right people you might be able to see it.

It became a whole thing, y’know? Kind of a fuck you to the corps, the wars, all of it. Building frames in a different way, not just for blowing each other up. Was a kind of creative revolution, an expression of freedom. Corps can’t keep us down, yeah? Something like a thousand runners tried it over the next couple years. Not all of em made it; some of em got caught by the blockade, some of em their frames couldn’t handle the trek. But enough of em made it that it started to become a real competition. Who could make the sprint in the fastest time? Folks posted on forums about crazy ideas they were coming up with for propellants, aerodynamics, you name it. Gearheads across the net had a brand new obsession to pour over.

Soon enough though, the corps caught on, realized it was easier to sanction the thing than to try and stop people from doing it. Enough cargo freighters crashed, enough blockades ran, it became more profitable to make an event out of the thing. The Sprint lost some of it’s luster after that. Speed frames plastered with sponsorships and built with corpo parts didn’t really capture the energy of the original run. The yearly Sprint is technically open to public teams, but any self respecting Runner isn’t gonna attempt it during sanctioned times. Kinda defeats the purpose of it all if they clear the shipping lanes and wait for optimal conditions, right?

Every once in a while though, you might spot somebodies custom frame sitting in orbit around the solar collection station. And who knows? They might be the next crazy wrench-head to break that record.

[inbabylontheywept]

That isn't a ship, it's a cannon with FTL

Aggral Thrawn’s gut was a grotesque thing to behold: Soft and distended, covered with a coarse layering of fur, a fat purple worm of a scar crossing over it’s almost spherical circumference. So vicious was the scar that even gazing upon it brought unwanted imagery of the fat ape-like creature screaming in pain, both arms working as a dam to keep the tidal wave of bloody guts from spilling out of its three-fingered fists

Yet, for all its grotesque horror, he trusted it. That same gut that had almost gotten him killed so many years before had worked hard to save him again and again after. It was what had brought him from mere gangpress, to quartermaster, all the way to the captain of his own pirate vessel.

And right now, it was telling him to call off the attack. The readings he was getting from the craft ahead made no sense. The crew space was too small, the energy readings were off the charts, and there was something almost military about it. Yet, as he looked over the hull, he couldn’t spot a single weapon. Nothing about it made sense.

The crew had enough in the larders to pass on a ship this sturdy. Even as ships on either side of him pulled forward, eager to be the first to raid the craft, he aborted the ram sequence to watch from a distance.

The crew was disappointed. It’d been too long since they’d had a good, solid fight, but they knew better than to second guess Aggral’s gut. It had earned its place as the ship’s oracle by rite of blood, and was to be respected accordingly.

---

There were only four crew aboard the USSN PMAC: Dalton Dial, in charge of weapon systems, Elizabeth Harris, in charge of navigation, and the Pratchett siblings, who worked together to keep the fifth generation fusion reactor that powered the whole abomination within some semblance of working order.

The Pratchett siblings’ love of the reactor (which they had affectionately named “Sun-Son”) was rivaled only by their hatred of the rest of the craft. Elizabeth and Dalton had more mixed feelings on the matter. Elizabeth considered the ship “Perhaps a little ridiculous on paper, but a work of military genius,” while Dalton lauded the idea as “Literally the coming of the Messiah, the only thing I prayed for my whole adulthood, and the answer to that prayer manifest, just for me, to bring me back to the flock.”

Their mixed feelings could be explained away just by describing the craft concept:

The PMAC was not a ship. It was the largest possible gun that could still be attached to an Alcubierre drive, with just enough manpower to steer, aim, and maintain the thing for long term patrols.

The prototype MAC that the life-support, thrusters, and reactor had been constructed around hadn’t even been built with space in mind. It was originally designed as a ground-to-orbit defense weapon. If it wasn’t for the capacitor bank the ship would’ve needed almost a minute between each shot to get enough power, even with the fifth generation reactor. Luckily, it could start out each battle with enough charge to fire off a salvo of four before needing to begin recharging for its next launch.

It had just such a salvo prepared for the pirate ambush that their military grade scanners had picked up minutes earlier.

Dalton was not taking the delay very well.

“With all due respect mam, I’ve had a lock on all three for almost a minute now. I could just fire and claim that I sneezed. The Pratchetts would back me up on this. Right guys?”

Emily Pratchett snorted.

“Why is it that when the weaponsmaster says ‘with all due respect’ he always means ‘fuck you for giving my stupidly giant gun blue balls?”

Thom Pratchett shrugged.

“Maybe he’d say it less if you weren’t so eager to translate it to the navigator for him.”

Elizabeth was slightly amused by the conversation. It was hard to keep things particularly formal while on a crew this small. Still, she was waiting for something. She’d gotten permission from the brass to take a new approach to fighting with the ship.

They’d proven it could win battles. Now, it was time to establish shock and awe. And as it currently stood, dead men told no tales.

Thus, they needed more living ones. And as she watched two pirate ships pull forward, with one hanging back, she knew just who’d live to pass on this particular legend. ---

Aggral watched the ships advance on his HUD, the blips crossing the thousands of kilometers between them and the strange ship in seconds. For a moment he felt regret. Was he making a mistake? Was this going to be what led to some upstart in the crew thinking they could do things better than him?

Then, the world went mad.

The power readings on the strange ship spiked. Hard. He’d thought that the baseline levels were outrageous, but they must’ve had some sort of absurd capacitor bank to expel that much energy that fast. The twin prongs that made up most of the length of the ship gave off some sort of EMP that fried the electronics of the Viscera, his sister ship, cutting off their radio traffic. His crew scrambled to find some way to regain contact when Gods of the Dead, forgive me my sins, and and forget me my debts, the actual weapon went off. The EMP hadn’t even been the attack, it had just been a side effect.

He hadn’t seen a weapon because he’d been looking for one on the hull, some kind of guardian laser, or a missile pod. He hadn’t even conceived that the whole goddamn vehicle could be the weapon. But what kind of weapon would charge up like that? A laser would just fire over a sustained period. What would need a burst like-

He stopped midthought as it hit him: A railgun.

He stopped again as it hit them: The kinetic charge would have to have been moving at almost 0.8c for it to just ignore the evasive maneuvers like that. The ferroslug itself wasn’t detected by any of their defense measures aboard, but the thermal readings of the Viscera made every infared sensor aboard scream in horror. Contact with whatever slug had hit it must’ve reduced the whole thing to plasma. It was almost inconceivable.

He was already screaming out the full retreat call when the ship fired twice in rapid succession at the Rictus, which was still recovering from what had just happened to its partner. The first shot was dead through the center. The second hit some target a few dozen meters off to the side.

A direct hit on an escape pod. Apparently, the captain had tried to save himself. Even in the mortal terror that he felt at that moment, Aggral could take a grim satisfaction at that second shot. To leave all the men that followed you to their deaths was a cowardice that he could not bear to consider. He would rather die.

And now, he was going to. Jump was fifteen seconds away, and the console was telling him that the ship was pinged. They knew where he was, they had him in their crosshairs, and they were going to pull the trigger.

He traced a finger over the purple scar absentmindedly. This was it. He’d been living on borrowed time since that first wound, and now he was to meet his ancestors.

He was ready.

---

Dalton was wincing, even as he maintained his ping on the ship. He knew that Elizabeth was just doing her job, but even by his admittedly bloodthirsty standards, there was something fucked up about keeping a ship in ping like this. It was like forcing someone to look you in the eyes before you slit their throat. Way too personal for his tastes.

Elizabeth was keeping an eye on the craft, making sure that no escape pods were jettisoning. Part of her was hoping that some would, but whatever other faults these pirates had, they were loyal to each other at least. As the ultraviolet scanners gave the telltale flair of redshift, she told Dalton to turn off the ping.

To say he was relieved was an understatement. In the middle of a firefight, he couldn’t question Elizabeth’s orders, but for the first time in a long time, he’d been afraid to pull the trigger. Now he didn’t have to.

He almost slid out of his chair as he asked the question that had been on his mind since the engagement began.

“Mam, what the hell was that?”

Elizabeth smiled warmly at her very surprised crew even as her words came out, cold as ice.

“A message.”

---

Thanks for reading this far! I'm moving my previous works from reddit to here. If you follow me, more will come. If you're impatient, you can skip to the source and read things at https://www.reddit.com/user/InBabylonTheyWept/

[thegingerwrites]

i'd wanna be next to you

obikin, pre-relationship flying lessons, lots of fluff,

This is a warm up that has been sitting in my drafts for a while, slowly getting out of hand 😅 Here is Obi-Wan and Anakin learning to fly together just before the start of the Clone Wars. Obi-Wan is learning to see Anakin as a partner and a friend and Anakin learns that his former master cares more for him than he realized.

Also on AO3 here.

"Wait, you want to fly? With me?" Anakin asks.

"Essentially, yes."

"The Council's asking you to fly with me?"

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "Not exactly. We skipped over most of the flight exercises in your training because you had already proven your proficiency. With the coming war, the Council has asked both of us to put some time in on the new fighters. I thought we could go together."

"Even though you're not technically my master anymore."

Anakin doesn't mean the words to hurt, it's more of an observation than anything. A reminder, to both of them, that things have changed.

"Perhaps you can teach me a thing or two.”

Anakin grins.

After obtaining the proper clearances, Obi-Wan and Anakin head up into Coruscant's upper atmo in the new Aethersprite starfighters. Anakin has flown ships during his training, he has flown nearly every mission he and Obi-Wan have been on over the course of his training, but it has been a long time since he's flown something like this. The Aethersprite is sleek, streamlined. It isn't built for cargo or long-haul trips. It is made for speed, stealth, precision. The craft fits around him like it was made for him and Anakin can't wait to see what makes it tick.

"I thought we could run some simulations, work on some new formations," suggests Obi-Wan. "Eventually, we might be able to teach them to the clones."

His voice comes through Anakin's headset slightly tinny and distorted but Anakin can hear him almost amplified through the Force. It's like Obi-Wan is here in the cockpit with him.

"Sounds like a plan, Master," Anakin agrees. "But let's put these fighters through their paces first."

With those words as the barest of warnings, Anakin gives the signal to Artoo and they press the engines as hard as they can go. He leaves Obi-Wan in less than a second, quickly disappearing from view. They're too close to Coruscant to fly near anything interesting. No Beggars Canyon and the like to test the craft's maneuverability but there are ships out here, star destroyers awaiting orders and crew members. They're stationed too far above the surface of the planet to be seen. On the streets of Coruscant, you could almost forget that the Republic has just entered a war.

Anakin heads for one of them. So what if there are likely new regulations about airspace? This is a new galaxy. Anakin is a general. Surely he can still fly wherever he wants so long as he is too fast to be caught. And in this baby? He isn't sure anyone can catch him.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan says over their comms. "Are you quite finished messing around yet?"

He can't see Obi-Wan, wonders if his master can see him or at least track his general direction using his scanners or the Force. Anakin flies in close to the viewports on the stern of the star destroyer, so close he thinks he can see clone troopers marching inside.

"I haven't even started."

He loops around the ship. Artoo picks up a couple of nasty comms but quickly dismisses them, sending their clearance codes and little else, before heading off on their way. They pass a squadron of fighters sent out on a training bout, the same thing that Anakin and Obi-Wan are out here doing really, only far less amused by pilots going rogue.

Eventually, Obi-Wan finds him and they circle up on each other, flying a steady path in orbit around Coruscant.

"Why did you want to fly anyway?" Anakin asks over the comms. He's grinning and breathless, just from the sheer exhilaration of being in the cockpit of something so fast again. He has done some podracing on the lower levels in his time as a padawan, but while the narrow streets provide a heady rush of excitement and danger, there's something about being able to fully turn the engines loose in the wide expanse of space. "You hate flying."

"I wanted to test out the new Aethersprites, get a sense of their capabilities before they become the standard ship for Jedi in this war."

Anakin runs his hands over the steering controls of his ship. "You mean we're going to be assigned these ships?"

"The Council signed off on the decision a few days ago."

Obi-Wan has them make several passes in tandem. They fly near the star destroyers, as it's easier to perform maneuvers with a point of reference in common. They work on flying as close together as possible, wings mere inches from each other. When Anakin pushes his fighter harder, Obi-Wan does the same, feeling the instincts of the other through the Force.

They work on fighter passes, running drills as though they are enemy combatants. From parsecs apart, they come at each other and separate in the blink of an eye with a hairsbreadth between them. The precision and timing, the anticipation of it, lights something up inside Anakin.

"Okay," Anakin says, coming back around again. "Let's form up and try something like this."

He doesn't have the words for it, just projects a mental image of the maneuver he has in mind to Obi-Wan. Anakin is good at this, exceptional and he knows it, but Obi-Wan is right, he doesn't have the formal training some of the other Jedi and the clones will have. It isn't either of their faults really. Anakin's skills were going to be more than good enough for the life of a Jedi. No one anticipated the need to learn military flight maneuvers.

"Why would we ever need to do something like that?" Obi-Wan asks, joining Anakin off of his port side, close enough that without the void of space, Anakin could probably hear his voice in the cockpit.

Anakin shrugs. "Spinning's a good trick."

In his mind’s eye, he can see Obi-Wan shaking his head. There's a smile on his face though. It's a foregone conclusion that they'll at least give Anakin's idea a try.

“Fine,” Obi-Wan concedes. The line their two ships up on each other’s wings, Anakin on the left and Obi-Wan on the right. The wingtips are mere inches apart, so close it sends a thrill through Anakin even though flying in a straight line is something a droid can do. “On my mark. Three…two…”

At the signal, Anakin maneuvers his ship into a roll at speed in time with Obi-Wan. The feeling of perfect synchronicity sings through him in the Force. The durasteel bodies of their ships nearly kiss with how close they are but because Anakin can feel Obi-Wan—so connected to him even with space and speed and transparisteel to separate them—it’s like Anakin can hear Obi-Wan’s heart beating in his chest. Amplified, perhaps, because it beats in time with his own.

They ease out of the movement together, their ships once again aligned wing to wing. “Woohoo!” Anakin shouts and Obi-Wan’s laugh crackles over the headset.

“Again?” Obi-Wan asks and with that they are off, tumbling through space in a series of spirals and turns, ever increasing in their difficulty and flamboyancy. There is no reason anyone would ever need to fly like this. Anakin and Obi-Wan race past each other and past the fleet ships stationed in orbit around Coruscant at breakneck speeds, pushing their ships to their utter limits and getting a feel for what they can really do. Anakin’s Aethersprite feels like an extension of his body, in a way that he has ached for, for years.

They race to a planet not far from Coruscant where the Grand Army of the Republic has established their barracks and dockyards. Coruscant itself is far too populated to accommodate the airspace and acreage on the ground for an army base and so the GAR has had to spread out into the system.

The two of them dip their fighters into atmo and Anakin feels his ship automatically adjust to the planet’s gravity. The transition is almost seamless but the new weight gives him a greater sense of his speed.

Flying like this gets Anakin’s heart racing. While he loves the acrobatics of space flight, nothing beats the adrenaline rush that comes from navigating tougher conditions. Here when they fly wing to wing, they have to account for wind and weather. When they bank their turns or maneuver their ships into a dive or a climb, they have to fight the pull of gravity that wants to knock them off course.

At first, Obi-Wan is more hesitant, using his skill to face off against the unseen and as yet unknown enemy of g-force, but he gets his bearings soon enough. He calls out formations and positions, getting them both used to the kinds of call signs they are going to need to communicate with their men. Some of it is familiar, from basic flight training, but the rest of it is new. Anakin struggles to imagine a scenario in which he is going to need to execute a “hesitation roll” or a “tuck-over roll” but he learns them anyway. He and Obi-Wan begin building longer maneuvers out of those composite positions and a thread of amusement sparks across their bond as they begin calling out commands and positions, testing their reaction time and synchronicity.

When their Aethersprites line up wing-to-wing, the Force sings with how right it feels.

They fly for hours, feeding off of each other’s energy—Anakin, almost dizzy with the sheer delight of speed and swiftness after going so long without, and Obi-Wan, flush with the challenge of keeping up with him, the puzzle of figuring out just how far and fast these machines can go.

When they finally touch back down at the Temple, Anakin leaps from his cockpit breathless and grinning. The longer bangs of his grown-out padawan cut stick to his forehead a little with sweat. He is there on the ground waiting when Obi-Wan climbs out of his starfighter.

“That was incredible,” Anakin says, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. “It’s been ages since I’ve flown like that and you—”

Anakin has flown with Obi-Wan before, watched him navigate strange planets and asteroid fields and Coruscanti traffic. He has never seen Obi-Wan fly like that before.

“You were amazing,” Anakin continues. “Where did—how did you—?”

The questions cling to his tongue but he has no way of asking them. No way of reconciling the exhilaration of flying with his master only moments ago with the person who tries to obey speed limits even when running for their lives.

But when he looks at his master, senses what little he allows to escape his shields, Anakin sees that he is just as exhilarated. Just as breathless and excited as Anakin, though he wears it beneath a calmer exterior.

“You loved that, didn’t you?” he asks his master instead.

“Excuse me?”

“Flying. You always get so bent out of shape whenever we fly anywhere. I thought you hated it but that’s not true, is it?”

In answer, Obi-Wan looks down and away. “I don’t hate flying, no.”

“Then why—”

“It’s easier when I do it myself. I don’t get nauseous or uneasy. Piloting the ship and knowing what is going to happen next lessens those effects somehow.”

“Oh.”

Now it’s Anakin’s turn to look somewhere else. Because if that’s the case, then why didn’t Obi-Wan ever say anything? Why let Anakin fly every mission while sitting there beside him in obvious discomfort when there was clearly a simple fix?

Anakin is about to ask—he has to know. Because he can’t come up with an explanation that makes sense. His master loves to fly. Clearly does. And yet he takes the co-pilot’s seat every mission without fail. They move into position without thinking. The roles natural to them after years of being at each other’s sides.

Obi-Wan claps Anakin on the shoulder before they make their way out of the hangar. His hand solid and steady as though to wrest control over the flight of Anakin’s emotions. “It isn’t a big deal. I manage just fine in the copilot’s seat, as you well know.”

“But you love it,” Anakin says. Perhaps the part that is most difficult for him to understand. He can’t imagine giving up flying for anyone. If he had to sit quiet in the copilot’s seat watching someone else move too slowly or treat the ship poorly, Anakin would mutiny.

“I do,” Obi-Wan admits, something Anakin never thought he would hear and yet undeniable after the flying they just did. “But not as much as I know you do.”

Anakin’s face colors and when Obi-Wan moves to leave the hangar, it takes him a second to follow.

Obi-Wan says that like it isn’t a big deal. Like it means little to him that he chooses to suffer from flight sickness even though there is an extremely simple solution, all because Anakin likes flying. Like that is the natural thing for him to do when it is anything but.

Anakin jogs a little to catch up to his old master and forces himself to let it go. Not forget—no, Anakin will think about this conversation and its repercussions for many nights to come—but move on. Because it is clear that Obi-Wan thinks there is nothing more to be said, like this should be obvious to him, and Anakin is eager to get more out of him by any means necessary. Obi-Wan has just admitted to something like caring for him, wanting to see him happy, and perhaps that should be obvious to Anakin, but he has never felt so much like he had the evidence of it there in his hands, something that he could point to until now.

The thought warms him from the inside out, makes him want to do something reckless like try to hug Obi-Wan even as it makes him want to keep his distance. Because the idea of his master being fond of him is so fragile and tenuous a concept that Anakin needs to be careful or else it might break.

Anakin and Obi-Wan walk in step, side by side, and Anakin lets their shoulders brush every now and again. When Obi-Wan doesn’t pull away, he preens and decides to change the subject.

“They fly like a dream. I mean, there are a few things I could see myself changing. The thermal oscillator would run more efficiently if the fuel cell could redirect power intermittently rather than automatically. You would get a smoother ride out of it if you never had to fully wait for it to recharge—”

Obi-Wan laughs. “You can take that up with the technicians if you like but I’m sure you’d be much happier to make the changes yourself. For all intents and purposes, she’s all yours.”

“Wait, mine?”

“The starfighter will be stored onboard your star destroyer. You will have full discretion over its use.”

Anakin lets out a long, slow breath, forcing himself to slow down. The child in him has latched on tight to the idea of a starfighter of his very own while the adult—the <i>knight</i>—that he is falls sober at the reminder of the war ahead and all that it means for them. His blood sings at the thought of action, of taking to the skies and righting wrongs across the galaxy. At relaxing some of the strictures of the Jedi Code for the sake of saving lives.

He looks to his Master, with his eyes a little too wide, feeling for a moment like he is back in anti-gravity. Obi-Wan offers him a small close-mouthed smile and reaches out to link their hands as they walk. Even a few months ago, Anakin might have refused, might have shaken him off and insisted he no longer needed the kind of coddling he did as a youngling. But Geonosis changed everything. The galaxy is a new and terrifying place. Everything is different now. Anakin is different now.

“We have some time before all of that comes to pass. The Council wants to send us out on our first mission in a week’s time, hence the starfighter training.”

There are a number of things Anakin could latch onto in that sentence: the fact that he is going to war in a week, the fact that their hours of joyriding in new starfighters was somehow meant to be combat training. Instead, Anakin’s head rings with, “Us?”

For once, Obi-Wan looks…well, he looks a little embarrassed if Anakin had to guess at what that expression might look like on his normally composed Master. “Well, yes. Though I suppose if you want to be assigned separate missions, especially on our first time out, I could go and speak to the Council. The Force knows that there are countless battles to be fought—”

Anakin lets him keep going, staring at him like he has encountered a new kind of droid and can’t seem to figure out how it works just yet.

“But all of this is entirely foreign to both of us so I thought, at least for the first mission, it might be…beneficial to have each other close by. A team, if you will.”

Not Master and Padawan, but equals. Fellow commanders, each in charge of their own battalion of soldiers. Obi-Wan’s concern for how such a plan might be received is well-founded, so much so that even Anakin can spot from a distance just how poorly he might have taken the idea if it were presented any other way.

Except Obi-Wan has presented it to him like this, like Anakin has a choice. Like he wants this but is afraid there is a chance Anakin will turn him down. After a day spent practically inside each other’s heads and after finding out that Obi-Wan has essentially been torturing himself every time they have ever flown together all to make Anakin happy… No. There is no way that Anakin could refuse him.

But it isn’t as though Anakin is going to confess to the soft, molten feeling in his chest. “You’re just saying that because you know you’ll need me there to save your ass.”

“Just as you’ll need me there to save yours.”

Partners. Generals. Maybe even friends. Anakin could get used to this.

He grins. “Alright, old man. You’re on.”

[carionto]

Everything gets recycled in Human space. Everything.

When we from the Coalition made first contact with Humanity, their space was a disaster in waiting - countless pieces of debris from jettisoned thrusters, random junk from individual space wannabes, and dead satellites that failed to enter a descent orbit, among other objects.

During the period before they and Earth vanished, it became an almost impassable barrier even without our containment measure.

From what the Humans have told and shown us, after they had that massive explosion that burst trillions of tons of the surface and mantle up, the sky was almost constantly dark. One of the first priorities they set was cleaning that up immediately or life on Earth was heading for a fatal ice age. And so they did, in spite of all other calamities happening at once, they put forth enough time, energy and resources to create their extraordinary Orbital Cleaner Crews.

For decades thousands of volunteers went up to man various harvesters, pilot drones, manage processing efforts, and often manually fix problems on the spot. The sheer chaos made predictive navigation and communication of any kind nigh impossible. It was suicide, as well as a complex and delicate task. Not to mention the fact that the Human population had been reduced to less than a billion, with all the associated challenges on the surface. Still, during a time of calamity and uncertainty for their future as a whole, some Humans stepped up to do what had to be done to preserve their future.

Most died on duty, only once most of the chaos had been dealt with did the mortality rate drop below 80%. The memorial for their sacrifice is a humble yet humbling small docking ring with all the surviving vessels and equipment they used parked and locked in stasis, and the names of each engraved on the outside hulls. If there is one thing that unites all civilizations across the galaxy, it is the culture of remembrance.

The result of their effort was an Earth that would not freeze to death, and their legacy is the unmatched professionalism and thoroughness of the OCC. Every object not planet-side is tracked. Regular scanner sweeps find anything as small as an iron atom that shouldn't be there, and within days any newfound junk is picked up and sent to the most relevant station for recovery, recycling, or reuse.

Even the maddening process of their planet crackers as they tear up moon after moon to be used in their insane projects doesn't leave a speck of dust afterwards. Everything has value, be it sentimental or practical, and nothing is left on the wayside.

When it comes to keeping their space clean of junk, Humans have become obsessively compulsive.

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter seven

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: Fuck it, here's chapter 7 since the previous post was technically just an interlude! Once again I'm basically begging for comments/ messages/ any interaction other than just likes because I'm greedy!

Series Masterlist

word count: 3.5k

All she had was an eager cop, a detective, and the detective’s vigilante best friend. 

She hoped it would be enough.

Y/n knew that boredom would be her worst enemy, so she downloaded a police scanner app and listened to it almost religiously while she worked. The constant stream of voices helped keep the grief at bay and helped her focus. 

To her surprise, the cops seemed to want Batman around. There were a couple of calls those first couple of days–an armed robbery and a creep taking pictures through a window–where the officers mentioned him by name. He’d stopped the armed robbery before the cops got there and also caught the peeping Tom. One cop grumbled on the radio how all their work was being taken by some guy in a costume. The rest of them jumped to Batman's defense, saying there was more than enough crime to go around. “Besides,” one chuckled. “I wouldn't want to be the one to catch some creep with his dick out.” 

Y/n was almost pleased to hear the good relationship the vigilante had with GCPD. She wondered how much Gordon had to do with that. She made a few notes of their comments for her article, because it was definitely interesting to see that a city wanted a guy who operated outside the law around. 

It was a few nights before an interesting call came through. 

A witness reported a woman being shot. A young woman. The details were sparse but it was enough to pique her interest.

Y/n couldn’t say what it was that had her dressing warmly and grabbing her camera and phone. Stupidity, definitely. But it was one of those moments where she felt in her gut that something was happening, something related to her case.

Pepper spray clutched in one hand and camera in the other, she left the safety of Wayne Tower. Every shadow made her jump. She called a cab to take her to the crime scene–or at least as close as she could get. It was practically on the other side of the city and she definitely didn’t want to chance walking alone at night in Gotham. 

They were stopped two blocks from the scene, so she got out and peered around. It looked like the actual crime scene was on the other side of an apartment building to her right, but that alley was blocked off as was the street in front of her. So she walked a little further down to the next connecting alley to get to one street over. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Shit!” She screamed. She whirled and swung her arm up to use the mace, but her wrist was quickly caught in an iron grip. She tried to scramble away and almost fell when the hand suddenly released her.

Her heart only slightly calmed when she saw who it was. 

The Batman. 

She pressed her knuckles to her chest. Her heart was jumping out of her chest. “Jesus fucking Christ. What are you doing here?” 

He watched her passively, half in the shadows. He had stepped away as soon as he let her go. “I asked first.” 

She closed her eyes for a beat and inhaled a steadying breath. “Probably the same thing you’re doing here.” She shrugged. Her pulse was still racing but she knew she was safe now. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. And besides, there were about a million cops just around the corner. If she screamed, they would come. 

“It’s too dangerous,” he growled. He took a half-step forward, like he would grab her again. 

She held up the pepper spray. “Not afraid to use this on you, buddy. Besides, you’re here now to keep me safe. And the other fifty cops out there.” 

He stopped. His eyes narrowed. She wanted to get closer, see what color they were, help narrow down who might be underneath the mask. 

“Fine, let’s go.” He started to walk past her, towards the blue and red lights at the end of the alley. 

She blinked in surprise. “That was easy.” 

He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Only because you’re going to do what you want to do. At least this way I can keep an eye out for you.” 

She grinned and winked. “You’re learning already.” 

They walked down the alley together, her shadowy protector moving to stay one step behind her like a bodyguard. 

At the end of the alley, the world was leached of color in the whirling red and blue lights, the flashes timed almost perfectly to the beat of her heart. She snapped a quick wide picture. She could see the area cordoned off with bright yellow tape. 

“Well, of all the officers in all of Gotham,” she said pleasantly when she spied Martinez keeping onlookers away from the crime scene tape. 

Officer Martinez’s young face brightened when he saw her, then changed comically fast when he peered over her shoulder. She could feel the Batman’s presence at her back, looming over her. 

“She’s with me,” the vigilante said. Martinez sighed but held up the tape to let them under. She sensed there was a story between them and itched to find out what it was. 

“If either of you touch anything…” Martinez grumbled. “It’s my neck.” 

Y/n flashed him her most winning smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the big guy in line.” Martinez grinned back. 

“So Martinez doesn’t like you, huh?” she asked the vigilante.

He ignored her. 

The air around them was humid, wet. It must have rained earlier, like most nights in Gotham. A few cop cars were leaving already. She wondered what had brought on the intense response. Her stomach tightened as they approached another alley. Gordon was talking to a young guy, late teens to early twenties, taking notes on a small notepad as the guy wiped at his face. 

Y/n quickly fumbled for her phone and set it to record. She wasn’t making the same mistake twice. Except for, well, the whole leaving Wayne Tower late at night while a murderer might be after her mistake she’d already made. She snapped another sneaky picture of Gordon and the young man. 

She caught Batman watching her and arched an eyebrow as if daring him to say anything. 

He simply turned away and said, “Gordon.” 

“Thank you,” Gordon said to who she assumed was a witness. “We’ll be in touch.” 

The guy hurried off, shoulders hunched, his face almost green. 

Gordon turned, saw her, and sighed. “I would ask, but…”

She winked. “You’re both learning so quickly. I’m proud.” 

“What happened?” Batman asked, all business. Y/n glanced past Gordon and saw a body covered in a sheet. The medical examiner was unzipping a body bag, about to transport it. 

The detective’s attention turned to the vigilante. “Single gunshot to the head at close range. Woman in her thirties walking home from work. Guy heard the gunshots and came running. Said he didn’t see the shooter but immediately called it in. Unfortunately, his dinner has…contaminated part of the scene.” 

While they were talking, y/n quietly lifted her camera and started taking pictures. 

The medical examiner lifted the sheet. She took another picture but paused. 

She took a shaky step back and bumped into something. Gloved hands steadied her by her elbows. 

“Oh,” Batman said softly. He put it together quicker than she had. Her brain was scrambling to keep up. The girl on the ground was a bloody mess, face down, legs sprawled like she’d tried to run. She was wearing a similar outfit to y/n–leggings, sweater, running shoes. 

But that wasn’t where the similarities ended. 

The height, the body shape, the hair color, even the shade of her skin…

The woman looked like y/n. 

She didn’t realize she was shaking until Batman gently squeezed her elbows. 

“Shit,” Gordon said. He must not have seen the body when he first arrived on the scene. 

“Don’t look,” Batman said in her ear, pulling her away, his voice conjuring–of all people–Bruce Wayne. It was just her mind reaching for something familiar, comfortable, safe. She shook the thought away. The vigilante turned her around and held her close. “Don’t look,” he said again. 

She closed her eyes against the wave of emotion. Her stomach swooped dangerously. She’d seen a dead body or two before but not–not like this. 

“Guess we have confirmation, then,” Gordon said softly. She didn’t have to ask what confirmation they had. She knew already, her gut telling her what exactly had happened despite its churning. 

Someone had killed that woman because it looked like her. 

They knew what she looked like. They knew well enough to kill someone even with the chance it might not be her. 

Which meant they were desperate and that it was only a matter of time before they found her. 

“Come on, you need to get out of here,” Gordon said, and this time he had her by the arm. He pulled her along, the vigilante cutting a path through the crowd before them. 

Her mind was blank. The shock of seeing a body, of imaging her own in its place, had wiped everything clean. She didn’t protest as Gordon bundled her into the passenger seat of his car. At least he didn’t put me in the back like a criminal, she thought almost deliriously. 

Batman stood in the open door, staring down at her. She wasn’t sure when he’d gotten there but now he was filling her vision. Her eyes traced the planes of his armor, wondering what he looked like underneath, who he was. There were dings and scrapes in places, physical memories of past fights. 

“I’m going to find who did this,” he said. His voice pitched impossibly lower. “And keep an eye out for you.” 

This made her snap out of it. “You can’t be in two places at once.” He had black paint around his eyes. She hadn’t noticed before. 

The barest smirk on his lips as he looked away. She couldn’t tell what color his eyes were in the darkness of the night. “You don’t know that for sure.” 

She snorted. “You’re right. Maybe you’re some sort of mutant freak. Besides dressing like a bat, you know.” Despite the joking, her hands shook. She tucked them between her thighs. 

“Listen,” he said, serious again. There was a note of steel in the word. His voice was so low she could feel it as a vibration on her skin. “Stop sneaking out at night. It’s too dangerous.” 

She nodded vaguely but didn’t actually make the promise. If they wanted her dead, Wayne Tower wasn’t going to stop them. Slow them down, maybe, but not stop them. She needed to put the puzzle pieces together, and fast. They were getting closer to figuring out who she was, but she and Gordon and even the Batman only vaguely knew who they were dealing with. They needed to even the score. 

“Then give me your phone number so you can be my bodyguard,” she said. She was half teasing. 

The Batman seemed to consider it. Her eyes went past him as the gurney passed with the body on it. She shuddered and he stepped to block her view. 

“If you have to leave, let Gordon know and one of us will come. But only if you have to.” 

“Right,” she scoffed. “You’re allergic to texting.” And probably don’t want a reporter having your phone number, she silently added. 

Batman stepped back and then Gordon was there. He put one hand on the top of the car and leaned in, expression as serious as she’d ever seen it. “I’m taking you straight home and you’re going to stay there, alright?” 

She waved a hand but nodded. Satisfied, he shut the passenger door. She could hear muffled voices as he said something to Batman. Probably berating him for bringing her to the crime scene in the first place. Or telling him something he didn’t want her to hear. 

Within a couple of minutes, Gordon was sliding behind the wheel. 

“How’d you even know where to go?” he asked as they drove. 

“Police scanner app.” 

He glanced over at her. “I hate those things,” he muttered. “What happened to quid pro quo? I would have called you.” 

She bit her lip and shrugged. “I can’t just sit around waiting for someone to shoot me in the head.” She shivered at the image she now had of what, exactly, that looked like. 

“So you’re going to take yourself right to their doorstep instead?” 

“With the way my luck is going lately, it’s only a matter of time anyway. Might as well get as much done as I can first.” She hated to be so casual about it, but she had had really shit luck lately. There was no use hiding from it. If she didn’t leave Wayne Tower, they would probably find a way to break in. Or send a sniper after her. She thought about the times she’d leaned against the windows in the study and a chill went up her spine. 

“All you’ve done is traumatize yourself and give me a headache,” he said around a sigh. He really did sound like a tired dad half the time, she mused. She leaned her head back and watched the dark streets of Gotham pass by. She was reminded of another night in Gotham, years ago, on the back of a motorcycle with Bruce. 

She pushed the memory away and said, “I’ll pay for a bottle of ibuprofen.” 

Gordon laughed softly. “Listen, I know you reporter types are always rushing into danger, but this is your life. Can’t write the story if you’re dead. Text me if you have to go anywhere, and either I’ll come or send someone I trust.” 

“Okay,” she said. “But if it takes too long I might leave anyway.” She smiled so he would know she was at least partially kidding. “Have you learned anything new?” 

Gordon was silent for so long she knew it was bad news. He parked right in front of Wayne Tower–illegally, she might add. 

He turned to face her, his hands idly resting on his knees. “It’s definitely the Gallo family. And another of the suspects we caught is dead. Apparent suicide, but we aren’t so sure. The third one is under around the clock protection, but…”  

“Shit,” she said. Now she was the one with a headache. “That is…bad.” 

“Can you see why I want you to stay home now?” he asked pleadingly. “Like it or not, I’m responsible for keeping you alive. If we can catch the last guy and get him and the other to trial…you’re an important witness. The only witness.” 

“Aw, and here I was thinking you were starting to like me.”

A tightening at the corners of his mouth told her he was trying not to smile. “Let me walk you upstairs.” 

“Do you see all the security in there? I’ll be fine.” She gestured towards the lobby. It definitely looked more like a swanky prison these days, even at night when no employees were in the lower floors of the building. 

“I wanted to see if I could talk to Bruce Wayne.” 

Y/n did a double take. Just the sound of his name made her stomach tighten almost painfully. “Why? To tattle on me? Bruce Wayne is not my keeper. He’s not my anything.” She immediately bit her tongue. She’d said too much with that last sentence, let too much of her hurt and bitterness in. 

“I want to talk to him about his security, see if we can bolster it with our officers somehow.” Gordon was already up and out of the car. She scrambled to keep up, briefly getting caught in her seatbelt before yanking it off and hopping out. 

Gordon flashed his badge to the security. They all relaxed not at seeing it, but at seeing y/n. 

“You better talk to Alfred then, if he’s awake. He’s more in charge of that stuff than Bruce. He’s with me, it’s fine.” She said the last part to the concerned security guard–the new one whose name she still hadn’t learned, the one who had called the police for her the night she’d witnessed the murders. He was in charge of the night shift security, apparently. She wondered if he resented being the only guy at the desk at night to having a whole team around. Or maybe it was less lonely. 

Gordon followed her into the private residential elevator. “Be that as it may, I’d like to speak to Mr. Wayne too.” 

She sighed but hit the button to take them up to the residential part of Wayne Tower. “You really sound like a dad,” she muttered under her breath. 

Gordon cut his eyes at her then smiled. 

The elevators opened, and there was Alfred, already dressed and waiting. Security must have called up, warning him the detective was coming. Had he even gone to bed? She was starting to think that Alfred might be nocturnal. Or maybe he didn’t sleep at all. That was new–she and Bruce had gotten in trouble many times when they were younger for interrupting his precious sleep. These days he always seemed to be dressed impeccably, even late at night. 

“Detective,” Alfred said pleasantly. He briefly narrowed his eyes at her. “How can I help you?” 

Y/n idly scuffed her foot against the floor, suddenly feeling like a teenager again. She had always been caught either sneaking out or sneaking back in. Alfred had a knack for it. Or maybe she wasn’t as good as Bruce had been, who had been caught only twice that she could remember. 

Gordon nodded politely. “Is Mr. Wayne feeling better? I’d like to talk to the both of you.” 

“I would like to add here that it’s not sneaking out if I’m a grown woman,” y/n said helpfully. 

Alfred’s eyes narrowed again before he turned his focus back to Gordon. “Mr. Wayne is out.” 

Now y/n was narrowing her eyes at Alfred. He caught her looking. She raised one eyebrow. Was he street racing again? She remembered the bruises on his knuckles. Or part of an illegal fight club? Neither would surprise her. 

Another thought struck and stole her breath. 

Maybe Bruce had a girlfriend. 

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” Gordon asked. His tone was carefully neutral. 

“Well, as I was just told, the rules are different for grown men–and women. He comes and goes as he pleases and rarely includes me in his plans.” Alfred was being too professional with it. His tone was too flat. Oh yeah, Bruce was definitely up to something, and Alfred definitely knew exactly what it was. Fuck, she thought desperately. She couldn’t breathe. Alfred would know if Bruce had a girlfriend and he knew her well enough to hide it from her. 

Why did the thought of Bruce with another woman hurt so much, even three years later? I don’t love you and I never will, he had said that night. 

Which meant he was perfectly capable of loving someone else. 

Y/n bit her lip until the pain made the panic recede. 

“Of course,” Gordon said in an equally flat, professional tone. “I wanted to chat about security measures. There was another murder tonight, and while I can’t give details of an ongoing investigation…it definitely seems like y/n is a target.” 

She cringed, remembering how eerily similar the body had been to hers. Who had the woman been? She hadn’t gotten a name, an age. But she felt like she should know these things if the woman had died in her place. What if she was only the first? Would they kill every woman who looked close enough to y/n before they caught her?

Alfred blinked in surprise, the professional facade slipping. “I–of course, let’s go into my office.” 

Y/n wanted to go with them but decided against it. It really would be smarter to listen to Gordon. If she needed to leave, she would get an escort, even if it was Alfred. He may walk with a cane but she knew he was secretly pretty spry. He’d been a spy or soldier or something in his younger years, before coming to work for the Waynes. 

“Goodnight, Alfred,” she said, taking a half-step towards the hall that led to her room. “And thanks, Gordon.” 

They both nodded and bid her goodnight before disappearing towards the study. 

Y/n waited a second then darted to the elevator. The other elevator. Bruce’s. 

She didn’t really have a plan other than to see with her own two eyes that Bruce was gone and not just hiding. 

She hit the button for what was once the garage and again, nothing happened. She frowned at it and hit it several more times. Still nothing. 

What if Bruce was down there with a woman, showing her his cars? Or–She shut the thought down and mashed the button one more time, knowing it was futile. 

With a curse, she stepped back out. 

Fine, she would go to bed and leave Bruce alone. It didn’t matter if he was wrecking illegally souped up cars or beating someone’s face in and following the first rule of fight club. It didn’t matter if he was with a woman he might love more than he ever loved her. 

It didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.

Except, as much as she hated to admit it, he did.

Next Chapter

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Prowl x Human reader

Prowl masterlist

(Chapter2) (chapter 3)

(Chapter 4)

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: swearing, forced proximity

Request and ask open, read pinned post

_________________

The sound of running echoes through the storage house. Prowl halted his advancement with an irritated vent, doorwings fluttering in agitation. His investigation had led him here but now he was in a chase. 

Instead, a tiny fleshling's escape had disrupted everything. Watching it flee in panic, he briefly considered the merits of giving chase versus simply calling for backup. But allowing an organic to get themself killed wasn't something he wished to write out reports over. 

With a muttered Cybertronian curse, Prowl continues  giving chase. lights flickering to illuminate the warehouse's shadowy depths. His scanners locate the human's heat signature as they continue running and throwing things behind them to try and stall him. 

The human takes off under more shelving, taking an opportunity to throw a paint can in Prowl's direction, he swiftly raises an arm to block the flying projectile with an irritated hiss. When they try to scale the scaffolding, his strides lengthen enough to gently yet firmly enclose grasping fingers around their torso before more perilous stunts could be pulled.

"Desist this behaviour at once," he droned, holding the squirming human away from his body protectively but firmly. His doorwings twitched in irritation.

"I said I would not harm you. Now explain or I shall be forced to manually sedate you." His tone remained dispassionate though patience waned. He needed to know where the other traffickers were, if there were others. 

Cooled air blew from his vents as piercing optics assessed the organic, ever analytic processor weighing their next move.

Panicked breathes come from them as they squirm, "let me go!, let me go!" They shriek. Prowl suppressed another irritated groan at the tiny organic's persistent shrieks and useless struggles against his secure yet harmless grip. 

With another exasperated vent, "Cease this immediately. Panic will not aid your predicament. Now answer: how did you come to be here?"

"I don't know! You fucking kidnapped me!" They shout. Prowl cycled his vents with long-suffering patience, doorwings fluttering with barely-contained irritation. These organic creatures proved taxing. 

"I can assure you with 100% certainty that I did not 'fucking' kidnap you," he replied dryly. "Were that the case, would I now be wasting valuable processor power tolerating these hysterics instead of my intended operation?" 

Optics remained focused on them, Patience thinning, "I require information." His biolights flashed exasperatedly. "Now stop flaying. I intercepted your traffickers' signal and followed it to this warehouse,Tell me of your captors - numbers, appearance, probable location. I will terminate their operation, then see you to safety and medical care." Slowly he brought the creature closer, servos cupping protectively, Prowl raised an orbital ridge, vocals polished with aloof confidence. 

"I don't know asshat!I don't know, they kept me locked in a box, I could only hear them or see them when they brought me food" they whimper. while trying to hit his servo with their hand, wanting him to let go. Prowl cycled another steadying ventilation, recognizing the human was spent more than expected after the distressing ordeal. 

 His doorwings tilted slightly lower in a posed effort to seem less intimidating. "Very well." He resigned himself to improvising. "You require medical care and safety until you can be relocated. You will come with me back to the station."

His call brought over an enforcement cruiser, he filled them in on the situation. After he's done he transforms Depositing the human inside not so gently as he takes off, Prowl coordinated his team via comms to wrap up operations.The drive proceeded in uncomfortable silence.

Prowl's doorwings flickered tautly as he faced off against a surprisingly immovable Optimus Prime, it was rather strange seeing him back in the force. 

"With all due respect, Prime, you cannot expect me or any other officer to alter standard duties caring for an unruly petro-rabbit," he retorted coolly. "It creates disruption and liability. The logical solution remains finding accommodations better suited among its own kind."

Optimus' field pulsed mild reproof. "Prowl, the human has no such option, until a ship can be organised for safe transport,  No one has come forward for guardianship, and due to the circumstances I doubt anyone will. It now falls to you." His tone allowed no argument.

Prowl suppressed a disgruntled noise. "While protecting all sentient life aligns with your doctrine, I have covered several orns of duties already and can not be diverted to care for this...squishy."

“Prowl this is not up for debate” Optimus states, it makes Prowl want to snarl back at him but he holds back storming out of the office, picking up the human as he goes. 

Despite Prowl's protest the human ends up in his guardianship, and he is forced to take them back to his apartment. The drive is rather uneventful; both of them are quite not wishing to speak to the other. And he's not happy about the situation. 

Prowl set them down none-too-gently upon a seating unit in his private hab, before whirling to pace agitatedly across polished flooring. His doorwings flared in sharp, irritated angles. “Ow what the fuck asshole!” Thye shout while rubbing their sore joints. 

"This situation has become utterly untenable," he spat without glancing at the organic, servos gesticulating crisply to emphasise each word. "I am a law enforcer and tactician, not a crèche worker to cater to some fleshy creature disrupting my operations” 

He jabbed an emphatic digit toward the human. "You will remain here, while I am absent. Do not wander or touch anything. Refuel only at designated intervals so as not to inconvenience me further."

Prowl knew he should modulate for the soft sensory packages organics possessed. But rationality abandoned him in the face of such unprecedented upheaval to his routine.

"Once communications are restored, the earliest ship will relocate you back to your kind. Until then..." He cycled a furious ventilation. "Do not compromise my operations or wander further than your unwanted presence already has." His frustrated field pulsed like an agitated bear, before he spun on a heelstrut moving to his table to overlook datapads and check how things had been progressing. He begins taking comm calls as he types away. 

They flip him off, turning their back to him, their eyes linger on the soft cloth Prowl had laying on the table. They look back at him, eyes linger for a moment watching him argue over comms with others but at that moment they didn't care, they were sore, tired and just wanted to sleep. His engine revved with barely-contained outrage. How dare that little organic upset his living space so profoundly

Prowl paced in his office, doors twitching erratically as comm traffic flooded with commentary on his new "ward." Finally he slammed a fist on the console, engines snarling. "The first transport capable will deliver it back through the spacebridge."

He jabbed frustratedly at a datapad, recalibrating schedules disrupted by this nonsense. Unwelcome surprise flashed across his HUD."first ship available, you are gone. Until then, do not tax what remains of my patience." His words were scorching weapons aimed to inflict. 

They ignore him moving towards the cloth, curling themself into it and making a makeshift bed and blanket. Shivers rack their body over how cold the apartment is but they aren't willing to say anything instead turning away from Prowl and hunkering down into the cloth.

 Green makes her presence known with noises, the flyt taking to Prowl's shoulders, chirping at her owner as she snuggles against prowl. Prowl vented hot air through clenched dental plates, 

His plating clamped tighter as Green chirps around his helm in useless attempts to soothe. With a swat, he sent the pet flying off in a frustrated burst of motion. Even his flyt pet proved irritating at that moment!

They let out a choked up gasp as Prowl picks them up, wrapped in the cloth, "where are you taking me!" They shout. Prowl rumbled with barely-restrained ire as he carried the bundled human toward his personal berth. "Silence," he snapped when it squealed. "I require recharge and will not suffer your disruptions further." Cycling another vent, as stomped toward his hab suite. A brief check of climate controls explained the shivering organic - it was no wonder, given the mech ran hotter.

With a few taps, the thermostat warmed to a more suitable temperature.  He moves towards the berth dumping them onto the hard surface, Prowl loomed over the human once more, entire frame radiating impatience.

His plating clamped taut as he deposited it onto the berth beside himself, looming over the tiny squishy form. "You will remain here undisturbing while I power down," he hissed, Biolights flashing irritably.

Green tries to investigate what had taken her spot on the berth only for Prowl to knock her away, when the flyer pestered, Prowl scooped up the human bundle none-too-gently. "Cause me any disruption and you will face consequences fully." With that less-than-comforting threat, Prowl grumbled low in his chassis and shuttered his optics, forcing stiff joints and wire-frazzled processors to unwind through firm self-discipline.

They squirm lightly trying to get comfortable, they eventually find themself pressed against Prowl's chassis, it's warm and the sound from it eventually lures them to sleep, cloth wrapped around their body. Their eyes shut, out of exhaustion as they cuddle against the mech.

Prowl peepers down beside him, entire frame tensing at the unwelcome sensation. He glanced down to find the human entangled against his chassis plates, curled almost...comfortably? beneath the outer edges of his field.

Green buzzed overhead, clearly agitated at losing her favoured recharge spot. Prowl shot the flyt a warning look, bidding her silence. His processor whirled, examining how to extricate from this undignified scenario without disturbing the human.

His field registered its small organic frame finally relaxing in restful recharge, tiny vents puffing soft exhalations against his plating. Prowl cycled a quiet ventilation, surprised by the peculiar gentleness such a fragile life exuded up close.

It unnerved him. As did the grudging tenderness prompting him to simply remain, allowing recharge to continue undisturbed. Prowl glared at nothing, discomfited. 

The human meant nothing - a temporary obligation soon rectified. Yet...he did not move to dislodge them either, His engine rumbled ever-so-softly, His field pulsed disturbance even as recharge didn't come to him, systems fighting the illogic of sharing space with such a fragile life form. But it would have to do until he could be rid of the organic contaminating his dwelling at last. Pit takes the inconvenience...

Just a klik. Then order would resume, they would be gone soon enough. 

[seniorpollinationtechnician]

The ORION team stumbled across a previously undiscovered planet during a routine atmospheric probe. Their spacecraft, equipped with advanced long-range scanners, detected unusual energy signatures emanating from an uncharted region of space. Initially, the readings were faint and erratic but as they drew closer, the signals grew stronger and more distinct, piquing their curiosity. That next morning, before the debriefing, each team member meticulously prepared for the mission. Jorlan started by running diagnostics on all their devices. While waiting, he delved into the latest data collected from their recent missions and analyzed the raw data streams in order to compile the data into a series of comprehensive reports, complete with visualizations to make the information more accessible for the team. Zerath began his day long before anyone else with a demanding training session. Afterward, he reviewed the latest intelligence reports with Zyri. He considered various scenarios they might encounter, from ambushes to environmental hazards, and outlined responses for each. Meanwhile, Zyri tried to decipher the energy signatures to no avail. Velana spent the morning in the laboratory where she conducted final analyses on biological samples collected from their latest expedition. Each observation was carefully documented, contributing to the growing body of knowledge about the new life forms they encountered. Despite extensive records, there was nothing that could prepare them for what was to come. As each team member entered the briefing room, they were greeted by a large, central table surrounded by ergonomic chairs, each equipped with individual data screens. The room’s walls were adorned with interactive displays showing real-time data feeds, star charts, and mission objectives. The central holographic projector hummed to life, displaying a rotating 3D model of the planet they were orbiting. The planet's surface appeared rugged, a vast expanse of reddish-brown terrain marked by deep canyons. Dust storms swept across the surface, creating an 3D render of swirling particles. Velana stood at the center of the room, her eyes scanning the holographic display that projected a detailed topographical map. "Preliminary scans indicate a complex network of underground caverns," she began, "These caverns may harbor unique alien life forms adapted to the harsh, subterranean environment." Zyri tapped her datapad and outlined a few zones of interest. "There are also unusual energy signatures emanating from deep within the caverns. If we can decipher their source, it may open new avenues." Zerath stepped forward, his expression serious. "While the scientific prospects are promising, we must proceed with extreme caution. The unstable terrain and frequent dust storms pose significant risks. We don't know what kind of creatures might be lurking in those dark caverns and any misstep could be deadly. Stay alert and stick to the safety protocols." Jorlan stepped up and tried to surpress a smile as he tapped his handheld device to project schematics on the center console. "Before we go, I’ve got a new piece of equipment that I’ve been dying to field-test: a helmet. It isn’t just about protection; it’s equipped with an integrated augmented reality display, advanced environmental sensors, and a real-time communication system.” He carefully pulled out a few high-tech masks, placing them on the table with a sense of pride. The masks were impressive, designed with a sleek, modern aesthetic that spoke of advanced engineering. The main body of each mask was made of a lightweight, durable material with a matte black finish, giving them a streamlined, almost futuristic look. Across the front, a curved transparent panel covered the mouth area, allowing for clear visibility of the wearer's facial expressions while still providing protection. As the debriefing came to an end, the ORION team geared up and prepared to descend to the planet's surface.