#small relay on ship system

[third-generation-female-warrior]

While lounging on the beach of Pabu, enjoying the sun and listening to an underground Rebel News Frequency, Hunter hears that a "courageous blond pilot blew up an Imperial space station/super weapon, making an impossible shot after disabling the targeting system of their x-wing."

And, upon hearing this news, he calmly goes to the nearest long-range comm relay, gets in touch with Rex, where the following conversation happens:

Hunter: SHE DID WHAT?!?!?!

Rex: What? Who?

Hunter: I KNOW OMEGA BLEW UP THAT SPACE STATION! I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU'D KEEP AN EYE ON HER!

Rex: OH! Oh, no, that wasn't Omega, nor did she have anything to do with it. Yeah, I was shocked too, until I learned that the pilot's name was Skywalker- yeah, that Skywalker. My General's son- yeah, no, crazy, you knew about the secret wife, too, right? Yeah, small galaxy, but it wasn't Omega. No, she was hijacking an Imperial freighter on the other side of the galaxy. Of course, she still blew up a shipping depot while doing it, but she didn't blow up the Death Star, totally different mission.

[arosebyanyother-name]

Vulcan Philosophy

some Spock fluff and smut for all the autictic babes out there, it can be tough but at least we have Spock!

content warning for explicit content, mention of being suicidal and infertile. hope you all enjoy!

word count: 4224

You pace your cabin, running your fingers through your hair. You need to be medicated, or self medicated at least. What was it you used to do back on earth? Besides drink that is. Your life back there seems so long ago now...

You’d always been prone to bouts of depression, sudden erratic moments, and on earth you’d seen psychologist after psychologist with no long term effect, so you’d taken to philosophy to heal yourself, to alter your perception of the world (sans alcohol), and by extension yourself.

So, you now give yourself an ultimatum; seek out Doctor McCoy, your friend, and confess your dark thoughts to him in the hope of gaining some tranquilising drugs, or journey to the ships physical library whilst everyone else on board sleeps, in search of a philosophy book new and unfamiliar to you. You'd rather not wake Bones, so the answer is simple. You slip a standard issue Starfleet sweater over your slip, don your boots and head out through the halls.

The Enterprise’s physical library is small and comprised mostly of books belonging to the crew. They’d slowly accumulated, and an informal borrowing system was established. On long expeditions a fresh book to lay your eyes on could banish all cabin fever, at least that's what you hope.

The doors to the dimly lit library slide open, and you step inside. The lights switch on, alerted by your presence, and alerting you to a figure standing a few paces in front of you. You jump, a symptom of your usual skittishness, and the figure turns his head to you, slow, calculated, not surprised at all.

“Good evening lieutenant (Y/L/N). Did my presence startle you?” he speaks.

“Evening Captain Spock,” you nod to him. “It’s such a quiet night, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here, especially not in the dark.”

“Vulcan eyes are far more sensitive than those of humans. I can see perfectly well in dim light.”

“So I’ve been told…” you both spend a few moments in silence, watching for the other to speak. Spock doesn’t feel the need to say anything more, and you’re trying to calculate what you should say next. “Are you very familiar with the books in this collection?”

“Yes. I have read most of them, 93 to be exact.”

“Do you know if there are any philosophy books here? I’m searching for something new to read.”

“I placed a book on Vulcan philosophical theory here a few weeks ago,” he searches for it, and as he does you study him. He’s stoic, you can hardly read him at all, though he’s more generous than you expected him to be, having only conversed with him in a professional setting. He isn’t cold, thought you has assumed he would be. Spock locates the book and hands it to you, watching you as he does. You take it, and open it.

“Thank you Mr Spock, unfortunately I don’t understand Vulcan. I tried to take a Vulcan language class during my studies, but unfortunately I didn’t have any units to spare,” you reply, handing it back to him. He places it back on the book shelf at eye level.

“You are interested in the Vulcan ways?” he inquires.

“I am. I learned a little about Surak, who I understand to be the founder of your peoples contemporary philosophy, in a philosophy class during my studies, and of course at the academy also. It was very rudimentary, but it certainly piqued my interest.”

As you speak you notice something come across Spock’s face, not an emotion, no, but a glint in his dark Vulcan eyes, something interested, something changed.

“Then perhaps you would allow me to relay the basics of Vulcan philosophy to you in greater detail myself.”

“I’d enjoy that very much Mr Spock, very much,” you reply, and flash a small smile.

“Will you accompany me to my quarters?” he asks. You nod in reply, a little taken aback, trying to hide it. 

Spock is extremely matter of fact, he’s clear. Many people on board speak in vague colourful metaphors that confuse you, so speaking to Spock is incredibly refreshing. The sliding door opens and he extends an arm, allowing you to exit first. This isn’t exactly the solitary night of reading you thought it would be, but you figure it will work much the same to distract you from your racing thoughts.

Spock guides you down the hall and into his quarters, allowing you to enter first. The decor is a welcome change from the sterile design of the Enterprise. It’s warm, cozy even, and quite unexpected.

“Vulcan incense,” you comment absentmindedly, letting your eyes roam the room.

“Does this scent please you?”

“Yes, very much.”

Spock invites you to sit with him on his weaved meditation mat, legs crossed. You face each other, only inches away from touching. He begins speaking almost immediately, embarking on a long and very well structured tangent about logic, self-control and mastry over the mind.

“But logic is only the beginning of self-knowledge, not the end,” He speaks. In an instant you suddenly begin to sob, overwhelmed by your emotions. Bursting into tears out of the blue is an uncommon occurrence for you, and you’re sure you’ve startled Spock with your outburst.

"Has something I've said upset you?" he asks evenly, brought out of his meditative monologue by your heaving sobs. You shake your head, hunching over to hide your face. You can’t speak, and you wouldn’t be able to explain yourself even if you could. Spock assesses you for a moment, brows furrowed, before leaning in closer to you.

"Will you permit me?" Spock asks, and you raise your head to look at him. He’s holding his right hand close to your face, four fingers millimetres away from your skin. You nod your head despite not knowing exactly what’s in store for you. He presses his fingers onto your face, it’s the first contact you’ve had with another human in weeks. You close your eyes and so does he as he begins to probe your mind.

You’re somewhat resistant at first, but quickly come to understand he means you no harm. It’s a strange feeling to connect so intimately, mind to mind, no barriers, no filters, no room for a little white lie.

Before you know it you’ve stopped sobbing, and although you feel much calmer your tears will not stop falling. You can hear him in your mind, so quiet, so calm. He’s found what’s ailing you, and he silences it. You let out a deep breath, feeling more at ease now than you have in weeks. Spock sits with his hand grazing your face for a few more moments before pulling away. He opens his eyes, assessing you silently. You want to thank him, you want to jump up and hug him, make him understand the service he has done for you, but you restrain yourself, an easier task after your meld. The two of you sit in silence for minutes before you choose to speak again, even and tempered.

"You must feel… quite privileged," you comment. Spock furrows his brows in bewinderment. "To be able to traverse two world, to belong to both... yet I understand, from my own experience, that a sense of belonging does not always come easily." You end up sounding more vulnerable than you intended to.

"You understand?"

"I am biracial Captain Spock. For many years I was made to feel I didn't belong anywhere, though eventually I did find my own way, and was able to traverse between those two words contained within me," after you finish speaking Spock doesn't say a word, and the intensity with which he is watching you makes you speak again, going back on your own words. "I recognise, however, the vast difference between belonging to two seperate planets and two seperate countries. Maybe we are not so alike after all."

"Perhaps, lieutenant, we are more alike than even you would believe."

You think you hear emotion in his speech, affection, meaning beyond his words, but you’re quick to brush it off. You’ve been wrong about these things before, and there's no telling how wrong you could be when it comes to the emotions of a Vulcan (or lack there of).

“You must be tired,” you comment, standing.

“Vulcan’s require far less sleep than humans do,” he retorts innocently. You take his words point blank, attributing no other meaning to them.

“That I did not know Mr Spock. You will have to tell me more about Vulcan physiology sometime… sometime soon,” you walk to his door, and pause. “I might have been up all night but you have quieted my mind. Thank you.”

“You are welcome Lieutenant,” Spock says as he stands.

“And I like your Chagall,” you comment, gesturing toward the brightly coloured impressionistic figurative painting on his wall.

“You know his work?” Spock asks curiously. Evidently most people in Starfleet don’t appreciate art as much as they probably should.

“I specialise in art history and medical history. Chagall is a favourite painter of mine. His work touches me…” you trail off slightly, recognising your own vulnerability.

“Adam and Eve expelled from paradise, based on the old earth myth. It serves as a reminder that all things must come to an end,” he tells you, joining you at the door to his quarters.

“Yet many endings make way for beginnings also Mr Spock. Now, I will bid you goodnight.” You hush to a whisper. "Goodnight..."

As his door opens you feel him place something in your hand, and as you look down you see that it’s some of his Vulcan incense. His fingers touch yours briefly, and you feel a surge of energy move through you. Spock seems to shiver as he pulls his hand away, leaving you with the incense.

“Goodnight Lieutenant,” he says, and without saying another word you leave. He is left feeling somewhat puzzled, by your words, and by the sudden appearance of his ‘feelings’. You walk back to your quarters with a coy smile on your lips, staring down at the ‘gift’ Spock has given to you.

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

“Doctor?” you come knocking. The doctor has just sat down in his office connected to the med bay, preparing to eat his lunch.

“What’s wrong?” McCoy asks, already antsy, placing a spoon full of food back onto his plate.

“Nothing, nothing. I just came to chat,” you reply. You stand there for a moment awkwardly, McCoy staring at you with a puzzled look, then he works out what you’re waiting for.

“Will you please sit?” he asks, short temper evident despite his well meaning.

“Thank you… I spoke with captain Spock last night.”

“Is that so?” McCoy raises an eyebrow, taking a bite of his food.

“He melded with me,” you say finally. McCoy is shocked by your words, and by their abruptness.

“He what!?”

“He melded with me, last night. I was in a moment of crisis and he helped me, he fixed me, however momentarily.”

“How many times do I need to tell you that you do not need to be fixed, there is nothing wrong with you!” he yells. You look down to your hands, entwined anxiously in your lap, and nod. You know he’s right. “And how are you feeling today?”

“Better than I did yesterday, much better, but… distracted,” you reply, and he eyes you, silently telling you to elaborate. “I’m ovulating, I feel… itchy."

"Well I do believe you'll be able to deal with that yourself," he replies... you have other ideas.

Hours after leacing Mccoy's office he recieves yet another visitor.

“Dr McCoy, I do believe that Lieutenant (Y/N) is autistic,” Spock states in his usual matter of fact manner, completely unprovoked. McCoy looks up from a pile of paperwork as Spock interrupts his first moment of peace today. Sighing, McCoy sets down his pen and leans back in his chair.

“Being as I’m her doctor Spock don’t you think that’s something I’d already know?” he retorts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I cannot always be certain what you, as a doctor, know or do not know. Your observational skills are often lacking,” Spock replies, meaning no real malice. “She is also suicidal, sometimes else I thought should be brought to your attention... the concept of wanting to end ones own life is something I have never been able to understand.”

“Well aren’t you lucky,” McCoy huffs. “And don’t go telling other people what you just told me. That’s between (Y/N) and her doctor, it’s not for you to interfere. Knowing you you’ll probably louse things up even worse for her before you even realise it."

“And how exactly would I do that?” Spock retorts, sass evident.

“With your goddamn Vulcan mind probing, that’s how! You’re liable to send her into catatonia before you help her!”

“But doctor, I’ve already helped her,” Spock states calmly. McCoy stares blankly at him, silently cursing his obstinacy. “You can not cure her, no more than you can cure me of being Vulcan. You can not medicate her, you can not psychoanalyse her. (Y/N) is unable to control her reaction to others without serious repercussions, she is unable to regulate her own nervous system, control her emotions or her thoughts. I can quiet her mind, I can help her, and I intend to.”

“A Vulcan’s calculated risk, I guess there’s no point in arguing then, with you at least.”

“No.”

“Well, I have work to do and people who actually need my help.”

“I know you are fond of her doctor, I will not hurt her. She is... an intriguing human being.”

“Oh, is that what they call it on Vulcan?” 

“Call what, doctor?” Spock asks, but McCoy goes right back to his paperwork without another word. 

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

You've had a day and a half, everything seemed to overwhelm you, not least of which was the throbbing of your cunt and ovaries. You wriggle in your chair as you finish up your work day, unable to get the scent of Vulcan incense out of your mind. You can't take much more of this aching, and the closeness of your mind meld with Spock from the night before is painfully tantalising. Having finished working you practically spring down the hall to the Vulcan's door, thoughts racing, your bodily needs increasing. Reaching his door you knock, hoping he's alone inside. You've waited all day, you don't want to have to wait any longer to see him.

“Spock?”

“Yes."

“Mind meld with me,” you request, and he doesn’t question you. He trusts he will understand your intentions in time.

Spock places a hand on your shoulder and ushers you inside his quarters, closing the door behind you. He doesn’t ask you to sit down, nor does he wait for you to get comfortable; he senses your urgency. He takes a step towards you, and for the second time now he places four fingers to your face, meeting no resistance. You close your eyes.

Hesitance, though, he senses two fold. ‘Only if you want to’ he hears, ‘only if you want to’, then probes deeper. Suddenly your intentions are clear to him, abundantly clear, and you find yourself justifying your own thoughts, over explaining. A result of having spent so much of your life being misunderstood you now want him to understand absolutely everything. 

You open your eyes once again and find Spock staring at you. You shiver under his gaze, complete unable to read him; you can hear him though, or rather feel him, going deeper, deeper. It’s evident to you that he’s searching for a more logical explanation.

“Spock,” you whisper, your patience waining. You’ve given him all he needs, and willingly. You can sense his understanding. He reaches down with his free hand and brushes his index and middle fingers against yours before breaking the meld. “Spock,” you say again, even quieter now, pressing your fingers against his. He begins to run his hands over every part of your naked flesh, your hands and forearms, your face, lips, neck, chest. Vulcan fingers have more nerve endings than those of humans, you remember hearing that in the context of a dirty joke during your cadet days, so as much as you want to ask him what he’s feeling, how he experiences the sensation of his skin against your skin, you need not ask.

When he reaches your collar bones you reach down and pull your Starfleet dress over your head from the hem, leaving your body clad in a brasire are shorts. You turn your back to Spock and he reaches towards you, unclasping your bra. You let it drop to the floor, and drop your shorts also before turning back to him, now fully naked.

“Fascinating,” he comments quietly, and you notice a light green flush come over his cheeks. How handsome he looks in the dim candlelight of his room. You need him, now more than ever.

He does not stop to ask for your consent when he reaches your clevage, he knows for certain he does not need to. 

Feeling down he caresses your breasts, a hand on each. You feel his hands trembling slightly as they brush over your hard nipples.

“(Y/N),” Spock says breathily.

“Spock,” you reply. Reaching forward you run your hands over his clothed chest. Closing your eyes you savour the feeling. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head, dropping it on a nearby table. He’s hairy, and you didn’t expect that, but you enjoy it. You drop to your knees, caressing his hips and belly from below. “Please let me pleasure you,” you practically beg, eyes hungry and eyelids heavy. Spock takes a deep breath in, blinking hard, as if snapping himself out of some trance. His cool demeanor is quickly fading. 

“Vulcan physiology,” he begins to explain breathlessly, but you shake your head.

“Don’t talk, just show me. Please.”

Spock caresses your hair before turning his back to you, walking to his bathroom. You sigh, sitting back on your heels. You think your adamancy has scared him away. As you consider whether or not to get up and leave his quarters he produces himself from the bathroom, void of all clothes. You run your eyes over his body, this is the first time you’ll sleep with a non-Terran.

Of course your gaze eventually stops at his half hard cock, at least you assume it’s half hard. It looks somewhat similar to a human penis except the head comes to a slight point and has three rims. It excites you. He walks closer to you and you notice that he’s hairy all over, and that his cock is slightly barbed, rough looking, like nothing you’ve ever seen. It’s tinted green and slightly darker than the rest of his completion. You rock back onto your knees, looking up at your soon to be lover.

“May I?” you ask, and he lays a hand on your shoulder. You sense the answer even without him speaking. You take his Vulcan cock in your hand, stroking it a few times. It’s a strange sensation to you, like he wants to cling to your hand, to your every move. You notice he doesn't have testicles, they're internal you decide. Spock stares down at you with no expression on his face at all, so you make your next move, taking his hung cock in your mouth, just the tip at first, swirling your tongue around it, then you go deeper.

Spock’s body twitches, and as you look up at him, bobbing your head up and down, you see he’s raised an eyebrow. You’ve finally gotten to him, you think to yourself, he’s no longer able to project his appearance perfect composure. You find yourself wondering if blow jobs are common amongst Vulcans, you decide they aren’t.

Placing a hand on your shoulder now Spock slowly eases you off of his cock, rubbing your shoulder in circles. He needs you, in the biblical sense, and you can sense it. You can feel his lust radiating off of him. 

“Lie on the bed,” he finally speaks aloud, voice even and gruff, and taking your hand he helps you to your feet. You sit on the edge of his bed and shimmy your way up to his pillows, spreading your legs for him. He furrows his eyebrows, his lust for you growing. 

Spock climbs onto his bed, kneeling by your feet, then pulls you closer to him with a firm grip on your thighs. You breathe out a desperate moan, eyes closing, back arching. Knowing, even without seeing, that he is looking at you, you nod, and the Vulcan enters you, slowly, comfortably. He exhailes a sharp breath and you grasp for his left arm. Spock begins to move in and out of you, the multiple rims on his cock rubbing you just right. During his lovemaking your mind forgets all else, solely focused on the joing of your two bodies, as well as your minds, completely, holistically, in the persuit of a totally mutual pleasurable ecstacy. 

Eventually Spock lets his forehead rest on yours, both of you grunting in unison with each thrust. You haven’t been this close to a person in... in years, and for Spock it has been significantly longer than that. You wrap your arms around his body and pull him closer to you, closer to you, until you're practically one. Spock reaches down for your clit amd begins to rub it in circles, causing a gurgled cry to leave your lips.

"Spock!" you cry into his neck, tears prickling your eyes as he finally pushes you over the edge. Your body convulses as his tenses, and Spock exhales grunt after grunt into the smokey air, the pleasure of his cock melding with the pleasure of his fingers.

You both come down slowly, panting and wet, and to your amazememnt Spock embraces you as you lay beside one another, holding you with just the right amount of pressure to calm you from your reeling orgasm. Spock smoothes your hair, and minutes later he speaks again.

“I understand your reasons, but I do not accept them,” he says suddenly in a way that sounds very calculated to you, as if he’d spent minutes deciding on what should be said.

“What do you mean?” you question, turning to him with furrowed brows.

“I am old,” he states, as if that were not obvious to you. 

“And I have never related to people my own age, not even to people like myself,” you explain.

“That still does not account for physical attraction,” he tells you.

“Even after our lovemaking you doubt my physical sttrsction to you?”

“Being physically attracted to a man my age is not logical.” “And was it not you who said that logic is only the beginning of self-knowledge?” “Yes,” he replies, not quite taking your point. 

“It would be logical for me to find a mate, yes?” you ask, and Spock nods once. “But to my knowledge I am infertile, I have no need for a mate, nor would I choose anyone my own age if I did… your physical appearance is very pleasing to me Spock.” “As is yours to me,” he replies instantly.

“And surely, as a human, I need not be governed solely by logic. We are illogical by design, though to me my attraction to you seems very logical.”

You stand and begin to walk towards Spock’s bathroom in order to clean yourself up. Feeling liquid trickle down your thighs you look down to inspect yourself, and are surprised to see a dark substance escaping from you.

“Oh, that’s funny.” you comment. “I think I’ve started menstruating.”

“That is merely my Vulcan semen,” he informs you, and immidately your cheeks heat up. Spock is quick to notice the change in your colouring. “Do not be embarrased, you did not know,” he reassures you. Spock rises also now, making his way to his bathroom to retrieve a clean damp cloth for you. “Sit,” he says gently, and you sit on a stool made of wood from his home planet. He crouches down before you and cleans you up. He’s attentive, and so gentle. You’re so shocked by this show of affection that you don’t know what to say, but Spock can sense this. “I hope this will not be the last time we partake in this entanglement,” he stands, sits beside you on the stool and lays the cloth beside him. “It would displease me if it were.”

You wrap your arms around him suddenly, pulling his naked body to yours. Spock does not know how to respond at first but quickly becomes comfortable in your embrace, content even. He pulls you to him also, rubbing his hands up and down the expanse of your bare back. 

“Will you allow to teach you the Vulcan ways?” he asks.

“I’d be delighted Spock,” you pause for a moment, reveling in the sound of his breath and the feeling of his heart beating against your side before you speak again. “Do not let me go.”

Your intended double meaning is not lost on him.

“I do not intend to.”

[roanofarcc]

BABYDOLL: CHAPTER TWENTY. P4L

jj maybank x fem!routledge OC // read on Ao3

In which a boy with zero self preservation falls in love with a girl clawing at life.

chapter summary. the pgues host a toast for john b. the night lottie's supposed to be taken in by DCS; however, someone new steps up to the routledge parental plate

note: alt. title to this fic is "Pogues vs. Several Terrible 'Parental' Figures; we're done with season 1!! I also want to note that S2 will still be centered around Pope, Lottie's just here to add extra drama :)

word count. 1.8k || masterlist

previous chapter < > END OF SEASON 1

An axe hacked away at the bark of the large tree that stood in the Routledge’s backyard. Pope cleared a heart-shaped spot of the tree’s bark away before dropping the axe onto the grass. JJ stepped up the heart next, making quick work with a blowtorch and a crowbar, forming a makeshift branding tool to burn writing one would typically find on a tombstone. 

There was no body found after John B. and Sarah sailed into the storm; there was no one to bury. So, the Pogues held their own funeral in Lottie’s backyard, watching her brother’s name, their birth year, and his death year be burned into the tree that had been there their whole life. JJ added P4L along with the other writing. It stood for Pogues for Life, a cheesy saying that John B. coined one night after one too many stolen beers. 

“To John B. and Sarah,” Kie toasted with a can of beer. They all followed suit, paying their form of respect to the dead before downing their drinks. 

For a while, they all just stood there, each silently saying their peace. Lottie bowed her head and closed her eyes. She didn’t really believe in a higher power, but she liked to think her brother’s death didn’t mean he simply ceased to exist. Maybe he was somewhere where he could hear her, or maybe someone listening could relay her message. 

She told him she was sorry for a lot of things. Maybe there was something she could have done differently to change the outcome. But she hadn’t, and she didn’t. That was something she’d have to live with. 

After the small memorial, JJ lit a fire, and they gathered around it with a case of beer and heavy hearts. Every now and then, JJ would crack a joke and get them to small. Pope stared at the fire and occasionally made himself busy tossing twigs into it. Kie shared a seat with Lottie, her head resting on Lottie’s shoulder.

Lottie took in her friends, drinking in her last night there with them. It was silly, really, trying to memorize faces she’d never be able to forget and that she’d see again soon. But moments like that one would be far and few between once Lottie was shipped off to a foster home until she turned eighteen and no longer needed a legal guardian to be responsible for her. It was only a year, but it seemed like a lifetime apart from her friends. 

Somehow, Shoupe managed to hold off DCS for one more day, allowing Lottie a proper goodbye. All she needed was their presence, even in the quiet, it was enough for her to capture in her mind for moments down the road when she missed them. 

For hours, they stayed around the fire, sharing memories with sad smiles until night enveloped them. 

Kie ended up falling asleep in the hammock, and Pope knocked out on the plastic chair, curled up with an emptied beer hand hugged to his chest. It was just Lottie and JJ awake, neither one ready to turn in for the night. 

They slipped off to the dock, leaving their friends to sleep in peace under the stars while they talked beside the water. 

“All of this and you still have to go with DCS,” JJ said with a sigh. They were right back where they started. Lottie was being split up from her brother, but without hopes of eventually being reunited. She didn’t have the same fight he had against the system, not anymore. 

“‘S not fair,” JJ muttered. 

“Yeah,” Lottie said, leaning against the railing that creaked at the contact.

A beat of silence passed between them before JJ said, “Usually you bullshit some ‘bright side’ at this point.” 

It usually kept her sane, thinking a bright side to every shitty situation. “Don’t have it me, I guess.” 

“School’s gonna suck,” JJ complained. 

Lottie hadn’t thought of it, but school neared. She’d have to start at a new one and meet new people. Would she tell people she was a twin? Would they ask where her other half was? Was she supposed to tell them the whole story? 

She’d miss out on studying with Pope, conning JJ into doing his homework, and sneaking out of gym class with Kie. 

“You’ve still gotta go, though,” Lottie reminded him. JJ hated school and had since almost the very start. He had talked about dropping out a million different times, acting like he simply didn’t give a shit, but that wasn’t true. He had told Lottie once, one night when they were trying to study, that he didn’t feel smart enough for it. Lottie told him that was bullshit, just his dad’s words getting to him. 

He didn’t reply, and Lottie shifted her gaze onto him. “I’m serious, JJ.” 

With a roll of his eyes, he asked, “What’s the point anyway?” 

“Someone’s gotta look out for Kie and Pope.” 

“I think they’ll be just fine.” 

“JJ,” Lottie said, turning her body towards him, leaning into his space. He could have backed up, pulled away, but he didn’t. Instead, he sighed, meeting her gaze with tense shoulders and an unreadable expression on his moonlit face. “They need you, and you need them. And yeah, school might suck but how else are we gonna get out of here? Hm?” 

“We? You’re already getting out of here. And Kie and Pope, they don’t need me. What we need is you and you’re leaving,” he said, voice bitter. 

Lottie sighed, that heaviness in her chest refusing to leave her space to breathe. “It’s not up to me.” 

JJ’s face softened slightly. “I know,” he said quietly. 

“And, you should know, just because I’m not here doesn’t mean you don’t still have me.” 

His lip twitched, like he wanted to smile. “There’s that bullshit bright side I was lookin’ for.” 

“I guess I can’t help it.” 

That earned her a laugh from JJ, unclenching some of the tightness in her chest. It shifted from a laugh to a yawn he tried to stifle in the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Lottie checked her phone for the time and realized it was nearly three in the morning. DCS would be there bright and early. 

Lottie didn’t think she should be tried; all she’d been doing for days was rotting in her bed. If it hadn’t been for the Pogues, Lottie probably would have wasted away in the Chateau until someone came to collect her. Kie brought her food and forced her to get dressed. Kie did Lottie’s hair and talked with a few breaks just to fill the empty space. Pope and JJ kept her company, too, but they all needed each other for a distraction from their feelings. 

Yet, despite her time spent curled up in her bed, reeling from the loss, she still felt tiredness nag at her bones. 

“Come on,” she said, outstretching her hand. “You’re basically sleepwalking.” 

JJ didn’t disagree, taking her hand and allowing her to lead the way back up to the house. They joined their sleeping friends outside that night, not ready for the sun to rise the following morning. 

➤

As promised, DCS showed up early, but she had been anxiously awake since the sun awoke. 

They sent a different agent, another woman with cropped black hair and a less sympathetic face than their other agent. She looked older and probably had more experience with “troubled” kids like herself. 

“Good morning, Charlotte,” the agent greeted. Lottie forced a tight-lipped smile on her lips in reply. “Ready to go?” 

Lottie’s packed belongings at in bags at her feet, odds and ends she chose to keep, while everything else sat inside the soon-to-be vacant house. 

She looked over her shoulder at her friends, who all tried not to show their emotions but failed. 

“Can I say goodbye first?” 

The agent nodded but told her to be quick, like Lottie leaving her life behind was a mere inconvenience to her.

Lottie stepped over her belongings and ran to her friends, who engulfed her in a tight group hug. She wanted to stay like that forever, tangled in the arms of her friends. They meant to her than words could say. She just hoped they knew that. 

The agent cleared her throat all too soon, forcing Lottie to pull away and wipe her damp cheeks. 

“I guess this is it, huh?” she said sadly. 

“We’ll call you,” Kie said. “Every day, even if it's super annoying.” 

Pope nodded. “And if your foster family won’t let you come visit, we’ll come to you.” 

Lottie smiled as her gaze fell onto JJ, who stood with his arms thrown around the shoulders of Pope and Kie. “We’ll look after each other, promise,” he said, remembering their conversation from last night. 

“Good,” she said. “Try not to do anything too stupid without me, okay?” 

Kie laughed wetly, wiping her own tears. “We’ll try our hardest.” 

With final goodbyes shared, Lottie sucked in a deep breath and collected her things before she headed toward the car. The agent opened the trunk for Lottie to put her things in, but as she dumped her bags into the car, a police car peeled into the driveway, startling her. 

The agent looked confused as well, meaning she wasn’t the reason they were there. 

Shoupe stepped out of the driver’s side, a middle-aged woman exited the passenger’s side, and a gruff-looking man left the backseat, aiding the woman by offering his arm. 

“Good, we caught ya in time,” Shoupe said as he made his way toward Lottie and the agent. 

“What is this?” the DCS agent asked, a hint of annoyance in her tone as she crossed her arms over her chest. “We’re on a tight schedule.” 

Shoupe nodded his head toward the two strangers who accompanied him. “It looks like someone else is interested in looking after Ms. Charlotte here,” he said. 

Surprise washed over Lottie, followed by confusion that prompted a hundred different questions. 

The middle-aged woman smiled at her. She was dressed in clothes too nice for the Cut. An elegant silk blouse and matching headband paired with dress pants and shiny flats. Even the smile she wore was rich, pearly white teeth all perfectly aligned. Whoever she was, Lottie certainly didn’t know her. By a quick glance at her friends, they didn’t know who the woman was either. 

“My dear, look at you,” the woman cooed. “It’s such a shame what happened to your brother. I’m so sorry.” 

Lottie shifted uncomfortably. “Thanks.” The woman’s gaze was intense, boring into Lottie. “Who are you, exactly?” 

With a growing smile and gleaming eyes, the woman held out her hand to Lottie and introduced herself, “My name’s Carla. Carla Limbery.”

END OF SEASON 1

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Quarantine Breach

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

The first the wider universe heard of the plague on Hydraxsis was when traders began returning to their home systems with tales of a massive human fleet hanging in orbit above the world denying all access to the planet’s surface. Transmissions declaring a state of emergency were relayed from the human flagship and stated that the situation was well under control but for the safety of the wider star community no one was allowed to land.

Naturally concerned with this and seeking to offer aid, many civilizations dispatched medical teams and diplomats to open dialogues for relief aid to begin flowing into the system. Yet once again all they were met with were the same transmissions from the flagship that a state of emergency had been declared and travel down to the surface was strictly forbidden.

The stonewalling tactics did not sit well with several of the diplomats, nor did the numerous jamming devices the humans had deployed in orbit above the world to block any communications to and from the surface as well.

When it became known that non-humans had also been trapped on the surface below by grieving families, the governments insisted that the humans open communications and allow relief efforts to be dispatched to the planet.

There was no reply save for the same transmission played again but this time emphasizing the final part with enlarged letters.

DO NOT ATTEMPT TO REACH THE SURFACE; THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING.

Further enraged and now knowing that several of their own citizens were trapped on the beleaguered world alien fleets began appearing to force their passage through the blockade.

They knew humans were stubborn; it was a core aspect of their primal nature that not even evolution could weed out. Yet it boggled the minds of the aliens why the humans would risk an open conflict over one world.

It wasn’t until a Syndicate Hellbrute Dreadnought, leased to one of the grieving species for a considerable sum, appeared alongside the waiting alien armada did they feel ready to force the blockade.

The two fleets poised against each other as countless weapon bay doors rolled open to reveal their lethal contents. Countless targeting vectors were plotted while missile batteries prepared to unleash a torrent of finite death and destruction when suddenly the human fleet turned.

A lone transport shuttle came racing up from the surface.

Without a moment’s hesitation the entire human fleet opened fired on the tiny transport; completely ignoring the alien warships before them who in turned retaliated against the humans.

Terran frigates crumpled like wads of paper under concentrated fire and carriers were gutted from the inside as torment warheads detonated inside their ships through open launch bays, yet the human fleet gave no return fire to the aliens.

The tiny craft darted like a humming bird through the blizzard of weapons fire directed at it by the humans. Too small for the larger weapons to hit the craft wove its way through the terran fleet as it desperately made for the alien armada.

It had almost made it to the Hellbrute leading the alien fleet when a terran cruiser broke formation and rammed the tiny craft. Unable to avoid the massive size of the ship the transport slammed into the side of the cruiser and detonated in a fireball of destruction.

While the aliens pondered why the terran’s would so recklessly risk one of their larger ships in such a manner they were only further surprised why the same cruiser that had rammed the transport ship then detonated their own jump drives causing a small super nova to erupt between the two fleets.

A blinding shockwave of energy shot out and sent both fleets reeling in opposite directions. Colossal vessels were reduced to nothing more than logs in a rapid current as they battered against each other before finally coming to a stop several thousand kilometers away from where they had started.

The aliens began to reorganize their fleets for another battle but the humans merely returned to their blockade of the world. Only the flagship of the terran fleet remained and opened a direct communication with every alien vessel.

No words were spoken by the terran commander as he opened up a video file and played it. A grainy feed appeared to be from a street camera of some kind of a bustling city. Many assumed that it was from Hydraxsis and noted that it was dated several weeks prior when the blockade first was implemented.

The streets were full of bustling humans and aliens of every kind carrying on their day to day business when one human began convulsing rapidly while crossing the street.

Collapsing to the ground they spasmed so hard that fragments of bone could be seen breaking the skin. Worried onlookers either began backing away from the human or approaching them to try and assist them when the true horror began.

Emerging from the convulsing humans flesh came a thick swarm of tiny red insects. They moved like a stream of water and darted to those who had come forward to help the injured man. With barely enough time to let out a scream the swarm engulfed them in a red tide, dragging them to the ground as a general panic broke out.

Within moments more and more insects began pouring out of the new cadaverous tripling their numbers instantly and just as before began rushing those around them.

The feed then cut away to several days later of the same street as countless fires broke out amongst the buildings. The street was littered with battered and broken aircars while the roads themselves were paved with uncountable bones of victims.

A lone figure came sprinting down the street looking back the way they had come screaming. They made it three steps before tripping over what had been a human femur and falling to the ground as a swarm of insects filling the entire street side to side came down upon them like an onrushing river. The camera was ripped from its mounting by the sheer mass of the swarm and the feed went dead.

The commander ended the feed and addressed the gathered armada. Analyzing the tiny red insects their name was “Ambrogidus Flaxmaxus”, or more commonly called “Red Death”.

A highly invasive species that burrows into living hosts laying thousands of eggs that can hatch within ten seconds to thirty years depending on as of yet to be determined conditions. Once hatched, the larva will eat the surrounding flesh before digging their way out in search of a new host and repeating the entire process with a new host.

Because of the unpredictable nature of the hatching process victims can sometimes carry larva eggs for years without ever knowing. This has made quarantining worlds or victims all but impossible as the eggs blend in with the host’s flesh making them almost impossible to detect by scanners. Even the vacuum of space could not deter the insects as their shells were dense enough to resist the void while the insects themselves hibernated. This reason alone was why the terran cruiser detonated itself the moment it touched an infected shuttle. It was the only way to be sure nothing survived.

The humans admitted that they had been trying to spare the rest of the universe from this plague to contain potential chaos that could be unleashed. Several worlds ranging from small colonies to distant outposts had already fallen to the insect and there had been no designated counter agent for terminating the insects in sufficient numbers.

With a heavy heart the human stated that the “relief” fleet enroute was not coming to help the inhabitants below. It was a scientific fleet with the sole purpose of using the world as a testing ground on new chemical agents and weapons to try and kill the insects.

Even if there had been survivors below the humans had made it very clear.

No one was leaving that planet alive.

[sol-consort]

pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.3

You thought of modding the game to get your savefile back on track. A simple trilogy save editor will do the trick. With the click of a button, your hard earned romance should be flagged correctly.

It's a small inconvenience in comparison to the tedious task of starting a fresh new playthrough, even if it meant having to endure these annoying constant bugs a little longer, all the recruitment missions were taken care of, just a couple more loyalty missions and you'd be set to head for the Omega relay in no time.

Unaware of the complete dread that overtook a certian Commander that day, as they woke up to a large sum of 9,999,999 Galactic Credits deposited into their bank account.

... Your eyes may have lingered a little bit while traversing the options menu of the save editor, leading to an impluse alteration or two, not like the ship models were going to pay for themselves.

If Shepard had ever doubted your presence's point of origin, then this action completely ereased any and all theories that you were a part of themselves.

Worse, they were face to the face with the exciting and equally horrifying realisation that your influence could breach from within the confines of their body. Somehow, someway, you managed to interact with the outside world on your own.

... But why the money? Was it a hint? A message? Through all of their walks through the Citadel, you only ever pushed them into practical purchases, armour, and weapon upgrades. Well, only recently did Shepard find out about your newfounded taste for aquatic pets and ship models for some reason.

Where did you get the money from to begin with? It couldn't materialise from thin air. It has to have stemed from somewhere. They need to follow the river to its source. Maybe, somehow, it will lead to them getting closer to you...

And there was only one person on this ship capable of such a task.

Throwing caution to the wind, Shepard marched towards Miranda's office on the lower deck. They knew the second Miranda sniffs wind of their predicament, their unruly contractor will as well, if not the entirety of the Cerberus division. Consequences be damned, Shepard just needed an answer, a speck of evidence of your separate existence. They're aware you're not part of them, but this might prove that you see and witness more of their world than Thane ever claimed is possible for a guardian angel. Since when did angels commit financial fraud?

Maybe Miranda had a history of dealing with madness-ridden people, maybe she has more respect for the chain of command than to openly express displeasure with her commander, or maybe just maybe her poker face is really that good.

Because she wasn't phased all that much following Shepard's longwinded explanation, a condensed summary of this presence hovering around them for the past years, the same so called spirit now having somehow deposited near a billion credits into their bank account without raising any security alarms.

The subtle shift in her demeanour once she saw the evidence with her own eyes wasn't lost on Shepard. Finally, she's considering taking this more seriously than a case of post-surgery psychosis.

She called the bank, she sent private investigators, and she even traced the serial code embedded into every single credit chip... all to no avail.

The more she digged, the more and more alarmed the authorities became. The bank itself never printed the receipt of any deposit this day, yet the transaction flags as legit in their system despite every single information box remaining empty.

It is as if the credits spawned out of oblivion.

Even the most expert money laundering schemes leave some kind of traces behind. Miranda wasn't convinced. This didn't make any sense.

So she asked to speak with the culprit themselves, inquiring Shepard about having a conversation with this so-called spirit they claim is attached to them at the hip. Only to be denied, you haven't even spoken once to Shepard before. How in the world would they secure a conversation between you and Miranda? You were a distant ghost on the best of days and a vague abstract on the worst.

Now came the consequences they so dreaded, Miranda requiring them to submit to a full brain scan and psychological evaluation. Maybe this is some advanced hacker they're dealing with. Maybe one of the scientists slipped a chip into their brain. Hard logic and empirical evidence is how the world functions. She's sorry, Shepard, but she can't accept the supernatural as a good enough answer.

Then how can she explain the credit transfer?

She can't. Which is why it's so important they hurry with these scans and tests. The ploy being played here might be the financial scheme of the century of some clever mastermind attempt to pin government money embezzlement on the already disgraced commander.

That's one ally down the drain.

Thankfully, duty called. The two of them couldn't stay in Miranda's office playing paitent and doctor all day. There were missions to be done, enemies to defeat, near-death instances to experience, clean armour to cover with blood, gore, and mud.

And most importantly, you.

Your presence washed over them the second they stepped in front of the galactic map. A soothing balm cooling off their heated nerves, a veil soft as the petals of pomegranate flowers drapped over their entire being, a guiding hand coaxing them along. No fear of the unkown ever remains with you nearby. Shepard would walk into a reaper's ship if it was your angelic presence tugging them by the strings of their heart along.

You urged them off the platform, and they abided by your whim. Going along as you directed them towards the lower deck, a change of plans as the mission selection process came to a halt.

Instead, heading towards... the main battery room?

"Shepard... need me for something?"

The words formed in Shepard's mind. You wanted to speak to him.

"Yeah." They weren't sure where this is going, "have you got a minute?"

The door to the battery room automatically closed behind them to offer a resemblance of privacy, leaving them and Garrus the only two people in this small room.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about what we talked about—blowing off steam... mmm easing tension..."

The speck of dread from earlier this morning reared its head again, the very same one Shepard buried deep down in order to focus on the more pleasent aspects of your influence, the possibility of actually meeting you.

The turian went on, unaware of the inner turmoil brewing within his commander's mind. "I've never considered cross-species intercourse... and the damn—"

"What are you going on about?" They interrupted. "Garrus, I've told you yesterday, we're just friends."

The confused look on the turian's face said something else entirely.

Is that... was that a sigh they heard just now? Not from Garrus, no. It was you. The sound was faint but it was definitely—

You closed the game, not bothering to save beforehand. Immediately checking the savefile editor, the romance flag checbox is right there, checked out.

This is exhausting, and it's getting late. Spending all night attempting to get this stupid romance route to work would just frustrate you more.

You'll call it a day and head to bed, mess with more mods tomorrow, and if nothing works. Oh well, you can always just watch the romance on YouTube.

-

"You sure you weren't dreaming? All those calibrations are getting to your head, Garrus."

"Shepard, I swear by the spirits, we had a completely different conversation yesterday. I'm not making this up."

They're not sure what to believe anymore.

You wouldn't attempt to force them into something they didn't want, would you?

Would you?

The billion credits sitting in their account tell a different story.

"Maybe I was dreaming, I... I'm really sorry, Shepard. I must be coming off as pushy and desperate."

They should feel betrayed, they should feel violated, cheated even... and yet.

"I'll lay off those midnight snacks and give Dr. Chakwas a visit... It can't be the calibrations' fault, can it?"

Guardian angels can't be malicious.

You're not one.

Thane's words ring in their ears.

"Even if it was, if spending less time near the battery means never experiencing another embarrassing conversation like this in my life ever again, then it's worth it... uh Shepard, you okay? You've been staring at the wall for a while. Is this another human thing?"

You can't have feelings for guardian angels, they'll never return them.

You're not ruled by a defined set of morals. You're capable of sin, of wronging Shepard, of leading them off the cliff, of having your own selfish desires to pressure them into.

You're flawed. You're not a spirit, not an angel, not an omnipotent god, not some eldritch horror.

But only a person.

And a person, they can love and be loved by.

[zahmaddog]

Closure: I. Nightmares of Eriadu

Warnings: SFW Romance, SO MUCH FLUFF, nightmares, family drama/trauma mentions

Characters involved: Crosshair x fem!reader x Omega x Hunter x Phee

Word count: 3743

Authors Note: This is a sequel (read the first installment here) using the same fem!reader character and pre-existing relationship with Crosshair. But you don't need to read the first fanfic. This one might be better anyway. This story satisfies my personal needs for closure after The Bad Batch animated series ended. I don't want to give anything away, but this resolves my need for closure around Tech, Hunter's need of an arc, and more character building for Crosshair.

I've been writing it for the past several weeks and am multiple chapters ahead. I just wanted to begin posting it. :) I have some moody watercolors painted for some chapters too. I'll maybe retrofit some art too. I'll probably post it separate so nobody misses it. :) Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list. I mainly wrote this for my own entertainment, but who doesn't love it when others are around.<3 I hope you enjoy.

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

Omega threw the ship’s thruster forward and jumped into hyperspace, narrowly escaping the blaster fire of a few short-range fighters.

“Well, that was fun,” she gasped in slight laughter.

Phee smiled and kicked back into her chair, “Fun indeed.”

Omega spun around in her chair to find you still lying on your back in the middle of the ship. You were exhausted and hadn’t even made it to the bunks before collapsing onto the floor. 

“Are you okay?” She called over to you. 

You lifted your head enough to make eye contact, smiled a little, and lifted your arm enough to signal a “thumbs-up” sign. 

She flashes her white teeth at you and returns a thumbs-up enthusiastically. Her hair had grown long over the years and swept across her face. She kept it tied up with a bright red tie, which was suspected to match Hunter’s bandana on purpose. Physically, Omega looked more and more like Hunter over the years, but had Wrecker’s enthusiasm for abrupt adventure, Echo’s drive for serving others, Crosshair’s tactical abilities, and Tech’s piloting skills and calculating mind.

Omega turned back to the ship’s pilot console and felt Phee’s eyes study her. 

“What is it?” Omega pleasantly inquires.

“You fly like Tech,” Phee shrugs.

“Well, he did teach me,” Omega banters back. 

“I know, but… There are a lot of little moments where I see him in you,” Phee continues. 

“Well, we do share the same genetic material—,” Omega starts.

“See, that’s something Tech would have said.”

Omega smiles back, “I wish he could see me fly now.”

“You have become an exceptional pilot,” Phee nods. “He would have been so proud of you.”

Listening in on their conversation, you smile as you remember young Omega’s piloting skills compared to her current set of skills. She was fast, smooth, calculated, and innovative. Deciding you had enough rest, you stood up in Phee’s ship and made your way to the front. 

“Well, look who decided to be with the living!” Phee prods at you.

You sit down and lean back into the chair behind Omega’s seat.

“Next time you two invite me for a ‘girl’s night out,’ you better tell me it’s actually a four day treasure hunt, nine star systems over, with limited rations and pre-existing enemies,” you relay.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Phee chuckles. Omega laughs with her. 

“You two are ridiculous,” you grunt as you pull your hat over your eyes. You hear Phee chuckle to herself, then turn from facing you to the lights of hyperspace.

“You and Crosshair were made for each other,” Phee comments after a small pause in conversation.

“You take that back,” you monotone sarcastically without moving from under your hat, but you felt your lips creep into a small smile at the thought of Crosshair.

“It must be nice,” she suggests happily and threads her fingers around the back of her neck and leans back placing her feet on the dashboard.

You stay silent as you knew Phee still had lingering feelings for the long-lost brother of Clone Force 99: Tech. From what you had heard between Omega, Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair, Phee was a great partner. You both equally wished you had known Tech and that you could tell him that he was not easily forgotten. 

“We’re coming up on Pabu,” Omega broke the silence as the ship was gently thrown out of hyperspace. 

Entering the atmosphere and pushing through the clouds, you lift the brim of your hat to spy the small island in the distance. You sigh a breath of relief as the island grows larger in view.

The spaceport had its usual morning-Pabu hustle with imported goods flying in and individuals leaving Pabu for jobs, vacation, and more. Phee’s ship touches down and the door unseals. Omega picks up her bag and dashes down the stairs in excitement to tell Hunter and Liana about the adventure away and the treasures found.

Phee continues to sit back in the chair lost in thought and unmoved. You rise from your chair and slink into Omega’s piloting seat.

“You okay?” You asked.

“I’ll be okay,” Phee sighed. “There are some treasures in life that you lose, but never forget.”

You knew her mind was still stuck on Tech. She gazed into the oceans of Pabu from the spaceport and let her eyes pool with tears.

“Listen, I’m going to step out of my bounds for a moment, but,” you breathe in deeply and close your eyes for a moment, “I know my way around Eriadu. I don’t think Hunter ever returned to search for Tech.”

“His remains won’t do anyone any good,” Phee looks over to you.

“I know,” you backpedaled. “But if he were– alive,”

“He never contacted us. He couldn’t be alive,” Phee interrupts. You could feel her frustration, so you held your silence.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize for bringing up the topic. 

Phee exhales and wipes her eyes. “I don’t know what’s worse, if he’s alive and didn’t want to contact us, or if he’s gone for good.”

You stood and placed your hand on her shoulder to offer support and to also stage your conversational exit. “Phee,” you began, “You need answers for closure. And you’re good at finding answers. It’s one thing to be afraid of what you’ll find… But if there’s one person to discover what happened, it’s you.”

“I know,” she taps your hand with hers and began to stand. 

“Why didn’t Hunter go back to look for him?” Phee asks.

You shrug, “He’s a soldier; they move on differently than you and I. And you and Hunter are probably right: Tech would have found a way to make contact.”

Phee nods with sadness in her eyes.

You and Phee exit the ship together and walk down the stairs to meet Clone Force 99.

Your pace quickened as Crosshair comes into view. His unshaven face, silver bedhead, and black attire led you to chuckle a little under your breath.

“Well, that was longer than a single rotation,” Crosshair jabs as you greet him with an embrace.

“I should have known better with the present company,” you roll your eyes a little remembering how Omega and Phee talked you into the trip.

“Mmhmm,” Crosshair grunts and as he holds you tighter before softly releasing you. 

“What did you do while I was gone?” You ask.

“I stayed in bed and shot holes in the ceiling,” he deadpans.

You could hear Hunter sigh at Crosshair’s comment. Looking over, you see him bury his head in his hands a little and rub his eyes. You turn back to Crosshair, smile, then stand on your toes to kiss his narrow lips. His hand slides up your back to cradle your head as he kisses you back.

“I missed you,” you smile. 

“And someone’s going to fix those holes in the roof,” Hunter invites himself into your conversation and takes a step towards you and Crosshair. He was so serious. 

Crosshair just stares at him; hardly blinking. He, too, was overly serious. He slides his hand to your back again and you lay your ear against his chest to look at Hunter.

“I’ll fix the roof,” you offer.

“No.” Crosshair rejects your offer and just stares at Hunter.

“I am not going to fix the roof, Crosshair,” Hunter continues to glare. “Not again.”

“Your relationship is so confusing,” you sigh and step back from Crosshair. You wink at him, “I’ll see you at the house, okay?”

Crosshair and Hunter continue to stare each other down.

“… Okay?” You repeat.

“Fine,” Crosshair growls without taking his eyes off Hunter.

“What’s their problem?” Omega asks you.

“I’m not sure,” you scan the crowd, “Where’s Wrecker? Maybe he didn’t feed them while we were gone.”

Omega laughs at your joke, “That’s probably it.”

—----

Dropping your bag into Crosshair’s room, you look up at the ceiling. He shot more than just holes. At some point, the blaster holes turned into bigger holes and the entire roof was practically missing. You felt Crosshair approach behind you. 

“So that’s what four rotations of shooting the ceiling will get you?” You chuckle.

‘Uh-huh,” he looks up at his handy work. 

You narrow your eyebrows a little bit as you inspect the ceiling further.

“Problem?” Crosshair asks.

“I don’t want to be that girlfriend, but—,” you stop yourself as you never asked much of Crosshair. You wanted him to find a more productive hobby, but after all he’s been through, he did deserve to blow off some steam. It was just a ceiling anyway.

“What?” He prods.

“Why’d you stop at the ceiling?” you grin.

“I learned my lesson the last time I tried to shoot a live round into Wrecker’s bunk,” he says as he tosses himself into the bed.

“Where is Wrecker?” You ask.

“Off-world with Shep. Some kind of supply run,” Crosshair shrugs.

“What have you and Hunter been eating then?” You chuckle.

“Oh, you know… Soldier food,” he points to the end of his bed to the pile of ration bar wrappers. You pick up one of the wrappers and inspect it.

“Cross, these expired over three years ago,” you mutter.

“That would explain things,” Crosshair exhales.

“Are you okay?” You sit down at the end of the bed.

“Clearly,” he enthuses. The ceiling gave an audible crack and pieces fell onto Crosshair’s head and shoulders; his expression unchanging. You didn’t buy his answer, but knowing him, he wouldn’t talk much more, especially under pressure. You stood enough just to shuffle to his end of the bed and relax against the headboard, sitting on pieces from the ceiling. You took his hand and brought it to your lips.

“How was your trip with Phee and Omega?” Crosshair asks to change the subject.

“Confusing. It was nice of them to include me, but I don’t want to get into trouble like I used to,” you shrug. “They didn’t exactly tell me what was going on and when we arrived, we were already in a few gun fights with other pirates.”

“Did they get what they were after?” Crosshair narrows his eyes.

“I think so. They picked up a package, we fought over it, lost Phee’s ship, got it back, then flew home,” you close your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder. “I’m exhausted.”

“Hmm,” he faintly grunts in response. “I didn’t think you’d get tired of pirating missions.”

“And I didn’t think I’d come home to you shooting holes in the ceiling,” you reply, staring up into the gaping holes. You earned a soft smile from him as he peers up to inspect his work once more.

“True,” he chuckles. 

You and Crosshair stayed in bed watching the stars appear as the sun began to set, painting the sky pink and orange. Letting your hand trace up his hand, arm, chest, and to his face, you felt his scratchy, unshaven face. 

“Sorry, I haven’t shaved,” he apologizes and slips a toothpick between his lips.

“It’s not a bad look,” you comment. 

His silver hair, straight and unkempt, had grown a bit past a typical soldier’s cut everywhere but the scar on the right side of his skull. The sides and back were tapered and faded into the length, framing his jaw. Around his neck he wore a thin chain with engraved plates hanging just above his chest. 

He suddenly sighs sharply. 

“I —,” he starts. You don’t prod at him to continue, but instead start to run your fingers through his hair. “Stop,” he takes his hand to stop yours and he sits up taller, but still doesn’t look at you. 

“Sorry,” you apologize. He takes your hand and holds it in his lap. The silence washes over the moment.

“What’s wrong?” You re-engage with him.

“It’s nothing,” he shakes his head a little and looks back up into the stars. You knew something was up with him due to his lack of un-soldier-like appearance and the state of his ceiling, but now you felt concern trickle into your heart.

“Is it nothing?” You ask.

“I can’t sleep when you’re not here,” he admits through a wince.

“You’re not weak for that,” you assure him.

He sighs again and turns towards you. You pull on his shoulder, motioning him to lay down. He rests his head on your arm and the pillow beneath then closes his eyes. 

“The nightmares are back?” You whisper.

“They never left,” he sighs quietly. 

________

Crosshair had fallen asleep quickly. You took the toothpick from his lips and flicked it to the floor. Your eyes grew heavy too as the night sky had settled in. 

________

Eriadu’s summers were warm, temperate, and pleasant. The famous Tarkin compound was familiar as you had spent holidays there with your immediate and distant family. Your mother, Governor Tarkin’s sister, had married outside of the family to a lowly Imperial loyalist. While she was left out intentionally from her parent’s fortune, she was still included in familial gatherings. 

“Are you coming?” You looked up to see your older brother, Crix. His hand extended to you as you realized you may have fallen to the ground. Your clothes, hands, and knees were dirty. Looking into his eyes, you see they’re full of worry. You nod your head and reach for his hand. His hand feels cold. Inspecting it, you turn his hand over in your palm. Looking back up to his face, he vanishes.

“Crix?” You look around, but he’s gone. The silence of the forest overwhelms you as you sense something is wrong. The feeling of doom pools into your stomach, weighing you down. Each step further into the forest weighs heavier and heavier. The sky grows dark and the ground is black. The subtle asphyxiation quells your movement; you fall to your knees.

An old, brittle hand reaches out and grabs your shoulder. It’s nails, cut into your skin. You let out a scream, but no sound left your lips.

You wake, sitting up quickly as your heart races. You breathe in deeply like you hadn’t in some time. When was the last time I dreamt of Eriadu? You ask yourself. Crosshair snores and shuffles slightly in the bed. Your nightmare didn’t bother him in the slightest. You sigh a breath of relief. He was usually such a light sleeper.

The floor felt cold beneath your toes as you slipped out of the bed. The fresh air was a nice touch; maybe you wouldn’t fix the roof after all. Or at least not right away. You tip-toed to the back patio to watch the ocean waves curl into the shoreline. Opening the patio door, you were surprised to find Phee leaned against the railing looking out into the sky.

“Couldn’t sleep?” She asks you without turning.

“Not really,” you responded. You sit down into the chair and put your feet up on the railing. 

“Nightmares?” She asks kindly.

“Of home, I guess,” you shrug. 

“Where’s home?” Phee sits down into the chair next to you.

“Here,” you realize out loud, “But no, I dreamt of a place my family would visit for holidays when I was a child,” you admit.

“And where’s that?” She continued to pull your teeth.

You bit your lip and shifted your jaw to the side, remembering your last conversation with her about Eriadu. You supposed that was why Eriadu was fresh on your mind.

“Eriadu,” you sigh. 

Phee’s eyebrow raises in response, “Oh.”

“I dreamt my brother Crix was in the forest there. I reached out to him, but he disappeared. I haven’t seen him in a few years. But he was the closest brother I had,” you explain. 

“Does he still live on Eriadu?” Phee asks.

“No,” you lament. “He hated it there; more than I did.” You chuckle a little remembering old conversations and shared expressions at the dinner table with your brother. 

“Where is he now?” Phee continues to lay on the questions.

“I don’t know,” you look to exchange your sorrowful expression. “He started chasing spice dreams to escape reality and then I defected from the Empire and my family; I lost track of him a bit after that.”

“Well, I like to believe that all dreams have meaning,” Phee marveled upwards to the sky again.

“You would,” you nod.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said, sis,” Phee hesitated. “Since it’s fresh on your mind, would you want to come to Eriadu with me?”

Your heart jumped a little in your chest at the thought of seriously returning. It had been a few years since your last run in with your uncle, Governor Tarkin, but the Empire didn’t seem to care about your existence anymore. Surely someone would recognize you there. But, perhaps your soul had some unfinished business to attend to as you reflected on your dream once more.

“I’ll think about it,” you assure.

A small ship took off from the cave and accelerated into the atmosphere with a soft boom. 

“Was that Omega?” You asked Phee.

Phee nodded, “I figured she’d sneak off here soon.”

“She’s more of a soldier than Hunter wants to admit, isn’t she?” You sigh.

Phee stands and leans against the railing once again. She pulls her binoculars to study the entrance of the cave. “Batcher and Hunter saw her off.” “This house will turn into a mess without her here,” you chuckle. “Mmhmm,” Phee agreed, continuing to watch Hunter and Batcher walk home.

“Well, I’m going to turn in,” you announce as you stand from your chair.

“Think about what I said,” Phee turns to you. 

You give her a silent nod of acknowledgement and head back inside. Walking down the hallway, you pause just outside of Omega’s room. Of course she’d slip out while Wrecker was off-world, you think to yourself. 

Arriving at Crosshair’s door, you slowly enter the room. Feeling relief that he’s still asleep, you slide into the bed with him quietly. 

__________________________

The morning sun warmed Crosshair’s room quickly without the roof to shield. Moving your hands to block out the sun, you squinted around the room to find yourself alone. You shift and swing your legs off the bed to sit upright. You hear the door open.

“I decided I’ll fix the roof,” Crosshair mutters as he walks into the room slowly with his and your morning cups in hand. He was clean shaven again, but continued to leave his hair longer. 

“Did you sleep well?” You smile.

“Yes,” he sits down on the bed next to you and hands you your cup. “Did you?” He asks in return.

“Honestly, no. I got up a few hours into the night and–” You pause.

“I know Omega left,” Crosshair mutters.

“I’m sorry she didn’t say goodbye,” you mention.

“She did, in her own way,” Crosshair reaches into his pocket and pulls out his small money sac that usually had a few credits in it. “It’s empty,” he sighs. “She left a note saying she owes me.”

“You wouldn’t have let her go, would you have?” You ask.

Crosshair sighs, “She’s a better shot than I am these days. She’ll be fine. I’m surprised she didn’t wait until I was also off-world to sneak off.” Crosshair softly smiles as he puts his credit bag away. “But I suppose confrontation isn’t a strong suit of mine either.”

You nod and think back on Phee’s conversation last night. Your vanishing smile catches Crosshair’s attention.

“What else happened last night?” Crosshair furrows his eyebrows together.

“Phee asked me to go to Eriadu with her,” you say into your mug.

“Eriadu?” Crosshair lifts an eyebrow and leans forward into your space. “Why Eriadu?” 

“Well, my family. Some unanswered questions. And—” you pause, not sure how to explain your intentions.

“What?” Crosshair presses.

“Tech,” you lightly shrug and take a long drink from the mug. “She wants to…”

Crosshair moved your mug down from your lips. “What?” He insists.

“Phee is curious if Tech’s remains are there… Or if Tech is… There,” you manage to say hesitantly. 

Crosshair stays silent and drinks his caf alongside you. He turns to face the door and crosses his arms. 

“If he were alive, Tech would have sent us a message,” Crosshair informs you.

“I know,” you nod. “It doesn’t make sense that he’d be alive. I don’t know what we’ll find, but Phee needs closure.” 

Crosshair sighs and stares into his black, undoctored caf, “We probably all do.” 

You and Crosshair continue to sip in silence for a few minutes. You could feel him mull his thoughts over. Even with you, he wasn’t the best talker, but you knew his internal dialog plagued him.

“Will you go with her?” Crosshair breaks the silence and studies your eyes.

“I don’t know,” you slowly elaborate, “It’s been years since I’ve been there, but I’d still be recognized. The only advantage I bring is that I know the planet well.”

“Hmm,” Crosshair takes another sip.

“Would you come with me?” You ask.

Crosshair sharply exhales and rolls his eyes, “You know how I just love unplanned adventures with pirates.”

“So you will?” You squint your eyes at him.

“I can hardly wait,” he sarcastically agrees and finishes his morning drink.

Chapter II: Going Home

++++++++++++++++++++++ taglist ++++++++ @heidnspeak @cloneflo99 @megmegalodondon @tentakelspektakel

[queenvidal]

I'm Sorry

Chapter 1:

Chapter Summary: The last thing Shepard wanted was to have her ex-boyfriend aboard, but little did she knew how much she'd regret what she's said.

Wordcount: 2855

Chapter Index: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2/ Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 - COMING SOON!

Masterlist

With quick steps, Shepard strides toward the cockpit. Joker’s announcement about the jump through the mass relay sparked her excitement, she wouldn’t miss this for anything. She passes Pressly with a big smile on her lips.

Suddenly she stops dead in her tracks and her smile vanishes. A tall figure is standing behind the pilot seat.

Suppressing a groan, Shepard rolls her eyes and steps into position beside Joker, completely ignoring the turian standing nearby.  Nihlus glances at her for a moment before returning his attention back on the screens in front of the pilot.

“Hey, Shep,” Joker greets with a grin, knowing she wouldn’t miss the jump. But his grin also is short lived and soon disappears. The turian's looming presence unsettles him. Joker hates being watched and the turian breathing down his neck is making him nervous.  “Coming for the show?” he asks, his voice a little strained.

Shepard chuckles. “Always.”

Joker adjusts his cap and announces, “Alright, fasten your seatbelts, ladies and gentlemen. We’re going through.” His fingers fly over the console as the Normandy accelerates toward the mass relay. The sheer scale of the relays never fails to impress Shepard, who watches intently as Joker counts down. The cockpit bathes in brilliant blue light as the Normandy launches into the relay’s energy field.

Suddenly the blue sigts into a stunning sea of millions of stars flashes before them, painting the cockpit in a tranquil glow. Shepard’s lips twitch into a small smile as awe briefly replaces her earlier irritation. The sight is simply beautiful.

Moments later, the Normandy slows down, the stars of their destination stretching out before them. Joker’s hands fly over the controls as he runs post-jump diagnostics. “Thrusters check, navigation check. Internal emissions sink engaged. All systems online. Drift just under 1500k.”

Nihlus nods approvingly. “1500 is good, your captain will be pleased.” He turns around to take his leave, glancing at Shepard for one final time before exiting the cockpit. 

Joker quickly looks over his shoulder, waiting until the turian is out of earshot. “I hate this guy.” Shepard smirks, holding back laughter at Joker’s visible frustration. Kaidan, who is sitting at the co-pilot console, is shaking his head. “Joker, come one. He just gave you a compliment.”

“Compliment my ass.” The pilot girths through his teeth, “I just jumped us halfway across the whole galaxy and hit a target the size of a pinhead. That’s not good, that's incredible.” While grumbling some curses, Joker's focus returns to his displays. “Besides Spectres are trouble. I don't like having him around.” Neither do I, Shepard thinks to herself. Nihlus belongs on the Citadel, not Andersons ship. Kaidan argues, “The council helped fund this project. They have a right to send someone to keep an eye on their investment. You’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Joker sighs as he enters in new codes. “That's the official story. But only an idiot believes the official story, right, Shep?”

The Commander finally relaxes her posture, letting out a deep sigh. "Honestly? The Council could have sent anyone to supervise the operation, yet they not only sent a Spectre, but him out of all people. They are not truly concerned about the Normandy. The sooner he’s off my ship the better.”

Joker looks at her with a shit-eating grin, “Well, technically it’s Captain Anderson's ship.”

“And technically-” Shepard whispers as she pushes Joker's cap down, right into his face. “You know what I meant.”

“Hey, that's mean!” He complains. He takes his cap off to readjust it properly. “Since when are you sensitive? Pissed you two can't share your bunks anymore?”

Shepard’s glare could set fire to steel. “Don’t test my tamper, Mr. Moreau.” As much as she loves Joker, sometimes he doesn’t know when he’s going too far.

Irritated by Shepards sudden bad mood, Kaidan turns his chair to look at the Commander. “Okay, I feel like I’m missing something. What’s going on?” Joker just huffs a laugh. “Yeah sure, Aleko. As if you don’t know about it.”

“About what?” He asks, raising his brows in question.

Joker stays quiet, leaving Shepard to decide whether she wants to tell Kaidan or not. After a moment of consideration, Shepard explains what’s been going on. “You’ll probably learn it from the others anyway, so I might as well tell you. Kryik and I were involved… romantically.”

Kaidan’s jaw drops to the ground. “What?”

“Yep.” She sighs. “Have been just until a few months ago actually.”

“Well, given your mood, I guess it didn’t end well?” Kaiden asks carefully.

“That’s one way to put it.” Shepard crosses her arms in front of her chest. “We’ve been dating for some time and then things moved quite quickly. Everything was peachy until, from one day to another, he changed. Suddenly he treated me like a stranger and when I confronted him about it, he told me that it was all a big mistake, that turians and humans shouldn’t be together and that he regrets it.”

Kaidan looks at her with wide blown eyes, stunned into silence.

Shepard casts him a sad smile. “That’s exactly the look I had, when he told me all of this.” A ping on her omni tool announces a new message. “For fuck sake.”

“Speaking of the devil, huh?” Joker asks.

“Yup.” Shepard deletes Nihlus message without even bothering to read it. “It’s bad enough to see him strolling through the ship the whole day, can’t he just have the decency to not annoy me even further?”

Suddenly Anderson's voice sounds over the speakers. “Commander Shapard, I need to speak to you in my cabin.”

“Uh!” Joker smiles brightly at her. “Someone’s in trouble.”

Shepard just rolls her eyes, tempted to mess with his cap again. “Bite me, Jeff.”

Quickly the Commander makes her way to the elevator. Once inside, she hits the button for the mess hall a bit harder than necessary. She lets out an irritated sigh before rubbing her eyes. Whatever Nihlus is actually here for, she’s just hoping it will be done as soon as possible. 

Eventually the elevator doors open again, releasing her. Shepard goes straight for the Captain's cabin. She knocks on the door before it wooshes open. “How can I be of service?” She asks, while entering.

Captain Anderson is sitting at his desk. He turns around to face her. “Lynette.” is all he says in greeting. He signs for Shepard to sit on the seat across from him. “I have to talk to you.”

“Of course.” She says as she’s taking a seat, crossing her legs.

The captain sighs deeply. He is visibly uncomfortable. “Lynette, I’ll be blunt, this conversation isn’t easy for me and I doubt it will be for you either.”

Shepard tilts her head slightly, her brow furrowing.

Anderson takes a deep breath. “You’re familiar with Alliance regulations about fraternization aboard a ship, I assume?”

Shepard groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Oh, Anderson, please don’t.”

“I have to,” Anderson says, his tone almost contrite. “Look, I’m not here to pry into your personal life. But with Nihlus aboard, I need your assurance that… whatever happened between you two won’t interfere with missions or ship operations.”

“Of course not, Anderson.” Shepard affirms. She might hate Nihlus guts but she won’t act on her ill feelings, she’s too professional for anything else. “I promise.”

Anderson nods slightly in approval. “Good to hear.”

“Allow me a question, sir?” Shepard crosses her arms casually. “What’s the actual reason for a Spectre to be here?”

Anderson falls back into his chair. “That’s classified.”

“Oh?” Lynette’s eyebrows raise, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “So there is another reason?”

The Captain narrows his eyes for a moment as he realizes his slip. “That’s something we will discuss tomorrow, Shepard. That’s all I can tell you at the moment.”

“Very well.” She says. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

Anderson hesitates again, his voice softening. “Actually, yes. It might not be my place to ask, but… have you and Nihlus ever talked about what happened? Afterward, I mean.”

“Nope.” Shepard shakes her head.“ After he blew on me, I packed my things and left. Haven't seen or heard from him ever since and as far as I'm concerned, I'd like to keep it that way.”

Certainly she knows the space on the ship is limited and therefore the chance of running into him is pretty high but that doesn't mean she can't  at least try to avoid him.

Anderson just nods silently. “Just do me the favor and keep it low, okay? This is not meant to anger you.”

“Yeah, sure.” She whispers to herself when she stands up. “Sir.” She salutes casually at her Captain before leaving his cabin again.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

A new cycle has started on the Normandy. Breakfast has started to be giving out in the mess, which is slowly starting to get crowded. Soldiers shuffle through the line, grabbing trays of rations, some exchanging groggy greetings while others simply nurse their coffee in silence.

Kaidan sits at a corner table, chatting with Doctor Chakwas. Anticipating the morning rush, he’s already picked up an extra tray for their Commander, placing it at the empty seat beside him. He hopes the small gesture will help lift her mood, which has been notably sour since Nihlus arrived.

The tables conversation drifts between topics, focusing on Kaidan’s latest episode of headaches, when Shepard finally appears. “Morning, Commander!” Kaidan calls, spotting Shepard as she strides into the mess.

Mid-yawn, Shepard perks up slightly at the sound of his voice. Her eyes dart to the tray waiting for her, and she gives him a tired but genuine smile. “Kaidan, you’re too good to me,” she says with a tired smile, sliding into the seat.

“I live to serve,” he replies, the corners of his mouth quirking into a small grin.

“Good morning, Commander.” Doctor Chakwas her kindly.  “Slept well?”

“Well enough,” Shepard replies, though she’s already diving into her breakfast.

The conversation between Kaidan and Chakwas resumes with Shepard not contributing much, her focus is entirely on her meal. The calm is short-lived though, as a familiar voice breaks through the low hum of the mess. 

“Lynette, do you have a minute?”

Shepard freezes mid-bite, suppressing a groan. It’s far too early to deal with him. Without looking up, she responds in a clipped tone, “Good morning, Spectre. The correct form of address is Commander Shepard, and no, I don’t.”

In an instant the air is becoming tense. The surrounding tables go quiet, soldiers suddenly finding reasons to focus on their food or shuffle away. Kaidan shifts uncomfortably in his seat and Chakwas raises an eyebrow but says nothing. Both share a quick uncomfortable glance. Nihlus pauses, clearly weighing his options. Finally, the turian straightens. “Commander,” he says simply, before turning on his heel and walking away toward the elevator.

Once he’s gone, Chakwas sighs as she looks at Shepard. Her voice carries a hint of disapproval. “Was that really necessary?”

“No,” Shepard admits, spearing a piece of food. “But a fork to his eyes might be.”

“Shepard!” Chakwas scolds, her eyes wide blown. “You’re an adult woman, for heaven’s sake.”

“I’m kidding, Karin." Lynette replies, raising her hands in mock surrender. “Probably.”

Before Chakwas can retort, Joker’s voice crackles over the speakers. “Commander Shepard, you’re needed in the comm room.”

Shepard exhales heavily, dropping her fork onto the tray with a clatter. “Of course I am.”

Quickly she rises to her feet. While gesturing to the tray, she’s giving Kidan a nod. “Thanks for grabbing this, Alenko.”

“Anytime,” he smiles, watching her retreat toward the elevator.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

It was late in the morning, almost midday, when the Commander returned from the meeting she had with Anderson and Nihlus. Seeing Joker was the first thing she did. As annoying as the Pilot can be at times, he is still one of Shepards closest friends. He was the first and only one she broke the news to. 

“Spectre, I can't believe it.” She says while looking at the stars, swaying gently from side to side in the chair, her tone softening. “I really can’t believe it.”

It’s an honor, that’s for sure. Becoming the first human Spectre is nothing Lynette could have ever imagined would happen in her career. She’ll definitely have to give her mother a call later.

“Yeah, about time, huh?” Joker asks, his voice full of sarcasm. “About time the Council added humans to their puppet show. You know, gotta make sure every species gets tangled in their strings” The Commander frowns at him. “Sorry, Shep. I really don’t mean to shit on your accomplishments. It's just…”

“You’re not fond of the council. I know.” She smiles lightly.

“One way to put it. My point is I don’t like you being dragged into their political bullshit. I mean, see what they did. They could have sent about any Spectre to test you, yet they’ve sent King Asshole.”

“Yeah, I know.” The woman agrees. “Let’s put her under a real stress test. Why don’t we force her and her racist ex into a small tin can of a ship for a week?”

That elicits a laugh from the Pilot. "Exactly. Politicians, man. Bunch of jerks in fancy robes.”

Lynette snickers in return, shaking her head. She’s not too fond of politicians either. After stretching her arms, she leans back into the co-pilot seat more comfortably, hr eyes fixated on the stars outside the window. The tension in her shoulders begins to ease, but the sound of approaching footsteps in the corridor snaps her out of it.

“Commander Shepard, I need to talk to you.” Nihlus comes to stand right at the entrance of the cockpit.

Shepard glances at him quickly, before replying. “I'm busy.”

But Nihlus is not having her defiance right now. “That is not a request.”

Joker looks at the both of them. Sensing trouble, he quickly decides to remove himself from this situation. Carefully he stands up from his beloved seat.  “Know what, I was just about to grab some coffee in the mess. My cockpit is all yours.”

Lynette glares at him for abandoning her but Joker just gives her a knowing, apologetic smile before disappearing down the corridor.

Once Joker is out of earshot, Lynette stands up as well. “Alright, what do you want?”

Nihlus stands tall, his hands clasped behind his back, the picture of turian discipline but the subtle flare of his mandibles betrays him. “Shepard, believe it or not, this situation is just as unpleasant for me as it is for you.”

“Oh, ‘s that so?” Her voice is full of sarcasm as she's leaning against her seat.

Nihlus marbles flare again. His eyes leave her for a second, before he calmly states, “This is temporary. Just until the mission is complete. Once it’s done, I’ll file my report, inform the Council and take my leave.

Deciding to reduce the hostility, Shepard reflexes her arms again. “Well, sounds good.”

After a long and silent moment, the turian straightens up. “Shepard, despite what happened between us, I need you to stay focused once we’re planetside.” 

Lynette can’t help but to narrow her eyes at him. “What?”

“Your ill manners towards me on board the ship are one thing but we can’t have your feelings interfere with the mission.” Nihlus’ voices lacks any emotion,“ We have to-”

“Stop.” Shepard cuts him off, visibly getting angry. “Are you really doubting me and my capability to keep my emotions in check?” 

“I am just giving you well ment advice, Commander.” Nihlus states dryly. “This mission and the opportunity for you is way too important to be risk by emotional breakdowns.”

That’s it. Now it’s getting insulting. “Don't you fucking dare to tell me how I should feel and act.” Shepard hisses through gritted teeth. “You're not in the position!”

Nihlus’s voice drops, cold and clipped. “You think this is easy for me? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be caught between your feelings and your duty?”

She takes a step closer, her voice icy cold, “Don’t you dare play the victim, Kryik.”

Nihlus just shakes his head lightly, “Lynette, look-”

“Don't you Lynette me!” Shepherd's voice rises in volume, gaining attention from nearby standing officers. 

“Spirits, woman.” Nihlus exhales, visibly frustrated. “I know I’ve hurt you,” he says, his tone gentler now, “I know I’ve hurt you, I know you’re still angry and by the stars, you have every right to. I am sorry-”

The speakers on the bridge light up. Captain Anderson orders the ship to prepare for entering the planet's orbit and for the ground team to gear up.

Following the command, Shepard pushes past the turian to get away. Her voice is dripping with venom, when she glares at him one final time,  “For all I care, Nihlus, you can just drop fucking dead.”

Chapter Index: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2/ Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 - COMING SOON

[stuffing-seattle]

Quantum Kinks: Debauchery in Deep Space

5…

Harry closed his eyes. His whole life had been leading to this moment.

4…

He took a deep breath to steady his blood pressure. Years of education, training, and sleepless nights were all coming to fruition.

3…

He briefly let his mind wander to what he might see out in that vast sea called space? New life forms? Super structures? Beings so advanced he would call them gods?

2…

He shook the thoughts away. He knew better. A scientist never formed a hypothesis on supposition.

1…

He opened his eyes. This was it.

Liftoff!

Harry felt his body rocket down to meet the seat, every millimeter of air between him and his chair evaporated in an instant as he was hurled into space. The launch was simultaneously fast and eternal. It took only a few minutes before he felt the weightlessness of space take him, but the anxiety of looking over dials and staying vigilant for any failing systems stretched the time into feeling like hours.

The radio in his helmet crackled to life. “Congratulations, Perky. You’re space side. All systems are stable. You have permission to sleep.” Harry obeyed and turned the appropriate knobs and dials to get his settings right for a nice long cryo-sleep. Before he flipped the switch to initiate the freezing process, he paused and began to meditate, clearing his mind. The science guys had told him to get as close to a full body shut down as possible before entering cryo-stasis. Any of his bodily processes would freeze in place, down to the electrify in his brain that was fired when thinking. They said it could have some unpleasant consequences.

Ready, with a blank mind, Harry flipped the final switch and prepared for a long snooze. As the intense chill flash froze his body, an image suddenly flashed into his mind: It was of a skinny girl, just on the cusp of womanhood she sat atop him, nude and giving him mischievous and lustful look. Her breasts were small and firm, and her belly was flat and toned. Then suddenly a new image: The same person, still nude but facing away from him. Her ass was full, round and heart shaped. Her back was still slender, but she suddenly turned around revealing a Gracie belly which she cradled protectively in her arms. Her breast had changed too, and were suddenly at least twice if not three times as large as they had just been. The images came so fast and in such great clarity, that Harry felt his heart rate increase involuntarily, and blood surged to his member before he could stop it. And that would be how Harry remained for the rest of his lonely journey in space: Stiff and unbending as ice.

. . .

Consciousness returned to Harry in a jolt. Sirens blared and the red lights of emergency signals flooded his pod. He took quick stock of himself to check for injury, checking in milliseconds for any bodily irregularities. No pain, no wounds it seemed, but his dick was still hard as diamonds. That could be ignored for now. He had to investigate the source of the emergency his ship was relaying.

Only, to Harry’s utter shock, when he depressurized his cryopod, it opened into the cool summer night air, instead of a ship like it should have. Harry’s cryopod was a few feet underground somehow, so he clamored to the top of the pod, and found it was half submerged in a crater. Judging by the debris around the area, it seemed his ship had crashed while he was asleep. Harry wanted to stew in the abject horror of that notion, but his training overrode his panic.

1. Immediate dangers

Harry whipped his head around in a full circle. No predators, or indigenous life. Trees surrounded his landing zone, at least those that had not been flattened by his landing. Temperature was temperate, he was not in danger of overheating or freezing. Clear weather. No tornados or storms. A few small fires littered the crash site, but none were near him and none were in danger of catching the surrounding brush. Perfect he had time to plan.

2. Gather data

He could only make and informed decision with how to proceed if he had enough data to go on. Just as he was about to retreat back to his pod to collect diagnostics on his crash, he caught movement in the corner of his eye. He froze and turned his head in that direction. And there at the tree line, he saw the girl from before his cryosleep, not exactly hiding, but not approaching him either

[wolven91]

Bears In Space

The marauders had thought this would be an easy take. A tiny craft, slinking through the system, using the shadows of the planets to hide. Perfect to go undetected, if not that the raiding party was doing the very same.

The danger on this tiny craft was the ursidain guardian. A powerhouse in her own right, she'd fight tooth and claw for her human ward. But handle her and the human would be easy pickings. They'd caught the craft unawares, deliberately using a small craft of their own to sneak up submerged in the civilian craft's engine wake. Only a pilot who had used the same tactic would know what to look for. At most they'd think their engine was doing something strange, not that a raiding party was mere moments away from boarding them.

The fight for control was intense, but short.

Three of the marauders had been killed. One had their top half separated from their bottom in one, seemingly effortless, pull by the thirteen-foot-tall guardian. Ursidains could tear bulkheads from walls if angered enough, one draconian spine wasn't much of a problem.

The second's, an esquinine, head was limp against their shoulder at an odd angle, the wild swing that had connected had obviously broken their neck with ease. So much for their 'powers'. It didn't take a telepath to know that the ursidain would have killed each and every one of them at a moments notice.

The third and final casualty was an idiot taurian. He had lost their footing rushing the ursidain and had ended up on their back, firing upwards. The ursidain had merely stepped on them. An average ursidain weighed easily over a metric ton. She hadn't even needed to stomp; the fool's ribcage had snapped like thin dry twigs.

The remaining three team members had simply fired round after electrified round at the raging creature. Ursidains were hardly, but not invincible. A thin pelt and flesh prevented rounds from penetrating deeper. A fused ribcage protected their organs, muscles and tendons with naturally occurring carbon, strengthening their power and force. Realistically, the only thing ursidains naturally feared was deep water. Pressure was their enemy, so not even vacuum scared them thanks to their ridiculous biology.

But she eventually went down. The remaining three raiders were smart, staying away from her swipes and keeping their backs to a sealed door in the small cargo bay.

"Don't kill her." Ordered the lead. The human was nowhere to be found, the place reeked of them, but being so small, like a chintian or geckin, they could hide in places the other races couldn't go, there was no point in searching, so they kept their attention on the entrance to the cargo bay. No, the ursidain had to be kept alive so they could use her to pressure the human into giving up. Humans were soft. Weak. One cut and they bleed out, they didn't even have thick flesh or a protective pelt. They could be tricked.

"Human! This has already been a failure of a raid. Not even you are worth the loss of three of my finest." An obvious lie. Those three were wastes of space and with their departure from his crew, the reward for the human would be divided only three times instead of six. Realistically, the felinoid could have given the human a cut of their reward as thanks and still come out with more credits.

"I'll just kill your friend here and blow up the ship. You're not worth this effort."

"You realise you won't get away with this... right?" The ursidain rumbled from her knelt position, head rising. The three remaining pirates turned their attention to her.

"Oh no? An empty system, no signals going out, no relays even if there was and the witnesses about to be taken care of. Go on, how am I not going to get away with this?"

The ursidain grinned.

"You weren't paying attention to the-"

A deafening roar stole her words as a hurricane materialised in the cargo bay. A terrible force tore all four of the creatures from their place on the metal floor as the fury and might of the vacuum of space grabbed a hold of them. The ursidain knew what to look for as she tumbled head over heels towards the black. A human in a space suit, holding the emergency venting lever down. She caught eyes with her ward as she sailed past and out of the doors.

The raiding team screamed as they went, but nobody heard them, there's no sound in space and the moment they were clear of the air rushing out of the cargo bay, all sound cut off for them too. By the time their bodies collided with their own craft, two of the three were pretty much dead. They had attempted to hold their breaths and their lungs had exploded. The third only survived as they had no air in their lungs, but even then, a mere thirty seconds after entering the black, they too passed.

Their last vision was the ursidain, floating by with them. At least they got one of the pair.

The human on the other hand knew they had a few minutes. Using everything their guardian had taught them, they ensured that their own harness was attached to the miles long cord that kept them latched onto their craft. Then, they leapt from their ship.

The only thing they could hear was their own laboured breathing. 'Never get off the boat' was engrained on anyone who left the safety of a station or planet, the panic and fear of the void was real. Too many things could go wrong if one went floating out into the void. The human ignored the other lazily spinning corpses nearby, the heads-up display on their helmet highlighted the ursidain. They slowed their approach and immediately latched a hook onto the ursidain's belt. Checking it twice, the human began to reel in the tether.

Ursidains were hardy. The sheer strength of their chests and muscles, meant that for a time, vacuum would not kill them. Deep water was deadly, able to crush them as it worked against their strengths, but it meant in the event pirates boarded a ship without vacuum suits? It was better to just vent the whole ship into space while the ursidain distracted them. Just so long as they get picked up well within quarter of an hour... after that...

When the cargo bay sealed and repressurised, the human was watching their HUD for the green 'Pressurised' label before unlatching the helmet and throwing it aside.

When their hands shook the ursidain, nothing happened. They shook the giant again and they still remained unmoving.

It wasn't until the human slapped the ursidain with a desperate panicked shout that the guardian awoke with an 'ow!'.

"I thought you were dead!"

"So you slap dead people?!"

"You were MESSING with me!?"

"I thought you'd find it funny!"

"You're mental!"

"You're rubbing off on me then!"

Discord / KoFi

[space-blue]

Alien thoughts and concepts.

Alien movie concept: Highly intelligent, well trained, low drama professionals in an alien movie. They take all the precautions, don't trigger any of the easier things like black goo dust or mega sus eggs. They scan everything, use robots, have good protocols in place to work with their android, etc.

Maybe the focus could be over the relationship between the synthetics and the humans, since the topic seems so dear to the franchsie, with the alien serving as a stress point that changes the dynamic and forces people to the edge of their humanity.

And I think we can still get gore and screaming and messy deaths, but pros simply wouldn't make a mistake like snorting the local fauna on a cigarette break.

You know, maybe it's a military advance crew here to establish the first base around David's new colony. And unbeknownst to them, and almost everyone in the colony, he's been running his little fucked up experiments for decades, and the newcomers are fresh blood to test his babies on, meaning they're dealing with forceful invasion?

IDK man. I'm 4 films into the alien franchise and a liiiiiittle weeee bit tired of the "people goof while exploring and chaos ensues on spaceship" concept. Alien Romulus and Alien stand out, but I'd love to see a more in depth, slow paced, unsettling horror play out. Less about packing as many chestbursters in as possible and more about the cosmic horror of having found some sort of hostile limiter.

I'm especially bummed when humans see explicit proof of intelligent alien life and go 'mmmmm'okay.' like come on, this isn't Star Wars. In Covenant the *religious* dude had nothing to say about the ancient ruins they took refuge in, clearly created by a fully humanoid species? REALLY?

Say, give me a story about a 5 people, 3 humans, 2 synthetics, operating a small space relay. They're like lighthouse keepers in space, and all the quadrant's news goes through them.

And tensions climb as more and more colonies in a nearby systems go dark. Distress signals start singing through the radio, but due to the distance, it's already too late to help. And the problem seems to be spreading.

And then a refugee ship pings them. It's on their way, and needs an emergency stop because they aren't kitted out for long distances.

They have no reason not to help them, but they will be cold blooded and professional about this. The synthetics will go in as they can't catch any illness.

Maybe we can deal with aliens who have learned to be sneaky. Who don't take the more brutal and animalistic approach only. Like imagine the horror if one of them cut themselves on purpose to vent a segment of the ship? Imagine if they showed more of a willingness to stalk and ambush?

[carionto]

Overwhelming presence

Monitoring space is a complicated task due to the literal cosmic scale of the undertaking. However, security is paramount, all species learn this in their own histories, thus technology and methods to effectively keep track of most relevant objects in space has been thoroughly developed.

The (relatively) simplest and most commonly used is the Quantum Web - a series of micro-satellites dotted around a star system, each maintain a large field of quantum-entangled particles and relay any changes within it in real time to all associated monitoring stations. The primary method is by detecting changes in energy levels, as simple physical displacement often clutters the feed with random asteroids and debris, or other objects of non-sapient origin.

As the United Federation and the Galactic Coalition are in a bit of a... tense stage in their relationship at the moment, the bordering Neutral Zone is heavily monitored by Federation agents, especially all systems close to where they have deployed their Battle Moon.

One day, a Federation monitor was returning from a short break to notice something off about the readout. There were many big bright white dots moving quickly within the Neutral Zone. They had never seen anything like that before. Normally all readings are color coded based on known ship or station designs and typical power outputs throughout said vessel.

The flow of energy throughout a vessel is sort of a fingerprint in a way. If you zoom in on the readout, and if the Quantum Web field is saturated enough, you can sometimes make out individual power generators and consumers.

This was something else. Going closer just made the whole projection go white, as if the thing was hundreds of kilometers in every direction, but that couldn't be. First, even the Battle Moon doesn't produce an image like that and it is literally a 340km large moon. And second, these dots - spheres more accurately - seem to overlap constantly. Logically, this must be an error of some kind.

What was not logical is when those bright lights came up to relative physical viewing distance of the hidden monitoring station. Letting curiosity get the better of them, the Federation agent pointed a telescope where this "error" should be.

There was nothing there. Just an error then. Feeling relieved even though they didn't think they were nervous to begin with, they set about filing a report on the situation and requesting maintenance support. As they were about to finalize all necessary paperwork, an open channel hail pinged them.

"Hey there, is anyone out here? We, uhh, messed up and wiped our navcom, so we're kinda lost here. Could someone please send over a copy of the local system chart? We'd be real grateful if you also didn't tell our parents about this, okay? Like, we can trade for something, like Mick's fancy guitar" "Hey!" "What? You don't play, your dad just gave it to you cuz you randomly said you wanted one while high."

Taking a quick glance at the projector and comm-observer, the agent stopped. The messages were coming from those bright lights. Rushing back to the telescope, they quickly zeroed in on their location and found three small apparently custom built space craft of unknown design.

As the trio of ships kept sending out random conversations among the clearly young civilians on board, the agent maintained total silence. Not long after, a Coalition military scout craft appeared on the projector in the expected yellow energy pattern, confirming that the Quantum Web was functioning without fault.

Throughout the ensuing conversation and reprimand, they learned that the three ships belonged to Humans, a species very recently integrated into the Coalition. Little investigation had been done on them so far, mainly as they are quite far away and only reside within a single system.

So the question stands - what kind of energy signature would produce such a massive bright light? it couldn't be a ruse. You can't "trick" a quantum-entangled particle. Maybe... There are ancient anecdotes of true fusion reactors - miniature stars - but no, nobody utilizes that, it's far too dangerous and difficult just to contain let alone exploit.

No one in their right mind would use literal stars right next to them. Right?

[ppnuggie]

　　　　　　RODIMUS PRIME x gn reader

　　　　『　rodimus ,, gender neutral reader 』

　　-> avatar au | part 2

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, first contact au ,, avatar au ,, language barrier

　　— lmk what yall think of this :3 any critism or feedback is welcome <3 pls repost !!

          red flashed throughout the ship ,, alarms blaring in all directions as bots aboard panicked . no one knew what was happening ,, no information shared as they ran and gasped and stood frozen in distraught . rodimus wasnt sure of what was happening either ,, panicked like the rest of them but still staying as calm as he could .

          he transformed ,, determined to get to the control center and figure out what exactly was happening . he swerved around the panicking mechs ,, making sharp turns and excelling his speed . drifting into the control center ,, he transformed quickly and watched as a battle took place between autobot and decepticon . seekers littered the control center ,, locked in a fight with the piloting autobots . the control panel was smashed and burnt ,, lazer fire going in every which direction . rodimus wasted no time ,, quickly joining in the battle and punching a seeker off one of his fellow mechs .

          the ship tilted and turned ,, thrashing about as the battle raged on . rodimus grabbed the back of a seeker by their wings ,, shoving towards another seeker and kicking the one rushing towards him . with every punch and kick the mech gave ,, he was met with one from any lurking seeker ready to take a hit to him . dents and paint chipped ,, energon leaking from his mouth as he grabbed one seeker in a chokehold . energon spilt over the floor from his fellow autobots ,, and some other decepticons . it pooled beneath his pedes ,, covering the floor in bright magenta .

          the front of the ship was set ablaze ,, a sign that they were entering the atmosphere of earth . rodimus struggled in his battle with the decepticons ,, all the other autobots now bleeding out on the floor with their optics offline . it had to have been an ambush ,, decepticons hacking into autobot comm links and steering the pilots right into a trap . they mustve relayed another message ,, the seekers quickly retreating from the ship as the alarms blared .

          rodimus lost his grasp on the seeker in his servos ,, watching as they left and flew through the air . he rushed over to the control panel ,, pressing what buttons he could and grabbing the steers to pull away from any civilization below . he couldnt do much ,, narrowly steering the ship on a crash course through a dense forest where he hoped no humans would be there . rodimus could only wait ,, feeling the ship thrust and throttle about . he could hear bits and pieces flying off the ship and land who knows where .

          he could hear the forestry being broken ,, branches snapping and cackling as theyre massacred by the ship . he could only brace himself for impact ,, feeling the harsh thrust of being thrown to the back of the room as the ship crashed . smoke poured everywhere ,, circling the room as flames crawled in . rodimus could only see black after that ,, stuck in the abyss of eternal darkness until he could be brought back online . left to hope that maybe some autobots made it ,, maybe some autobots were on their way . all he was left to do was hope .

          rodimus didn't remember much ,, optics onlining as his systems yelled at him about his injuries . open wounds and gnashes leaking energon ,, dents and paint chipped in places . the first thing he could see when his optics finally focused was a face . one he hadnt seen before ,, almost like they were cybertronian but not exactly . the only response he could give was to shriek ,, causing the being to also shriek in return ,, running and hiding behind a bush .

          the creature was small ,, organic but not like the 'animals' he was shown pictures of beforehand . they look more like those humans ,, walking on two legs and having cybertronian features . curiosity captured the mech ,, wondering what they were . he couldnt contain his thoughts ,, so many questions about this place and them . he was starting to feel like perceptor in a way .

          they warbled something ,, eyes big and wide in caution yet they held a want in them . slowly ,, they stepped out from behind the flora ,, hand stretched out in front of them as they scooted slowly towards rodimus . he repeated their actions ,, holding his servo out as he moved towards them ,, until they suddenly touched . their hand was small and warm

against his cold servo . he could almost feel this beat under their 'skin'.

          their mouth moved upwards in a smile ,, eyes shining bright as they looked into his optics . rodimus returned the smile ,, curious about what else there was to know about these humans than what he was told . they didnt seem so threatening ,, so violent . they reminded him of those protoform turbofoxes he'd seen on cybertron . all soft plating and barely any teeth to them . humans couldnt be so bad ,, he thought .

[clairekudzu-secondbloom]

Alright, I've made a tentative first chapter for my first HDG fic!

Give me that constructive criticism, give me that praise and compliments, or give nothing at all and don't read, that's cool too!

Anyway, it's under the read more!

Domestication of Barbarians

Ch 1: Unexpected

This was supposed to be an easy trip! Just a quick dip into a nearby nebula, in front of the Affini Compact expansion; preliminary scans showed no signs of life in this sector, so after filing the requisite paperwork they were permitted a small ship to sightsee with. Four affini with 5 florets, that's more than enough affini to keep them safe.

But midway through the jump, the shuttle shuddered and suddenly dropped out of hyperspace in what felt like an explosion.

Eryth Tarax, Fourth Bloom, quickly took stock of the situation, checking the control terminal before muttering to herself, “Our hyperdrive has blown, but otherwise the hull is intact. No imminent danger to our florets or to us. Thank the Everbloom.” She sighed, relaxing her vine weave around her core.

“Apologies for the delay captain, I was running simulations to determine what happened. Would you like to hear the most likely scenario?” The ship AI, which handles most operations for the shuttle, asked Eryth.

“Yes, if you would.”

“The most likely scenario is that we were hit with a hyperspace charge, most likely a mine from some unknown sophont conflict. I am unable to determine any origin sophont, or when this battle occurred. It could have happened elsewhere and the mine drifted here, too, considering I'm not detecting any other mines in the vicinity.” The AI rattled off the results of its simulations, as requested.

Eryth sighed in relief again, then walked out of the helm to the rest of the ship. Outside the command room was an atrium, decorated into being a small park, with 7 rooms around it. There was the engine room towards the rear, the helm at the front, three large rooms on one side, and the remaining two rooms opposite those, along with the airlock door.

The captain knocked on the door of the room closest to the helm.

“Zoysia, are you and your florets okay in there?”

The door slid open, revealing another affini cradling two terrans in her vine-woven arms.

“Yes yes, we're all quite fine. Thank the stars they were already napping in my vines, though they were jolted awake. Are you and the ship well?” Zoysia Paoles, Second Bloom, wore a gentle but concerned look on her wood-covered face.

“Yes. The hyperdrive took damage though and will need to be repaired before we can get moving again. I’d hate to tear you away from your precious little cuties here for even a minute, but could you spare a vine to look it over, maybe repair it if you're able?”

“Of course. Julia, Zeff, you two behave. If you're good, there's extra Class-As for you both!” Zoysia nodded to Eryth before looking down at her florets, setting them on the floor of the room after turning around. The terrans nodded and replied, in unison, “Of course mistress!” They then carefully walked over to the bed at the back of the room, their magnetized shoes keeping them gently attached to the floor, but making it hard for them to move quickly on their own.

Eryth smiled as the florets moved away, before herself turning away and moving to the other rooms, her vines hooking into microloops on the floor rather than relying on magnets to keep her anchored, knocking and informing the other two affini of the ship's condition and apologizing for the delay in their trip.

She then returned to the helm, whereupon the ship AI started dumping new information. “I double-checked our position and rescanned the local planets. We're outside of comms range at the moment, but given the local expansion plans there should be a relay close enough in a terran month. With luck, Miss Zoysia can repair the hyperdrive before then and thus render my information irrelevant. We might be able to secure any needed resources from this system’s planets. However, one of these planets differs from preliminary scans by a large margin. It appears to harbor intelligent life.”

Eryth’s vines tightened at that mention. “Pre-sophont?”

“Undocumented sophont species, heavily utilizing iron, stone, fire, and acid.” The AI sent a photo to Eryth’s tablet, showing this species. A bipedal creature, with wings on their back, tall ears with horns curving around the base, a short snout on their face. Their body was mostly covered in fur, with patches of scales covering joints and vulnerable areas. It reminded Eryth of a bipedal version of a terran rabbit, mixed with what they called a dragon.

“Dirt. That's the only planet in this system with life, yes? That'll make it hard to get new flora or nutrients to regrow and repair with. We might have to try and sneak down there anyway. I don't think any of us are trained for first contact, nor to start a cotyledon. Roots and rot.” Eryth slapped the nearby desk with a vine, careful to not dent it.

“At least tell me they are peaceful and calm?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

“Of course not,” the AI replied.

[entropy-game-dev]

The cheeky last minute UI rework

A week ago, I had Lucinius play a near-complete version of the demo build and he had a bunch of good suggestions after playing it for a solid few hours.

One part of his feedback centered around how move information was displayed. Previously, in non-battle menus, the move info would follow your cursor, and thus you weren't able to mouse over the various stats or check the description (which would have outputted to a log that isn't visible anyway).

Now I've made it so that clicking on the move icon displays the window in a static pane, letting you mouse over the various icons. Also, the description now appears in-line inside the window, regardless of where you're looking at it!

I made a whole bunch of other changes, and ahead of tomorrow's demo release (I can't believe it's finally happening), you can read about them below the cut!!

v0.18 - Demo Build 1

Features:

Auto-deposit materials is working and on by default

Mouse over now shows curr/max for hp/en/ammo + stat title

Going past the max floors now sends you back to the ship

New trap added that instantly spawns an encounter

Clicking on an attack icon with the mouse now makes the info panel stay open

Clicking the description button/pressing pause with a move selected now displays it within the panel

Archive sprite added to base

Game now tracks enemies encountered and killed

Added target marker to tutorial area

Archive can view logs and tutorials, and enemy names

Balance:

Starting area has slightly more loops

Starting area has slightly higher encounter density,

Removed local relay from starting area

Added spatial constant to starting area

Added Holepunch routine to Punch Press

Slightly increased passive random recruit chance from 1 to 2%

Buffed max damage recruitment rate divisor from /3 to /2.5

Nerfed heal recruitment rate divisor from /3 to /4

Changed starting system escape fuel needed to 20

Gain a small amount of fuel when researching local/relativistic navigation

Added party size to the base matrix research rather than subsequent research

Features now scale around the mid floor of the dungeon instead of around floor 2

Dungeon floors, rooms, and corridors get bigger as you go down

Damage/heal recruit function ceiling'd so you make at least 1% progress when you do the correct action

Slightly revised title screen animation

Revised enemy encounter formula to scale around the center floor of the dungeon + adjusted dungeon encounter mass respectively

Changed Gimbal Lock's status from stun to slow

Made summons recruitable

Buffed all part slots and changed power load formula to compensate

10% buff to large enemy stats for each square above 1

Make killing with an element apply advantage, even if it resists or was neutral to the element

Polish:

"are likely in rooms" -> "are more often found in rooms"

"can be used for fuel" -> "could be used for fuel"

"once a line has formed" -> "once a line has formed in the element grid"

"the astronaut has been destroyed" -> "your suit has been critically damaged"

"the robot core's power load." -> "the robot core's power load (to the left of the equipped parts)."

Power load tutorial only comes up when you exceed it

Changed POWR to HEAL when looking at a healing move in the attack description

Disabled interaction with central 3x3 core area and changed description

Changed first strike/ambush bar colour and text

Added fuel unit value to fuel item descriptions

Added filter menu icon

Deep Diver sprite updated

Burrow sprite updated

Recruit chance icon doesn't show mouseover text when invisible

Swapped weapons 1 and 2 equip location on the assistant to match sprite appearance

Removed extra line on the bottom of the big map

Equip vfx effect now appears under move info panel

Black outline added to all dungeon features

Made recruitment pink text appear over the damange numbers

Made it so that locations can't spawn directly behind the black hole image in the navigation screen

Made the main black hole image slightly transparent in the navigation screen

Reordered research tutorials

Scan description revised to indicate it can reveal more and more information progressively

Updated matrix tutorial to talk about core tiers

Changed equip sprite fx to green

Swapped arm that has the arm computer in a cutscene

Tutorial edited to say cores have innate routines

Edited lowest_5levels to be an accurate tutorial

Bugs:

Disabled the ability to look at the big map during the beginning of an encounter

Floor scanning effect now shows all the time for unexplored tiles

Removed debug value allowing you to interact with lore objects infinite times

Priority of mouseover is only cleared with the text now

Fixed player recruit chance status doing the opposite of what it says it does

Fixed healing-type recruitment not working

Fixed no item tutorial firing incorrectly because research inventory manager was not ready

Conduct animation was not happening when the conducted element was not the last hit on an enemy

Fixed lowest floor tutorials not firing

[redlinkdreams]

Just Another Morning on the Normandy

Synopsis: In the quiet hush of early light aboard the Normandy, Shepard shares a rare moment of peace with Kaiden; coffee, starmaps, and quiet conversation offering something like comfort before the galaxy calls again.

--- Words: 783

--- Pairing: Gn!Shepard x Kaiden Alenko

--- Warnings: N/A

Shepard woke slowly, their eyes fluttering open to the faint blue glow of the viewport, the cold edges of space softened by sunlight just beginning to peek over a nearby planet’s curve. The early morning light filtered through the hull’s reinforced glass in quiet beams, casting soft lines across the floor and across Shepard’s face. For once, there was peace, a rare moment where the galaxy wasn’t demanding anything of them just yet.

They reached for their datapad out of habit, ready to dive into the day’s duties. But before they could fully shake the fog from their head, the soft rustle of movement nearby caught their attention.

Kaidan stood in the doorway, haloed in that same blue light, holding a warm mug in both hands like an offering. His hair was still a little tousled, eyes gentle.

“Morning, space cadet,” he said with a sleepy smile.

Shepard blinked at him, caught between sleep and something softer, and gave a bashful smile in return. They pulled a sweater over their shoulders as they padded toward him, the chill of the ship’s morning air still lingering in their quarters.

They accepted the mug with both hands, the heat welcome against their skin. Taking a sip, they hummed in approval; sweet, earthy, exactly how they liked it.

“Figured you’d need it,” Kaidan murmured.

Shepard gave a tired nod, their datapad now in hand as they skimmed the first few entries on their to-do list. “First up: star chart mapping,” they muttered, already bracing themselves.

They walked together in quiet companionship through the Normandy’s corridors. The hum of the ship’s core thrummed steadily beneath their boots, a familiar heartbeat neither of them acknowledged aloud.

Shepard took their seat at the nav console, tugging a second chair into place for Kaidan. He settled beside them without needing to be asked, already pulling up the mapped constellations from the night before.

While Kaidan worked diligently, making detailed notations on nearby systems and plotting potential routes, Shepard’s eyes wandered; first across their own screens, then to Kaidan’s concentrated face.

“You mind sending that course to Joker?” they asked softly, nodding toward Kaidan’s datapad.

He gave a small salute and passed it along with a few taps.

Shepard sighed as they checked the final relay reports. Everything was stable. A rare victory. Their stomach gave a quiet grumble.

“I’m starving,” they mumbled, standing with a stretch that cracked their shoulders. “You in?”

“Always,” Kaidan replied, rising beside them.

The mess hall was still quiet, early enough that only a few other crewmembers milled around. They grabbed their trays, Shepard piling on a modest breakfast while Kaidan snatched a strawberry off his plate and popped it into his mouth before even sitting down.

They ate in silence for a few moments, too hungry to talk. Then Kaidan broke the quiet with a teasing grin.

“Looking forward to saving the galaxy today, Commander?”

Shepard groaned, stabbing a piece of fruit with unnecessary force. “God, don’t remind me.”

“For someone who hates the job, you’re really good at it,” Kaidan said, casually twirling his fork before taking another bite.

“Even I’m surprised sometimes,” Shepard admitted, now mostly pushing their food around.

Kaidan tilted his head. “You’re thinking about something.”

Shepard sighed, lowering their voice. “I’m worried about the crew. I’ve dragged them through hell. And no one complains, because no one complains to the savior of the galaxy. I just… wonder how long they can keep carrying all this without breaking.”

Kaidan sat back, studying them carefully. His tone softened. “Well, maybe I’m biased. But I’d follow you anywhere, Shepard. No questions asked. And I know I’m not the only one. This crew believes in you. I believe in you, more than anyone.”

Shepard didn’t speak right away. Their expression shifted slightly, some invisible weight easing off their shoulders. “Thanks, Kaidan. That means more than I can say.”

He gave them a small smile and went back to his food.

After a beat, Shepard leaned forward with a smirk. “Okay but seriously… did the food get better, or are we just losing it?”

Kaidan took a thoughtful bite, then raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “You know what? It really has.”

Shepard laughed, the sound light and genuine. They looked at Kaidan with something warm behind their eyes, something softer than what they showed most people.

When breakfast was finished, they stood side by side, gathering their trays.

“See you later?” Shepard asked, almost too casual.

“Count on it,” Kaidan replied.

They parted with a quiet nod, their shoulders brushing one last time before turning toward the duties that awaited them, carrying the weight of the galaxy, maybe, but no longer so alone.

[sol-consort]

Good god imagine helldivers and cyberpunk humanity merging together when the council takes measures against them. I’m not familiar with helldivers but theres no way humans aren’t winning💀💀

Imagine helldiver soldiers that have gone into cyber psychosis, not even human anymore, just killing machines designed to do as much destruction as possible. Without the cognition to question orders.

Oh god, let me introduce you to the wonderful world of Helldivers!

Do you see all of these cool planets <3

They're ours. Belongs to humanity ONLY.

Don't let the map trick you. Each of those planets are far away in its own star system, each located at different clusters.

It's only drawn this way to ensure that Super Earth stays in the middle of the map, to remind its loyal citizen of their priorities.

To get a perspective on this alternative timeline of humanity's great galactic expansion—where any review on government military equipment with less than 5 stars gets removed and the reviewer is charged with treason—let's take a view on how our first contact went!

When humanity met a peaceful bunch of cuddly gaint bugs on one planet, we naturally harvested them and mushed them into paste to see how they may be of use to us. Turns out, we can make rocket fuel out of them! This is in great demand since in this universe, every ship has its own built-in Mass Relay. Yes, you heard that right. No more traffic jams at the nearest relay. Why bother when you can just install the relay into your own personal ship and teleport around the galaxy at 1000× the cost of energy?

So we bred those alien bugs, genetic engineering style, to make fuel. And they are gaint, let me tell you. Also, it turns out they are very intelligent and self-aware. Basically, the Rachni, oppsies. So now they repelled :( and now we have to go to war to kill them and get back the farm planets we used to farm them :(

But the war is just ugh so costly and we need fuel to power our ships to win! So we should kill more bugs to make more fuel to kill more bugs to make more fuel to—

You get it. Most of these planets are barren and beyond what humans can survive on. Some of them are under 24/7 meteor showers. Yet we still chase the bugs there to massacre to get that tasty fuel for our ships, under the name of liberty and propaganda that paints the bugs at the evil settlers stealing our precious cushy planets away!

Then, there is the other first contact with aliens.

One day, we stumbled upon an entire civilisation made out of sophisticated beings that valued peace. They lived in harmony so much so they didn't need an army. When they saw us, they welcomed us with open arms and were very eager to help and trade culture&knowledge.

So :) Humanity :) Wiped them off of the face of the galaxy :)

Who cares that they have mind control powers and natural biotics like the asari? Fuck those peace loving squids! The illuminate will rot in hell. Not human = can't trust em! And now, parents tell their children scary stories of what happens to people who don't vote! They get eaten by the squids!

Then, surprise surprise, in helldivers 2, the squids remerge from their hiding. A very very small fraction of their entire civilisation survived, and now they're out for revenge for what the humans did without justification or cause.

To twist our arm, they used their powers to mindwash our soldiers onto their foot soldier fodder to use against us! Research shows that the humans under their control are still aware, alive, and themselves, but are being puppeted by one squid souvenir.

So what did the great Super Earth do when met with hordes of their own loyal civilians who gave their all for liberty?

Call them the voteless and disown them from our species. Like, duh, they lost their right to vote in all elections. Who cares what species they are. If they don't have a voter's card, then they're as good as dirt in Super Earth's eyes! Kill them all.

And it stunned the illumnate so much how willing humans were to kill their own. Their cruel master plan that they stepped over their own moral code to enact, completely falling flat on its face.

-

Helldivers soldiers who go into cyberpsychosis would actually be celebrated. A thousand propaganda ads would be made to encourage soldiers to go into cyberpsychosis.

Because the thing is, even the still-stable and mentally well human soldiers are treated as replacable tools at best. A Helldiver is frozen in cryo sleep until it's time for their mission, then they're shot down through a bullet-like escape pod into the planet orbit, no pilot or anything.

And if they're a second late to evacuation? The pilot leaves without them and considers them as good as dead. If they accidentally walk outside the bounds of their mission to say explore the planet a bit? A barrage of missles falls upon them to execute them for treason.

not even human anymore, just killing machines designed to do as much destruction as possible. Without the cognition to question orders.

The thing is, this is already how Helldivers are literally treated with zero cyberware to boot. The amount of propaganda embedded within them since birth are stronger than any brainwashing machine. They cackle like maniacs in battle as they slaughter hoards of enemies.

They don't give them med kits or anything. They give them steroids, stimulations that block the pain receptiors, and fill the body with adrenaline. Helldivers willingly inject themselves with stims midst battle to force themselves to continue on and ignore any less than fatal injuries.

They already treat the fully organic humans as less than human. A helldiver is a glofied killing machine through and through. Even the lowest ranking member of the ship crew gets more rest time and real food than you.

The only difference is that they never say it outright. You get treated with immense respect and reverence that feeds into your ego... as long as you stay obedient and follow orders. It's a mind game.

You barely need to alter anything in this routine before integrating cyberpsychos into it.

There is minimal human contact allowed for helldivers. All you need to do is remove the leftover seconds of the Helldiver talking to their crew, and now the entire ship is cyberpsycho proof!

They'll herald cyberpsycho helldivers at the planet until it the enemy is eradicated, then they'll simply sedate those frenzied soldiers and toss them back in the freezer until it's time for the next mission.

At least a cyberpsycho won't ask for silly things like shore leave, food, entertainment, or any frivolous expenses that could've gone into the war effort.

Plus, all Helldivers' ships already have a large screen that plays government propaganda on loop, max volume, too. They won't be forgetting their prioritise anytime with a loud voice reminding them of how great Super Earth is and how it's your duty to sacrifice yourself to defend its citizen, how it's an honour to die in the name of lady liberty.

It's a fascism game, marry it to the capitalist hellscape of Cyberpunk and you get mindless slaves of all-powerful soldiers who can't wait to throw their life away just to increase a decimal point of the planet's liberation percentage. Endless loyalty gives way to constant surveillance as every prisoner becomes the warden to their inmate men in arms.

It's protheans on steroids, so much worse than what they did to the other species, so much more unforgiving than their methods. Full of corruption and propaganda.

But yes, that humanity will win the war against the entirety of Mass Effect species. That humanity won't play fair, even when it comes to fellow humans, that humanity will burn itself out and be its own end eventually.

Because that humanity would rather everyone lose than let the enemy win.

There was this planet where the bugs kept mutating into larger, faster, and more powerful versions of themselves. Helldivers rushed to it, did everything they could, but sadly, lost the fight.

So what did Super Earth do? Rather than surrender a planet full of rich resources and invaluable scientific research to the bugs who can't even read, they nuked the shit out of it.

Creating a blackhole in the process.

That used to be a planet you could hop to on Helldivers and walk around :)

Now it's a blackhole :)

Never mind the consequence for creating one so close by in our galaxy. Who cares what those nerd scientists have to say? We showed the aliens who's boss ! Woo! One point for humanity, baby!

Like as much as Mass Effect's humanity sucked, when you look at the alternative, you can't help but feel grateful for Udina's miniscule crimes in comparison to these other timelines.