#that fear engine sure is efficient!

[tmae3114]

oh I love it when they do fanservice

[carionto]

Ignition

Once the Galactic Coalition had (without other realistic options) given Humanity an equal position among the governing bodies, despite the fact they were a single planet race, the initial dread of what they would do eased. A little. When they showed how they powered their impossibly massive vessels, the fears of our ancestors who deemed the Responsibility Barrier a necessity reemerged a thousandfold.

The Humans, with a slight grin, said "Solar power, of course."

They took a delegation within the bowels of one of their smaller, civilian research craft, which was still bulkier, better armored, and more worryingly - better armed than most flagships of the other predator-races. Were we not able to see with our own eyes their actual, what they aptly call, Dreadnoughts, from distances you would normally need a telescope, we would have assumed this was their mightiest warship. Yet it was just one of hundreds.

As we passed through the ludicrously thick and seemingly excessive number of bulkheads and shielded and compartmentalized hallways, the ever present hum of raw power beneath our feet gradually became nerve-wracking. What is that? It reminded us of stories told by those who traveled near Black Holes - of the sheer vastness and infinite apathy they felt from the all consuming entities.

A dozen or so biometric gates later, we were greeted by a gigantic sphere, easily a hundred and fifty meters in diameter, an abomination of reinforced panels, wiring, heat pumps, and countless tubes, hanging from numerous power conduits in the middle of an even more massive chamber from behind our observation platform. A true, pure fusion reactor. And there were Humans, in full protective suits at least, working directly next to it within the ominous chamber.

"We wanted to give you a demonstration of our advances in the past millennia, so please observe as we turn on this one."

This one? As in... the power we were feeling was not from this monstrosity? We had to ask.

"Oh, of course not, this ship has three such reactors, we recently performed a full maintenance on this and decided to delay reactivating it for you to see."

The delegates' mouths (or equivalents) were agape. Sure, nuclear fusion is known far and wide, but due to it's high potential for cataclysmic failure, or worse, deliberate destruction, the vast majority of such reactors were mostly found in deep space stations where solar radiation was scarce. Background radiation converters, while efficient at what they do, were nowhere sufficient enough for anything more than as passive emergency battery chargers. And no civilization kept fusion reactors anywhere near populated or colonizeable planets.

Yet here they were, looking at one nearly five times larger than any other known or attempted. And there were three on this ship alone. They counted hundreds of similar size, a few dozen of their Dreadnoughts, thousands of smaller vessels ferrying between the stations, the surface, and other larger ships. Countless world ending bombs-in-waiting right around the Humans' only home.

"Yeah, us science ships get the biggest ones, kinda need the extra oomph for our projects. The military kids like their redundancies, so theirs are smaller."

A slight relief.

"I think their newest capital ship, the UGSF Caliban of York, has fifteen, each about half ours."

A few delegates passed out. Their attendants rushed to salvage some dignity, but Captain Knoslark of this vessel, The Radiant Dusk at Everest, didn't seem surprised or offended and simply waited for the delegation to regain composure before continuing.

"This is my favorite part."

He said quietly with a glint in his eyes, then his tone changed to a more formal and authoritative one.

"Chief Engineer Ira Tameki, status of Reactor 2."

"All green, Captain. She's ready to purr to life at your command."

"Good. Then," his tone shifted once again, to a far more theatrical one as he took a pose, half turning his body and extending his right hand towards the reactor, index finger pointing dramatically. As he pronounced every syllable of the next word, there was a silent resigned sigh from his crew:

"ignition!"

Outwardly, nothing of significance changed. The engineers clicked at their consoles, bars slowly rose and everyone was deliberately doing their best to make it clear they were ignoring the fact that the captain was still in the same pose.

There was a muffled thump from the chamber, then the hum beneath their feet became a rumble for a few moments before steadying back to a now slightly more intense almost-buzz. Physically, nothing all that noteworthy. Mentally, everyone in the delegation was in true shock as they fully understood what they had just witnessed done all too casually:

The birth of a star.

[frostbitebakery]

You See Such Mad Things Happening

an The Unlucky Ones snippet

The Curse rises out of him, ghostly bones tapping along his arm in question.

Bly doesn’t know how to answer. His chest feels funny still. Scientist Se has patiently explained to him - “you died” - what had happened before he woke up. But he must’ve done it wrong?

There’s transparisteel cubes around the capsules now.

“I want my batch,” he whispers into his arm, carefully muffled, daringly out loud. He shouldn’t. He must already be in trouble for dying wrong.

He can’t even hear the thuds of Wolffe punching against his own cube. His knuckles are bloody and used to write mean things.

Cody is trying to get Wolffe’s attention.

Wolffe will get in trouble, too. He surely will be disciplined if he doesn’t wipe away the mean words.

The Curse puts a hand against the glass, skull turning to look at Bly.

“I don’t know,” he replies softly. “Maybe it’s because you acted funny yesterday?”

The Curse had grown so large, had called its other halves to itself until they melted into each other. It had looked beautiful and it had felt— scary. But that’s dumb. They’re clones, there’s no need to feel scared if the fear response isn’t to release adrenaline in order to accomplish the mission in an efficient and timely manner.

The lights had clattered and exploded all around them, white halls plunged into darkness, the transparisteel glittering down to the floor. It had been so pretty.

Commander Fordo had snagged him up while Commander Alpha-Seventeen had carried Cody away in the other direction. Gree had been taken away by another Alpha class, too fast for Bly to see who it was.

Cody had looked as mesmerized as Bly had felt. Everyone else had panicked.

And now there are transparisteel cubes around their capsules.

“What if I have a bad dream again?” He can’t go to Cody. Or Wolffe. Or Fox. Or—

He rubs the sniffle into his sleeve. He can’t go to anyone.

The Curse curls around him and he imagines, with everything he’s got, that he can feel it, that it has flesh and skin and warmth.

He comes out of a light doze when a bony hand waves in front of his face, flowing to the bottom edge of the mattress and pointing.

“Stop it, silly,” he chides and looks around. No one is watching him. Fox is playing hand signals with his Curse. Cody ignores his like always. Wolffe— Wolffe isn’t there. Where—

His brother is guided back into their capsule room by an angry looking Alpha-Seventeen, cleaning droid under one arm.

The Curse taps the mattress again and Bly minutely shakes his head. Not while Alpha-Seventeen is here. Bly trusts him with his life but this isn’t about his life.

“Start of night cycle,” the voice in the ceiling announces and the capsules automatically close.

He hurriedly ducks his head and lies down.

The Curse is still outside his body, illuminating the inside enough to crawl to the end of the mattress and fumble a hand under it until he finds the slit in the cover, the pens and flimsi.

He makes himself comfortable on his stomach, knowing the Curse will hover around and through him.

The Curse snaps its jaw a few times, that weird metal rattle only felt, not heard.

“What do you want me to draw?”

The pen follows the glowing finger bones, tracing curves and circles. No straight lines, no hard edges.

Bly looks at the thing when they’re done, angles the flimsi to get a better idea. “What is it? Looks like something from survival sims.” He squints, holds the drawing closer to his face. “Is that a—“ He falters. Stupid survival sims. He knows this. His memory was literally engineered to be eidetic. “A… an angiosperms type plant?”

The Curse hovers next to him, mute.

“A flower, silly.”

It tilts its skull and one of its hands comes out of his chest where his heart is.

“Uh, thank you?” Bly has no idea what the Curse means.

It snaps its jaws at him before sinking into his skin again.

“Goodnight to you, too,” he grins, carefully tucking the drawing under his nightshirt.

[writeouswriter]

pls no anti ai art demagogy on my dash, thx

(X) in reference to this reblog I assume.

This is the wildest ask I’ve ever gotten.

“Please no love for the humanity of creation on my dash, please. Please no acknowledgement that art and the human experience behind those making it is inherently and fundamentally intertwined. Please no shoving the fact in my face that art is meant to connect rather than consume.

And please no pointing out the basic truth that most AI engines are built off the stolen work of others.”

Demagogy, noun: political activity or practices that seek support by appealing to the desires and prejudices of ordinary people rather than by using rational argument.

You come into MY house, you tell me what not to reblog on MY blog, and you what? Call me “irrational” and insult my understanding of the topic in the process?

Political activity, political activity... fuck off. Actors, writers, artists, those most affected by this ARE the ordinary people, and their concerns and fears surrounding this are perfectly rational.

And you know, nothing hits it home more for me than when I thought about my favourite show at the moment, the one that makes me lose my mind a thousand times over, I thought about everything in it that makes me tick, thought about both strong points and weak points, because it is flawed, god, is it flawed because people inherently are, and that’s the beauty, but mostly, I thought about the sheer amount of care/thought and depth put into it in a way I've never really seen before and in a medium/genre/whatever you'd absolutely never expect to find that thought put into, especially if taken completely at a surface level. Thought about the levels of metaphor and symbolism layered in beneath the silliness, thought about the callbacks and clever timing, thought about the behind the scenes arguments about what direction worked best for the narrative and the audience, arguments that took place because of how much they cared not just about telling a good story, but about telling one that really means something to them.

Thought about the love, the time, the excitement and the flair and personality and background and intent of each and every person behind the team bleeding its way into the scripts, into the acting, into the heart of what makes it truly what it is, and how that love bleeds into the audience as well, how that love and human connection is what prompts people to write full page essays and analyses on it, draw fanart for it, create the most beautiful fics for it, that love is what prompts them to laugh and cry and vibrate at the speed of sound thinking about it, and what prompts thousands upon thousands to come together in their appreciation for and relation to it, rallying around it like a group of cavemen around a campfire when they had never before seen the flame.

And then.... then I thought about the idea of that same show being written by an AI and genuinely felt physically ill. Because no real care will have been put into that beyond "If it looks like a TV show, sounds like a TV show, it must be a TV show." And on the surface, maybe it’d look fine, I’m sure some people wouldn’t notice. But it’d not only be made without thought, but consumed without thought. And, sure, maybe that'll fill you up in the short term, but it's gonna leave you feeling hollow and sick eventually. Because stories are not a thing to be mass produced with a random assortment of the cheapest quality materials on a conveyor belt that shovels them directly into people's throats at the most efficient speed possible, stories are not a thing meant to just be consumed! They are a thing made with intent in every aspect, even when accidental because our lives shape it subconsciously, they are a thing made with love, a thing to be savoured! And yes, for that to happen, they will take a lot of time and hard work and dedication, all of which deserve fair compensation and respect, all of which cannot just be replaced by a sham amalgamation of these things, and they will be all the better for it.

And on some level, corporations know this, and they want you to blame their shortcomings on the writers, on the artists, they want you to look at things like the strikes and those rallying against AI and get mad that they’re keeping art from the common people, or forcing them to come to this, or they want you to think they’re simply trying to make art more accessible, all the while building their conveyor belts in the background with the blood of those they’re kicking down, taking away jobs and shoving the humanity out of the picture.

Art is made to communicate, and sometimes it’s frustrating when we can’t get that communication across, when the image we want to convey is out of our skill level, our capability, when our words get tangled up, jumbled together and we need a helping hand to find the right ones again, and on this level, maybe AI could be a useful supplemental tool, or a fun little thing to mess around with, if ethically sourced, if used for good, if taking into account and graciously acknowledging exactly how it’s being used as a tool, rather than trying to pass it off as something it’s not.

But is it political, is it irrational, to merely state that the human condition cannot be replaced?

——

The unfollow button is free, I don’t work for you.

[daisybianca]

pairing: carlos sainz jr. x femalereader

summary: the race track is a flurry of motion as cars speed down the road, engines roaring. but one car, driven by your boyfriend, Carlos, slips, crashes, skids across the track, and bursts into flames.

warnings: mentions of injuries

YOU STAND AMONG the crowd at the WAGS stand, waiting for your boyfriend, Carlos, to race past.

The sun beats down on your skin, and the smell of sunblock mixed with the adrenaline of the race fills the air. The fans cheer as the cars roar past, and you scan the track for any sign of Carlos.

You exhale a breath of relief because it is the last lap and your noyfriend is in third place. The leaders are Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

You're enjoying the race when suddenly, a loud noise startles you.

The sounds from the crowd around you fade away as you catch sight of Carlos' wrecked car on the track.

"Oh my God, Carlos!" you cry out.

The other WAGS instantly rush to tou, their words of reassurance blurring together in the background. You're barely even aware of their presence. All you can see is the fire and the rescuers working to reach your boyfriend.

You turn to face the track and see Carlos' car crashing into the pavement on a dangerous turn. The impact sends sparks flying, and smoke begins to fill the air. Some people rush to the scene, trying to pull Carlos out of the car before it's too late.

In the midst of it all, you can't help but feel grateful for Lando. As soon as he sees the accident, he stops his car and runs to help.

You watch with bated breath as the rescuers work quickly and efficiently. A sense of panic rises within you, and your heart races as you wonder if your boyfriend will make it out alive.

The pain and despair you feel at that moment are almost too much to bear. You strain your eyes, watching their every move and waiting for any sign of hope. But as you see the car burst into flames, your heart sinks into your stomach.

As you try to compose yourself, you can't help but think about the dangers of the racing lifestyle. You realize that your love for Carlos comes with a high risk, and you're not sure how to navigate it. But at the same time, you feel like he's the only one who truly understands you and makes you feel alive.

As you stand there, your heart racing and your eyes heavy with tears, you pray that Carlos will be okay.

You feel a few flashes flickering around you and you feel resentment towards the paps who seem to care more about taking photos than the well-being of the person they're capturing in the frame.

As the rescue team pulls Carlos from the burning wreckage, you watch with a mix of emotion- fear, relief, and anger.

They rush him away, probably to the medical center of Ferrari.

Now you can breathe a little more easily.

You know that he's a fighter, after all. And the strongest person you've ever known as well.

[waksworldrebooted]

MTV Era Motorcity Masterpost (+ NEVER BEFORE SEEN INFORMATION)

In 2000, Chris Prynoski pitched a cartoon called Motorcity.

He made a card and a website promoting the show, which wouldn't see the light of day until the Walt Disney Company got their hands on it.

THE SETUP

"MotorCity is The Dukes of Hazzard meets Akira. It's American Graffiti and Big Daddy Roth rumbling with 8 cylinders into the world of Sci-Fi. It's the heart of American car culture driven to the next level."

 "Sex, cars, Rock & Roll, and the freedom to wrap your ride around a tree trunk goin' 160."

"In the near future, concerns over global warming, pollution, and the ever-worsening problem of gridlock in America’s major cities brings about the Anti-Combustion Acts of 2009." "These laws banned the use of any vehicle powered by an internal combustion engine. At first there was a lot of vocal opposition. But the so-called "Digital Revolution" as well as the advent of amazing new transportation technologies neatly filled the void, and the benefits of an improved environment along with a safer, faster and more efficient means of getting from point A to B managed to win even the staunchest opponents over. The oil companies and car manufacturers were forced to shut down under the political and economic pressures." "And a new era was born. Cleaner, faster and safer. America’s cities became modern utopias where its citizens could travel without fear or hazard in comfortable flying boxes affectionately known as "living rooms", and Detroit (The Renaissance City), became the finest example of this new policy. But with all of this wondrous innovation, something was lost. Something inherent in the soul of old America, something called freedom. The freedom to go anywhere. Anyhow. As fast, or as slow as you want. The freedom to speed. And the freedom to die." "This is where our characters come in. A few radicals realized that although you might never die in the "living rooms" , you’ll never really live in them either. So in the "Live fast and die young" mind-set, they fight the law. Scavenging parts and gas from Detroit’s massive underground, Mike Chilton and his gang, as well as a few others are trying to recapture some of what it meant to risk all for the freedom of speed."

THE CHARACTERS

Mike Chilton: A young talent on the illegal race circuit. Mike's right leg is always twitching and itching to jam a gas pedal to the floorboards, and his foot is as lead as they come. He's got gasoline surging through his veins and a 450 horsepower soul. His heart burns to drive and it's all he can do to keep moving faster and faster so that the flames don't consume him. He might be a gangly 19-year-old kid, but his ride has as much muscle as he'll ever need and he knows how to use it.

Vehicle of choice: Retrofitted '77 Trans Am

Julie Capulsky: An Anthropology student with a quick mind and a quicker pulse. She's a city girl with a passion for adventure who's secretly writing a paper on the underground "Burner" culture. As she gets to know Mike and his crew, she feels the freedom of the road and learns the power of a rumbling big block at her command. She is torn between the high performance life of a Gearhead and the love of her father who has sworn to take them down.

Vehicle of Choice: Any Hot Rod that'll give her a ride.

Lt. Capulsky: Julie's Dad and head of Detroit's Anti-Combustion Enforcement Division. He's old enough to remember when the highways were the arteries of America and the drivers were its blood. He rode with Fast Eddy in his youth and understands the joy of inhaling the fumes of burning rubber as the hot road turns his tires to black jelly. He's forced to deal with enforcing a law he's not sure he believes in. But that doesn't stop him from holding the record for the most illegal auto busts in the state of Michigan.

Vehicle of choice: Police "Living Room"

Ed Pirelli: (Fast Eddy) The old-timer who serves as Mike and the crew's link to the past, as well as their guide for the future. A wrecked hulk of a man, Eddy lived in a time when America was the land of wide-open spaces, and you had the liberty to go where, when and how you wanted to travel. You had the freedom to live, and the freedom to die. None of those damn boxes.

Vehicle of choice: Retrofitted '58 Chevy Roadster

Greg Raden: This young cop looks up to Lt. Capulsky as his ultimate hero. Born after the Anti-Combustion Act, He doesn't understand the rush of a vibrating steering wheel responding to every reflex of your sweaty palms. He wants nothing more than to grind the gears of the "Burners" to a halt.

Vehicle of choice: Police "Living Room"

Dave Earnhardt: Mike's worthy rival on the race circuit. He's a speed demon who stops at nothing to win. He might be Mike's worst enemy on the tar, but he'd take a speeding bullet for him off the track.

Vehicle of choice: Retrofitted '69 Camaro RS

Holly Biscayne: A fellow "Burner" who has a thing for Mike. She's jealous and suspicious of Julie's big city motives. She wants to make sure that when the checkered flag waves, she'll be on top.

Vehicle of choice: Retrofitted '05 Jaguar convertible

Brute Conklin: The bastard child of internal combustion and computer technology. This crafty gearhead beats "The Man" at his own game with a never-ending digital assault on the computers that control the Global Satellite System.

Vehicle of choice: Chopped 98' Harley Pan-head

Claire Constance: This ice queen might look like a hot number, but she's really a wet blanket who tries to smother her best friend Julie's fire. She can't understand what's with risking your life in the "sewers" when you can be shopping in style in the safety and comfort of your own clean home.

Vehicle of choice: None if she can help it

Promo card released in 2000

Concept art made shortly after the trailer (ones that closely resemble the final show)

From left to right: Luv (Dutch), Holly Biscayne, Chuck, Mike Chilton, Julie Kapulsky, Claire Constance, Texas, Greg Raden (Tooley), Lt Kapulsky (Abraham Kane), and The Mayor of Detroit

Pitch Trailer

[yumiyue07]

Through Fire and Blood

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 Part 17 | Part 18

｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★ POV: K-idol x reader

H/N = His name Y/N = Your name

M/N1 = Member 1’s name (choose any member of your bias’ group) M/N2 = Member 2’s name (choose any member of your bias’ group

Trigger warning: swearing, violence ｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆｡･:*:･ﾟ’★

H/N’s men stormed in, swiftly overpowering Cobra and his remaining henchmen. Viper, the spy, was dragged to his boss, his face bloodied and defeated. Cobra glanced at him, his expression sour, unpleased to see one of his best men bested so easily. The other one, Python – or Jun Ho, as you now knew him – was dead.

Cobra sneered, his lips curling as he eyed H/N with a mix of seething rage and reluctant respect. "So that was your plan all along," he spat, his voice dripping with bitterness. "Playing for time, weren’t you? Buying time for your snipers to move in position." He struggled against his captors, but his defiance faltered in the face of his complete defeat.

One of H/N's men stepped forward, awaiting orders. "What should we do with him, Boss?"

H/N's gaze hardened, his voice cold and resolute.

"Whatever it takes to keep a cobra happy," he rasped, the dangerous edge of vengeance creeping into his words. His eyes never left Cobra as he added, "Just make sure it's a one-way ticket."

M/N1 and M/N2 moved with practiced efficiency, supporting H/N on either side and guiding you both toward the exit. As you neared the door, you cast one last glance back at Jun Ho’s still body. Your heart tightened, and you whispered a quiet "Thank you," knowing that you owed him your life.

Outside, the chaos of the battle lingered in the aftermath—Cobra’s men lay scattered, either unconscious or groaning in defeat. But there was no time to dwell. The urgency gripped you as you saw H/N struggling, his face pale and his steps unsteady.

"We have to hurry," you urged, your voice trembling with a rising panic. Every second felt like a countdown you couldn’t afford to lose. Your eyes darted anxiously, searching for the quickest path to safety.

M/N1’s jaw tightened. "There’s a car just around the corner," he said, his tone grim and urgent. "We’ll get you both out of here. Fast."

With M/N1 and M/N2 flanking you for protection, you hurriedly helped H/N forward. Each step was agony, each second stretched, the fear of Cobra’s remaining men catching up gnawing at your thoughts. When you finally reached the car, M/N2 flung open the door, and M/N1 carefully eased H/N inside. His breathing was shallow, uneven, and it sent waves of dread through you.

"Hang in there, my love," you whispered, brushing a trembling hand over his damp forehead. His skin felt cold under your fingers, and your heart clenched painfully. "We’re almost safe… just hold on a little longer."

H/N managed a faint, weary smile, his hand seeking yours in the dim light. He gave it a weak but reassuring squeeze. "As long as we’re together…" he murmured, his strength fading with each word.

M/N1 and M/N2 quickly joined you, slamming the doors shut. The car’s engine roared to life, and you sped away from the scene of chaos, the warehouse fading into the night.

As the car sped through the darkened streets, the rising smoke in the distance seemed to follow like a lingering shadow of the chaos you’d just escaped. The scent of burning filled the air, and H/N’s faint words pierced through the tension like a lifeline. "The best way to smoke out a snake's den," he muttered, a flicker of his usual sharpness slipping through the pain. His body trembled with each labored breath, his once strong and formidable presence reduced to a fragile state, yet he still found room for that hint of defiance.

M/N1, sitting in the passenger’s seat, cast a glance at H/N, his lips pressed into a hard line. "Drive faster, M/N2," he barked, the command tinged with desperation. His eyes held the weight of years of loyalty, knowing his boss’s fate was in the balance.

M/N2 didn’t need further urging. He pressed the gas pedal harder, the car lurching forward with a burst of speed. The engine growled beneath you as the vehicle flew down the empty roads, every second stretching painfully long.

H/N’s head rested on your lap, his breaths uneven, his body too still for your liking. You cradled him gently, your fingers brushing through his hair with tender care the way he loved it, trying to soothe him the way you always did. You could feel the warmth of his skin slowly slipping away, and it terrified you. "Stay with me," you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of your fear. "We’re almost there. Just a little longer."

His eyes, heavy-lidded with exhaustion, fluttered open and locked onto yours. Despite the haze of pain, there was warmth in them and something else—a promise. "How can I leave such a beautiful angel... I’m not going anywhere. Promise," he murmured, his words soft but resolute. He reached for your hand, his fingers entwining with yours, surprising you with the strength still lingering in his grip. He held on as though letting go would mean losing more than just his life.

Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill over, but you fought them back. You had to be strong now, for him. You squeezed his hand, silently vowing that you wouldn’t let him slip away—not when you had fought so hard to be together.

The car sped through the streets, the lights of the city blurring past in a dizzying array. M/N1 kept his eyes fixed ahead, his jaw set in determination, while M/N2 navigated the quickest route to the nearest safe house, where medical help awaited.

"Just hold on a little longer," you pleaded, your free hand continuing its soothing motion through his hair.

H/N closed his eyes, his breathing steadying slightly as he drew strength from your presence. "I will," he promised, his voice stronger this time. "For you."

M/N1 glanced back, his eyes softening as he saw the worry etched on your face. "We’re almost there," he reassured, his tone gentle. "Hang in there, both of you."

As you neared the safe house, the reality of the situation settled in. You had escaped the immediate danger, but the road ahead was still fraught with challenges.

The car came to a jarring halt outside the safe house, the sudden stop snapping you back to reality. M/N1 and M/N2 wasted no time, swiftly exiting the vehicle and opening the doors. Together, they moved with practiced precision, carefully lifting H/N from the back seat as you hovered close, your heart racing.

Your eyes lingered for a moment on the distant smoke still curling into the night sky, a dark reminder of the chaos you’d just escaped. But all of that felt so far away now—your entire world was here, focused on H/N as he struggled to remain conscious.

"We need to move quickly," M/N1 said, his voice low but urgent, as they helped support H/N’s weight between them. His steps were slow, faltering, and your worry deepened with every second.

You walked alongside him, one hand resting gently on his arm, offering what little comfort you could. "We’re here, H/N," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "You’re safe now."

He opened his eyes, meeting your gaze, and for a brief moment, the hint of a smile tugged at his lips. "Safe... with you by my side," he murmured, his voice raspy but full of meaning.

Inside the safe house, everything was a blur of motion. M/N2 called out for medical assistance, and you helped ease H/N onto a couch. His bloodstained shirt clung to his skin, a painful reminder of how close you’d come to losing him.

You knelt beside him again, your hand trembling as you stroked his hair. "Stay with me," you whispered once more, fighting back tears. "We made it this far—we’ll get through this too."

H/N’s hand found yours, gripping it weakly. "I promised not to leave you...I’m keeping that promise," he whispered back, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity, even as his body fought against the exhaustion.

For a brief moment, the promise to fight, to survive, and to stay by each other's side lingered between you. The sound of approaching footsteps signaled the arrival of medical help.

To be continued...

♡

Stay tuned for part 20!

Love, YumiYue 🌙

(⌒▽⌒)♡

Follow me on: 📸 Instagram: @yumiyue07 🎵 TikTok: @yumiyue07 📝 Wattpad: @LunaVerse_YumiYue

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fan fiction inspired by Stray Kids’ song “Freeze”. All characters and events are fictional and are not intended to represent real people or events.

All rights reserved. Please do not repost or reproduce this story without permission.

© 2024 LunaVerse - YumiYue07. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

Tag list ♡ @catlove83 @burningemberz @dashhhhkaaa

[5eraphim]

Judgment and Death for Yandere Spy, Sniper or Engineer?

You put two bad bitches (and sniper) in one ask and expect me to pick one- im not strong enough, i fear 😔

Link to the tarot card ask meme!

Engie

Judgment - Would this yandere ever open up to their darling? Engineer is well-known by his comrades as the level-headed voice of reason, the friend to all, and when he started falling for you, he imagined it wouldn't take much to win you over. He was good looking charismatic, and he would do anything for you. Though it wouldn't be till much later that he realized he didn't just want to be a lover, he wanted to be your everything. Sure, he might try and play "the gentleman" to get closer to you, but it wasn't enough to be your closest friend, and it wasn't until he realized how much he hated seeing you fraternize with the others did he understand how deeply his infatuation ran. Engie would do everything he could beforehand to get you to fall for him of your own accord, but if that weren't enough, you were in for one hell of a wake-up call when you learned not to underestimate the nice guy. Death - Would this yandere ever kill their darling? If not, would this yandere "kill" undesirable traits of their darling? Honestly, Engineer seems the least likely to kill you off out of any of the mercs. It's not because he's soft, far from it, but he may see killing you as taking the "easy way out." It would be a grave failure on his part if he were to end your life because you became too much of a liability. He'll keep you in a dark cellar sustained on dirty water and table scraps, barely clinging to life before he'd allow you the sweet release of death. 

Spy

Judgment - Would this yandere ever open up to their darling? For the Spy, the unfortunate reality is that it's unlikely he could even if he wanted to. Sure, you're bound to figure out eventually of his lovesickness, but you're unlikely to ever learn much beyond the surface. He's an enigma, you can do your best to study and calculate what he does, but you'll never really understand. He's lived more than just a double life. He's betrayed, backstabbed, and double-crossed almost everyone he's encountered, enemies and loved ones alike. It's not an easy or happy life; nevertheless, it's the burden he must continue to bear. No matter how attracted he may be to you or how he longs for an idyllic mutual devotion, he knows to hope for something like this would only mean disappointment. He'll do what he can to know everything about you, one of the most lethal and effective stalkers, but you don't have a prayer of learning even a fraction of an amount about him.  Death - Would this yandere ever kill their darling? If not, would this yandere "kill" undesirable traits of their darling? It's certainly possible. (As mentioned in this other post) He is lethal and efficient, eliminating all incriminating evidence pointing to him and tying up any loose ends. Though this would be a last resort, Spy prefers not to get his hands dirty if he can help it. He's more likely to play mind games with you and break your psyche before ever actually laying a hand on you.

Sniper

Judgment - Would this yandere ever open up to their darling? Unlikely, but not precisely because he chooses not to. For Sniper, it actually goes a bit further than that. Sniper would have difficulty expressing his emotions directly, and he can hardly make sense of them himself. He prided himself on being a "lone wolf" type all his life. He worked alone, end of story. Hell, he was abandoned by his parents and has kept to himself ever since. Despite all this, Sniper knows he's attached to you in a way he'd never known. Before you catch on to how he really feels about you, Sniper would express his desire to "protect you." He tells you he wants you close at all times and that if you ever tried to leave, you'd be belly up instantly. What he doesn't tell you is it wouldn't be an attack from the enemy that would incapacitate you. Death - Would this yandere ever kill their darling? If not, would this yandere "kill" undesirable traits of their darling? He's, unfortunately, one of the few mercs who would likely pull the trigger on you if he felt you were dangerously close to leaving him. But before that, he'd opt to leave you wounded, and in his care, if he can't control your heart, there are certainly more straightforward methods to keep you from getting away.

[tooti-fruiti]

WATCHFUL EYE [CHAPTER THREE]

The tools and the talent

You followed Engineer into what seemed to be a garage where a van was waiting for you.

The word "red" was painted on the side and you ran your hand over the side.

"This here van has been suited to the personal needs of the game. It has a device under the base so that if the car blows up, it fixes itself and spawns back here at the base."

"That's incredible!" You said.

Engineer smiled proudly. "Mhmm, and if you die, you and your weapons will respawn back at the base too."

"Wait...die?" You asked.

"Well sure, everyone dies at least once during the game. Don't worry, no matter how you die it's quick and painless and you'll respawn immediately."

"Is that what the surgery's for?"

"Yes and no." Engineer explained. "You also need a chip installed to make sure you can use my teleportation device. And Ms. Pauling needs your DNA so that she make a clone of you for the game."

"This is like a real life video game.." You said, still trying to process everything.

"Yeah, it's a lot to grasp onto." Engineer rubbed the back of his neck. "You wanna know what helped me in my first weeks before I got used to my job?"

You looked up at him and nodded.

"Watch something you think is funny." He said. "Medic may be our best doctor, but I live by the philosophy that laughter is the best medicine."

You smiled at him and rubbed your arms. "Thanks."

"Sure thing miss." He said. "One last thing before I send you down to Medic's lab for the surgery." He said leaving the turning a blueprint.

"Next week, we'll have a new device inside the building." He said as you looked at the blueprint beside him.

"It's called a Spy-checker. As his name suggests, he's able to disguise himself as anyone of us and turn invisible so that he can't be found." He explained. "However, this device will be able to see when he's invisible and if he's wearing a disguise."

"Man, you guys really don't like Spy." You said.

Engineer let out a loud laugh. "Not our Spy! This is for the enemy Spy- Spy's clone if you will."

You made an o shape with your mouth and looked down at the blueprint.

"This is all so incredible and I can't believe this is all real..." You said.

Engineer chuckled and gave you a pat on your back. "Before Medic starts your surgery, ask him what everyone does so that you can work with us more efficiently and so that you know how to avoid an enemy's attack. Alright?"

You nod. "Wait one more question, will the surgery hurt?"

"Well, no. But since Medic is a goddamn psychopath and refuses to put people to sleep, yes."

You stated at Engineer in fear, waiting for him to say "Just kidding!" Or "Haha! Look at your face!". But he never did.

"Oh jesus..." You said, not wanting to leave the room now.

"It's alright, miss. It ain't gonna hurt that bad. Just ask him to be gentle with you, alright?" He said and gave your a little nudge out of the garage.

You nodded.

"Alright, now Medic's lab is just down those stairs and into the basement."

"Thank you." You said as you walked out of the garage and slowly made your way to Medic's lab.

(Hope you enjoyed. Stay tuned for more and have a good day)

<-Chapter Two

Chapter Four->

[mail-me-a-snail]

(i hope this isn't overstepping in some way but the image came to me and i wanna share so)

clearing my throat

idk if vance would just let anyone dig around in his cyberware and inner workings but i think tiger would be very fascinated by the high tech he's going on in there.. all fancy and packed full with more cyberware most anyone could handle

he may be no ripper or even an expert in netrunning cyberware but you'd have to be a gonkbrain to not recognize the beauty of all this tech

oh no worries you're perfectly fine !! i always love it when people tell me they (or their ocs) wanna dig around in vance's mechanical guts :3

tiger...he's got a soft touch. even with his physical prowess and heft during his and vance's friendly scuffles, there's a gentle side to him. it's cautious; it's especially careful when it comes to machinery.

(gotta be, if you're working on less than preem truck engine's bits and kibble with such big, beaned paws)

trade in a mechanic's tools for a ripper's kit. i think vik would lend tiger his, so long as he brings them back clean.

vance's tattoos conceal the realskinn seams on his torso; even if he had unmarked skin, you'd have a hard time finding the seams just by looking. touch him--gently, of course. notice how goosebumps rise in the wake of your touch. how he watches your every move, not out of fear--but interest.

he's used to being studied; poked; prodded; adjusted.

this soft appraisal...he's not sure how to feel about it yet.

so, keep going; make him forget how to decide.

there's a specific tool in a ripper's kit tiger's gonna need. it's a flat-headed wedge; vik uses to pop open the panels of his patient's cyberware.

wedge it here, in the line where vance's torso ends and his arm socket begins. do the same on the other side. easy now. don't brute force it; it'll open if it's meant to open.

congrats! the front of his torso should pop off now. yes, it should come off--it's gonna look weird. don't think about it too hard.

you have now peeled vance back to the first layer of his machinery.

his biomonitor hums red and organic-like from within his titanium ribcage. his pulmonary implants--which are vaguely lung shaped and black, covered in a white, hexagonal cooling mesh--start rising and falling that much faster.

apart from his mechanical biological necessities, his guts are a mass of thick, red, braided wires; open and occupied ports and free data shard storage units; white biolights blinking almost sleepily; arasaka's name and logo embossed or carved or branded into each individual piece of tech.

if tiger pressed his paw pads against any of those parts, they'd hum, warm, in response.

if tiger ran his fingers up and down the wires that constitute vance's central nervous system, vance would shiver.

the layers of his machinery go two more, up to his spine. tiger would find more wires, lights. vance's cyberdeck, also, a spidery, kitbashed thing comprised of golden microchip lines and little silver messages for arasaka techie eyes only.

he's less than comfortable with people accessing him that deeply, though, so the first layer will have to do for now.

he is a beautiful piece of technology, that much is true. he's top of the line; the be-all-and-end-all of arasaka's dedicated netrunning tech; horrifically unique.

while messing around in there--unplugging shit willy nilly, slotting random shards and cables into his free ports, that sort of thing--is extremely dangerous, a little curiosity would never hurt vance.

if anything' he'd encourage it; he's a big nerd for tech, especially of the netrunning kind. he could go on for hours and hours about efficiency and cyberspace and deep diving (even if he can't do that last one anymore).

if tiger wanted to lean over vance like he was another engine in need of observation, box him in on a ripper's chair, or wherever they're doing this appraisal, if tiger thought his parts beautiful...

keep looking; make him remember how to preen under close examination.

[smallnico]

8 and 9 for the durgetash asks!

https://www.tumblr.com/smallnico/754119650914304000

eyyy thank u for asking! <3 under the cut bc long.

8. Both Gortash and Durge are sadistic little gremlins, so when it comes down to it, who's better at torture? And did they make a competition out of it?

weird thing to say for a durgetash person, but torture squicks me out, so i'm going to make this brief (... brief for me, anyway.)

esper and gortash are never not competing, even when they're actively collaborating, in part because framing the collaboration as competition and manipulation is the only way they can really get away with just working together without invoking the wrath of their patrons (mostly bhaal, since bane actually thinks esper is respectable, even if he chooses not to respect them). so if they ever had cause to "interrogate" someone together, any and all suggestions would be framed as one-upmanship or taunts.

independantly, the point for sadism definitely goes to gortash, since he generally has more of an incentive to make people suffer to get what he wants out of them rather than killing them outright, unlike esper.

esper doesn't actially like the rush of murder dopamine/euphoria that bhaal supplies his faithful with when they kill -- it makes esper feel out of control, and both pre- and post-tadpole acting on the impulse for unspeakable violence without tempering it first makes them feel base and shitty -- so as good as esper is at killing people, they're equally good at not killing people when the situation calls for it. esper is much more detached and efficient, very much a "this is what you do to kill someone. hit everywhere but there and you're good" kind of operator, not averse to sadism but not particularly drawn to it either. but, like i said, they also do have the ability to manipulate emotions and intentions (ratcheting up fear, encouraging calm and compliance, etc.) so they really don't find much need for torture to begin with when they're not having fun + playing working with their friend fellow associate enver gortash.

9. The Steelwatch Foundry. Did they ever visit it together, what was it like? How many people died afterwards and how many of them were banites?

like i said in other answers, the steel watch is gortash's baby, but esper was very involved in bringing the project to fruition. very much mostly by getting the right people dead or replaced by shapechangers, as well as the odd bit of unsolicited political advice and acting as an equally violent sounding board to some of gortash's more unhinged ideas, just making sure he knows what's actually in the realm of doable and practical. heaven knows he needs it.

that said, esper liked to hang out there invisible in the rafters to watch people come and go, as kind of an unofficial shift monitor. occasionally they'd mark someone for death or extortion if they thought the person would be a good target for the bhaalists, but they did promise to avoid killing baneites when it would be inconvenient for gortash for them to do so * -- this as part of the original truce between the temple of bhaal and gortash's cult of bane -- so the number of baneite deaths was pretty low all things considered.

gortash gave esper an official tour of the premesis once, though it was before the factory officially started operating. this would've been after the hell heist, since while the steel watch's organic and psionic operations were part of the design since karlach's engine (it's implied that her engine served as a prototype steel watcher engine, and my headcanon is that gortash sold her to zariel through the same connection he uses to get infernal metal in exchange for having the designs and test results shared with him) the design didn't get to the point it's at in the game until gortash could put into practice the whole tadpoling a brain/body in the machine/controlling the brain with psionics from a distance idea that makes the whole thing work. that little private tour was the moment esper knew they'd really fucked up everything when they finally made out with gortash during the hell heist and truly initiated the downward spiral that led to orin 'killing' them.

*this didn't apply to trespassers on or near temple grounds, or the guards gortash stationed outside particular entry points to his offices, who he put there Because they'd been bothering him because esper would tend to kill them on the way in if they tried to stop them from entering.

[seriously-mike]

Someone posted this screenshot from Twitter on Threads, and Jesus fucking Christ, I am terrified.

Anjney Midha is an AI investor and executive (who, entirely by the way, called out the alarmist bullshit guiding the current AI policy making in California), and what he said explains a lot. The fact that AI data models are full of useless shit is one thing. Another thing is, 90% of AI users can't write a coherent prompt for shit. Artificial Intelligence or what the fuckwits from marketing hopped on Horse K are pushing under that label is not going to work for people who lack their own actual one.

I've seen image generator data models with input image descriptions that used imageboard tags instead of natural language, because those lazy fucks compiling them couldn't be arsed to sit down and actually describe every one, instead just ripping the list of tags off the board along with the image itself. Meaning that chuds with all the eloquence of a rotten turnip could use those models efficiently, to generate stuff that is typically posted on imageboards (hint: it's porn.), and at the same time everyone actually able to communicate was being put at a disadvantage.

I wrote a couple of posts about prompts for image generators and how they're not rocket science or anything copyrightable. I also quoted Midjourney lead engineer David Holtz debunking the raindances and prayers bullshit so ingrained into the minds of AI users that some of them still insist it works despite all evidence to the contrary.

And here comes Anjney Midha, saying that not only the overly verbose purple prose I've seen in some prompts is an actual rarity, most of the users just fucking copy whatever they've seen used by other people before, because they can't even fucking formulate one coherent sentence. They aren't just illiterate, they're also unimaginative and actively ignorant, refusing to just sit on their stupid asses and read up on anything. Even if they don't use AI at all, the best they can do is aping trends pitched by about ten different people per language.

Imagine that when I asked some people in AI image generation groups on Facebook whether they mentioned the names of particular artists in their prompts (after I played with the concept myself), they had no idea who I was talking about. As in, they didn't want an early 19th century painting, it just came out like that because of other keywords. But since I've also seen people posting questions that sound like prompts in those very groups instead of running them through an actual generator, it just confirmed my opinion that the majority of AI users has no fucking clue what they're doing, and how.

I'm also noticing that the trend of "AI-generated music" lost its momentum as well. Why? Well, how about requiring even more actual intelligence and skill at using language in certain ways than image generators? AI-generated songs that worked had obviously human-written lyrics. People were making sure that the stuff rhymed and maintained some kind of meter, something that the current Large Language Models can't do. AI-generated instrumentals are even more of a hit-or-miss than songs with synthesized vocals, because at least with the vocals the poetic meter influences the musical meter. Unless the generator shits itself in a spectacularly disastrous way, lyrics with a specific rhythm will result in a viable song - for example, majority of the Tears for Fears parody needed only one run per 30-second fragment, which is quite a feat considering that I started it from the chorus, generating the rest in both directions.

The whole situation is, to be entirely honest, Ray Bradbury's nightmare come to life. Not that Bradbury's take on "people not interested in reading books" wasn't idiotically overengineered to the point of being misunderstood as something completely different and shockingly more obvious going backwards from the description, but we're seeing technology that requires literacy being peddled to a generation that is, by and large, fucking illiterate. No, they're not "visual". They're fucking illiterate and we have the previous generations to thank for that. The literary circle-jerk promotes belligerent imbecilic hacks who can't even use Google properly, required reading curricula for school are being jerked around by out-of-touch groups of book-burners, pearl-clutchers and stodgy antiquarians, genre fiction is still looked down upon despite being the most likely thing young people are going to read, writers gleefully shit all over their legacy in order to regain long-lost relevance, and the publishers push any flashy garbage in hopes that movie studios buy the rights to make an adaptation. How can anyone be motivated to read in this kind of landscape? Much less, how can anyone be motivated to write when PR, marketing and sales of books are more important than actually writing them? We have unscrupulous people stitch together passages generated by LLMs without any proofreading or editing and selling them as e-books or print-on-demand publications for that exact fucking reason. Nobody gives a shit what's inside (not even if it's a guide on mushrooms and wild plants that's supposed to tell you which ones are poisonous), the marketing tactics are more crooked than a New York Republican (or any metropolitan conservative, if you will), and the main goal is to flog it to as many suckers as possible before enough people call bullshit on the whole enterprise.

[icefirestorm]

His Final Gift

His Final Gift

                The building heat of the Krang laser weapon overpowered Casey’s fading cry and took over Leo’s already strained senses. Despite the pain, fear, and overwhelming guilt; he was relieved. It was almost over. He was done fighting, he had nothing left to lose, so he could finally just stop and let things end. And as the laser began to burn his dried-out scales, the recoil of Mikey’s portal blasted him into blessed unconsciousness.

                “Ok, I think that’s it. Torres to Bridge, we’re ready down here Captain.”

                “Acknowledged Lieutenant, begin the test.”

                B’elanna braced one hand on the top of the console while entering commands with her other. “Initiating warp field test. Engines are disengaged and powering up. Seven?”

                Straight backed across the aisle, the former drone answered, “Artificial dilithium is holding. Matter/anti-matter flow is stable.”

                “Alright, let’s kick it into warp.” The engineer carefully watched the screen as a warp field formed around their stationary vessel. “The field seems stable too. How’s the dilithium now?”

                Seven checked her readings again. “Still holding. Flow remains unchanged. There does seem to be a 12.4% reduction in efficiency from natural dilithium.”

                B’elanna shrugged a shoulder. “I mean, obviously we’d like it to be better, but if we run out of natural dilithium at least we’d still be able to keep moving at a decent clip until we can get more.” One more check of the field and, “Ok let’s see if the matrix can handle a greater flow. Simulate warp 2?”

                “Agreed. Increasing flow rate by 5%.” The gentle light of the warp core stuttered, and along with it every heart in Engineering.

                “What was that?!” B’elanna demanded while checking over her own readouts. “The warp field is still stable!”

                “As is the dilithium matrix and matter flow. I see no cause for any irregularity.” Seven replied while double and triple checking all information at her disposal. “I recommend a shut down and full diagnostic.”

                “Shutting down!” the hybrid cried above the alarms that started ringing out across the two-storey department, only for the core to flutter again. But this time it shook the ship.

                “B’elanna?! What’s going on down there?!” Chakotay bellowed over comms.

                “No time!” She yelled back. “Seven what are you seeing?”

                “The flow is shut down but fluctuations are continuing to occur.” This time all lights in Engineering flickered along with the core.

                “How? There’s nothing left in the chamber! … Maybe there’s a residual charge in the EPS conduits. Vorik! Mulcahey! Lock them down!” In the same moment that the two moved to comply a bright light flashed in front of the core ejecting a mass across the room and into the Engineering doors.

                Finally, everything shut down. Disconcertingly, this included the lights. “Everyone ok?!” B’elanna hollered out to her team. A round of assurances came back to her as the lighting gradually righted itself. While she made sure her section was back up and running, Seven pulled a tricorder and cautiously strode to the steaming lump that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

                She dodged a few personnel frantically running about doing system checks and knelt next to what she now knew to be a life form. Crouching next to it, Seven reached out with the tricorder and ran it down the supine form while keeping a careful eye in case it chose to attack. Past the tattered, deep blue wrap, she could see blistered, light green scales. Reptile, humanoid, male, at least post-industrial level of development, prosthetic arm. And holding a sword?  The readings from her tricorder had her hitting her combadge. “Seven to Doctor, requesting emergency medical transport. An unknown lifeform has entered Engineering, it appears injured and its life signs are fading.”

                “Acknowledged. Transporting two to Sickbay.” The Doctor’s response was her only warning before the world dissolved around her. Once new surroundings had resolved, Seven stood out of the way taking the visitor’s weapon, while the Doctor descended with his medical tricorder adding to information Seven had already collected for him in the main computer. “First and second degree burns over 30% of his body, no spinal trauma, he’s in neural shock; Seven help me lift him to the biobed.” The two quickly heaved their visitor.

                They had just noticed a deep gash across his stomach when the doors opened to let Tom Paris sweep in and take Seven’s place assisting the Doctor. “What do we have Doc?”

                The hologram grabbed a couple hyposprays as he answered. “Reptilian humanoid, appears to be male. Burns, neural shock, multiple contusions and lacerations, particularly one across the lower torso. Address that while I attempt to stabilize his neurological functions.” Tom nodded and grabbed an autosuture to begin closing the largest wound from inside out, cleaning the area with a handheld sterifield generator as he went.

                “Seven.” The Doctor barked, “Grab 4 units of the iron-based blood replacer and get an infusion unit running.” The purple clad drone dashed off into sickbay supply for the requested equipment, depositing the metal weapon on sickbay’s central console as she went. Pulling off the patient’s mask, the Doctor attached neural stimulators to his temples then started pulling the thick wrap up over his patient’s head, sliding it out from under broad shoulders revealing an intricate shell. “Mr Paris revise from reptilian to terrapin-like?”

                “Makes sense,” the blond replied, “I’m working with some sort of organic armour here. It’s got a consistency somewhere between cartilage and bone. Actually, I’m not sure the dermal regenerator will work on this Doc, should I use the osteo-regen?”

                As Seven returned, and began hooking up the infuser, the hologram considered for a moment. “Put a sealant patch over it for now, I don’t want to stress his system any more than it already is.” Checking the readings of his own task, he side eyed the large mechanical bulk of his patient’s prosthetic. “Seven, could you address that now? Given the state of our friend here, I’d rather not find out that that thing about to short out or something while it’s still attached.”

She had just discovered a buckling attaching mechanism to person when the doors opened again, admitting the Captain and Lieutenant Tuvok. Bracing against the central console, Janeway did her best to get a look at their potential stowaway. “Report Doctor.”

                “A little busy at the moment Captain. Our new friend here is in bad shape and I’m making a lot of guesses in his treatment. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can, but we really need to concentrate right now.”

                There was a time and a place for a Captain to get out of the way and Katherine new this was one of those times. “Very well Doctor, report to me once you can. In the meantime,” she turned to her old friend, “Tuvok, post a guard just in case. I hope we’re about to make a new friend, but, “she ran a finger down the abused weapon laid out in front of her,” past experience demands caution. “

                “Understood Captain.”

                The rich smell of fresh coffee filled the air as most of Voyager’s senior staff settled into their customary positions around the briefing room table. Morning staff meetings might cut into normal work time, but they carried the added benefit of access to Captain Janeway’s favourite blend without having to use one’s own precious replicator rations.

                Janeway took one last deep drink from her mug then called the meeting to order. “Alright, I know there’s one big elephant in the room but let’s get necessities out of the way first. Be’lanna, what’s the status of the warp core?”

                The younger woman replied. “Fine. Absolutely fine. All diagnostics have come back perfectly normal.” Gesturing to the fan of pads on the table in front of her. “Whatever happened, I’m 99% sure it wasn’t caused by our test because everything on our end is, again, fine. Actually, I recommend we resume testing immediately. Our readings up until everything went sideways were fantastic. The artificial dilithium wasn’t as efficient as the real thing, but it was working.”

                The Captain spun her mug a bit. “Good to hear. Permission granted.” She leaned back in her chair. “So, if the source of the fluctuations wasn’t inside the ship, was it outside? Harry?” Everyone turned to their operations officer, but he was already shaking his head. “Not that I could find Captain. There were no anomalies, wormholes or any other phenomena I could detect in our vicinity that would even remotely result in what happened.”

                Chakotay spoke up with a thoughtful look. “If the cause wasn’t on Voyager or around us, it must have been wherever our guest came from. Speaking of … Doctor?” intelligent dark eyes shifted focus to the wall display and the hologram that had stayed with his patient. “How is our guest? Have you learned anything from him?”

                “A few things, for one, wherever he came from, it’s not a very nice place. There’s evidence of multiple serious injuries that were sustained over an extended period of time, likely many years.” A display popped up next to the Doctor’s face, highlighting his statements. “The patient shows signs of malnutrition in the form of weakened bones, gums and teeth. It really gets interesting though at the genetic level.” The display switched to a DNA strand. “Our reptilian friend is half human.”

                That made everyone but Seven and Harry jolt in their seats. Tom piped up, “Human? So he’s the child of a human and some unknown species?” The Doctor was already shaking his head. “No, his other parent species is known to the Federation. It is trachemys scripta elegans, or in layman’s terms, the red eared slider; a common species of terran turtle.” A picture of the little creature helpfully appeared next. The Doctor did love his slides.

                Be’lanna looked disturbed. “Well, no matter how that happened, that’s just all kinds of illegal.”

                “And creepy.” Her boyfriend chimed in.

                Even Tuvok shifted uneasily. “Indeed.”

                The Doctor plowed on, warming to his topic. “Obviously, some manner of genetic engineering was involved; but I haven’t been able to find a sign of any form known to Federation science. And whomever made him was an absolute genius. It’s difficult enough to successfully pair the DNA of two similar species; here we not only have a humanoid and non-humanoid species, but also one is reptilian and non-sentient. And in our friend the two seem to not only be in perfect balance but are far more robust than either parent species. It’s quite remarkable.”

                “So,” Janeway interrupted, “This man is the product of two species native to Earth and an unidentified method of genetic engineering. Do we have anything else that might tell us about where he’s from? The prosthetic arm, his weapon?”

                “His prosthetic was manufactured using pre-warp technology, though the design is efficient. I am currently repairing the overload damage.” Seven contributed. “His sword is unremarkable aside from traces of an unidentified alien DNA on the blade.”

                “Unidentified?” Chakotay asked, angling his chair back to the blonde across from him. “Not even the Borg have a record of them?”

                A terse “No.” was his response. Seven never had cultivated a liking for mysteries.

                Harry took mercy on her. “Since he’s from Earth, but everything about him just isn’t consistent with OUR Earth, Seven and I dug a little deeper and checked his quantum signature. It doesn’t match us. He’s from another universe.”

                Janeway blinked a few times. “Well, that would certainly explain some things, he may be entirely normal on his version of Earth.” She said, gesturing toward the display of their new passenger. The brunette then stared into her coffee for a moment, thinking. “Alright. Seven, continue repairs to his prosthetic, I’m sure he’d like it back when he wakes up. Harry, look into ways to send him home, if possible. Chakotay, Tuvok, Doctor, could you remain a moment please? Everyone else, dismissed.”

                As most of the senior staff filed out, Katherine stood and walked to get a better look at what scant information they’d gathered on their mystery guest. For a moment, she pondered the way his animal markings had carried over. “Doctor, what is his current status and your plans for treatment?”

                “Well, the neural trauma could have been from crossing the dimensional barrier, or from whatever caused his burns I’m not sure. That’s really all that’s keeping him under right now, but I believe he should wake up sometime today; full recovery from that may take a week or so yet. The burns we were able to address with the dermal regenerator. He also had lost a great deal of blood when he arrived, primarily from a large wound in his lower torso. Honestly, without his natural armour, I believe he would have been disembowelled.” All three organics winced at the idea.

The Doctor swivelled in his chair a bit. “The malnutrition should be easy enough to resolve with time and a good nutrition plan. I’ve already addressed the resulting dental issues and cleaned up his shell a bit. Some physiotherapy would also likely benefit his weakened bones. All in all, I don’t see any reason why he couldn’t make a complete physical recovery.”

“And he’s not some derivative of the eugenics augments?”

He shook his head again. “No Captain, there’s no signs of the old earth genetic augmentation techniques.”

“Thank you, Doctor. Let me know when he wakes up. Janeway out.”  She turned back to her remaining officers, hands on hips. “Well gentlemen, thoughts?”

Chakotay spoke first, “Given that he should recover, obviously it would be easiest for us if Harry found a way to send him home and he chose to go back. But with the condition he was in when he arrived, he might not want to.”

“And that may not be an option in the end after all, in which case his only options become stay on Voyager or disembark at some point.” Tuvok added. “If he proves to be, unsuitable, to remain on board, we may need to make that decision for him. In any case, I would not recommend returning his weapon until we are sure he can be trusted.”

“I’m not sure that’d be a good idea.” The larger man replied, “I saw the hilt, there were a couple of eye masks, like his but of different colours, woven into the grip.” He turned to Janeway, “It’s likely a memorial of some kind. In the maquis, we’d take tokens from fallen friends to carry on us. Maybe we could put a locking sheath on the blade, and explain that we’ll remove the lock once we know he’s not a security threat?”

“So instead of a sword, he will be armed with a club?” Tuvok raised a sceptical eyebrow.

Janeway smirked with a little huff. “True. Still, Chakotay has a point, if the sword does have a memorial to lost loved ones built into it, keeping it from him is a sure way to generate animosity; and showing him some consideration, while taking reasonable measures, is a good way to build his trust in us.” She sat back down at the table. “We’ll implement the locking sheath, but we’ll also keep a guard on him for awhile. Chakotay, let’s give Icheb a project in astrometrics. Have him look for Class M worlds, preferably inhabited, where our guest can disembark if we need to part ways with him. Thank you.” She nodded in dismissal, but only Tuvok got up and left the room.

The woman quirked an eyebrow at Chakotay while drinking her coffee. “Yes?”

He smiled back at her. “Another stray?”

“We do have a habit of picking those up, don’t we?” She replied, swirling her remaining coffee around a little. “If he does decide to stay, the crew isn’t at full strength so we have resources, and the room, especially since people have started pairing off.” They shared a grin. “All we can do right now though, is wait and see.”

The subtle soothing vibration of Voyager’s engines was a gentle background thrum as Janeway did her best to plow through another status report on ship’s stores, consumption rates and estimated dates they would need to be replenished. A report on potential worlds ahead to stock up was waiting for her next. I wonder if I could get Be’lanna to install a massage function in my chair …. And how disappointed her look would be if I asked.

“Sickbay to Bridge.”

The two commanding officers exchanged a glance. “Go ahead Doctor.”

“Captain, our guest is waking up.”

She rose and headed for the turbolift. “Understood. Chakotay, you have the Bridge. Tuvok, with me.” Katherine turned and faced the closing doors. Show time.

It didn’t take long to make the all-too familiar journey to Sickbay. The doors swished open to the Doctor looking up from where he was leaning over their restless reptile. His red-striped eyes were screwed up while soft pants escaped from his slightly open mouth.

Janeway left Tuvok behind to consult with the young bajoran security guard and walked to where the stranger would be able to see her easily once he fully surfaced.

Minutes passed. He continued to fight against the lingering neural pain and eventually won. Deep blue eyes, like the edge of sunlight in the ocean, blinked rapidly, slowly adjusting to the Sickbay lights. The moment he locked onto her face, deep confusion spread across his features. She did her best to present a kind, welcoming smile.

“My name is Captain Katherine Janeway. You’re onboard the Federation Starship, Voyager. Do you understand me?”

Bewildered eyes widened but he gave her a tiny nod. Janeway placed a hand next to his shoulder on the bed. “You appeared in our Engine Room with a flash of light during an engine test. You were badly injured, so we brought you to our Sickbay for treatment. Your prosthetic is currently being repaired, and your sword,” she gestured to the weapon leaning against the wall in its new sheath, “is right here.” Catching his eye again, she asked, “Can you tell me your name?”

He licked his lips, and after a false start when his voice caught, replied, “Leonardo Hamato.”

Katherine gave Leonardo another encouraging smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr Hamato. As I said, you’re onboard our ship, Voyager. Our Doctor believes that, with time, you’ll fully recover from your injuries.” Once she saw that information had sunk in, the brunette continued, “In our investigation, we determined that the flash of light in Engineering was you crossing a dimensional barrier between your universe and ours. Do you know how that might have happened? It could help us get you back home.”

“Another universe?” he seemed to understand the possibility, if be a little incredulous at it actually happening. “Have you ever heard of the Krang?” Leonardo asked her hoarsely.

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, I haven’t.”

He huffed a disbelieving little laugh. “Definitely another universe.” The reptile took a minute to collect his thoughts. “The Krang came to our Earth about twenty years ago and started just …. consuming, everything. There were only three of them to begin with, and this big ship of theirs, but whatever they didn’t kill they would make like them.”

Janeway restrained herself from mentioning the Borg and listened carefully as he took a breath to continue.

“Yokai, mutant, human; it didn’t matter. They gradually whittled us all down to nothing. We fought back, but the resistance eventually fell. My brother, Mikey, made a time portal, ….. I guarded it while Casey went through to the past.” As her face erupted in alarm he hastened, “I know. Messing with time, major no-no, but…” His nearly black eyes begged her to understand, “There was nothing left Captain. Nothing but Krang. We had nothing left to lose. Casey went back to stop the invasion before it began.“ His hand locked onto her arm. “Almost nine billion lives Captain. Isn’t that worth the risk?”

“Well, considering I’ve risked it for less..” he laughed a little at her sardonic reply. This time she actually put her hand on his shoulder. “What happened next? While you were standing guard?”

A full body shudder ran through the man. “The Krang attacked. I was already wounded, Mikey was ….. gone and Casey was on his way. I fought off a couple hounds, then I felt a Krang weapon firing on me. They’re like some kinda super laser thing.” An energy weapon. That would explain the burns. “I heard the portal closing behind me then, nothing.”

“Maybe the combination of the portal and the weapon is what sent you through?”

“Maybe.” He let go of her and settled back into the biobed. “Maybe.”

                She looked around to meet Tuvok’s grim expression, then returned to their passenger. “You said there was nothing left, is there any point in us continuing to look for a way to send you home?”

                Leonardo shook his head regretfully, “There isn’t anything to go back to, except a planet full of Krang zombies.” He hitched himself up a bit. “I appreciate your help. I don’t want to be in the way so….“ Nerves raced across his face. “If you could just drop me off somewhere safe, I’m sure I can figure something out.”

                Now her hand was on his chest to push him back down. “There’s no rush Mr Hamato. Nothing needs to be decided until you’re well again. If you wish to disembark, we can certainly do that. For now, just rest and recover. Then we can explain some things about this universe so that you can make an informed decision. In the meantime, I’d just like to apologize for the lock on your sword and the guard.” She gestured to the woman watching carefully from the doors. “Please understand, we don’t know anything about you and need to take ship’s security into account.”

                After his eyes finished following her hand, he nodded in assent. “Makes sense. Hope I can earn your trust soon. And Leo will do Captain.”

                She smiled again. “Well then. I’ll leave you to the Doctor. Welcome aboard Voyager, Leo.” Janeway stepped back, collected Tuvok and left. Once back in the hall she turned to her oldest friend. “Thoughts?”

                Tuvok pondered for a moment. “He seems sincere, but such a brief conversation is hardly enough to make a proper evaluation.”

                “You’re right, but if he is telling the truth,” she sighed and looked to the ceiling, “I can’t even imagine what he’s been through.”

Leo dragged his eyes from the doors where the Captain had just left to the bald man approaching on his right. “I’m guessing you’re the Doctor?” The man smiled.

                “Indeed I am. Pleased to finally meet you Mr Hamato.”

                The slider wrinkled his snout. “I never really went by Mister. Leo is fine, Doctor….?” He trailed off, fishing for the man’s name.

                “Just Doctor for now. I haven’t picked a name yet.”

                That drew Leo up short for a moment, blinking through his headache. “Picked a name? Is that a thing in this universe?”

                The Doctor smirked while waving a small whirring piece of metal over Leonardo, staring at the thing in his hand. “In some cultures, yes. But in my case it’s a matter of being an artificial lifeform that only recently became sapient, so I can pick my own name. I’m just having trouble finding one that “fits”.”

                And I thought my head hurt before. “Artificial lifeform?”

                That garnered a little wink. “Yes. I started out as an emergency medical hologram. A highly advanced stand in Doctor if you will. But after being online for an unusual amount of time, my experiences and interaction with the crew had the unexpected effect of expanding my program to the point that I began to develop my own, thoughts and feelings on matters.” A final read of the thing in his hand and the Doctor folded it closed to focus more on their conversation. “I have now been officially recognized as an artificial lifeform. A full Federation citizen with all the rights thereof, and in my capacity as Chief Medical Officer of this Starfleet vessel, I am happy to inform you that your condition is improving even faster than expected.”

Leo twirled a finger in the air. “Yay. My head hurts …. and everything else too.”

                “That would be the residual neural trauma. Would you like an analgesic?”

                Three fingered hand picking at the bed underneath him, “Yes please. Will it make me sleep?”

                The Doctor paused in selecting a drug from the table next to him. “I can give you a non-drowsy medication if you would prefer.”

                “No,” Leo replied, “all I really want right now is to sleep.”

                “I can certainly help you with that.”

                This time when Leonardo slowly crawled his way back to consciousness, he felt much more present. The lights being turned way down didn’t hurt either. So, with no one else in sight, he decided to take stock for a moment. The ever-present full body ache that the Doctor attributed to neural trauma, still lingered, but was much better. Running his hand down to his lower plastron, he could feel some sort of bandaging over the gut wound that’d been slowly killing him in their mad dash up the hill.

                Casey. Knowing that he’d never see his adoptive son again was digging a hole in his heart. He’s safe. He’s safe now. They’ll fix it and he’ll have the life he always deserved. This was the only thing that’d been keeping him fighting after the Krang found their last hiding place. For awhile now, the resistance leadership had known that they couldn’t win. They just didn’t have the resources to beat the Krang back, if they’d ever been able. Since then, Leo’d just been desperately trying to figure out a way to at least save his family. In the end, all he and his brother could do was make a last-ditch effort at giving Casey a future, and maybe just maybe, save everyone else too. Mikey…..

                Grief was an old, unwelcome companion after decades of constant loss, but Mikey; Mike had always been there. From the beginning of their crazy lives, through losing Dad, Raph, Donnie and everyone else, one by one, Mikey’d been Leo’s oldest, dearest friend in the end. And now he was gone.

                What did you do Mike? A yellow flash? He had no other evidence, but Leon was absolutely certain that Michelangelo had done something to save his stupid big brother’s life. I was ready Mike. I’m tired. Why can’t you let me lie? He’d struggled with the urge to just lay down and die a few times over the years, how could he not? But a few things had held him back; mostly he wouldn’t even consider abandoning the people he had left. There was also the burning need to try and make things right, to fix his catastrophic mistake.

                Those weren’t really issues here and now, but one old concern still kept him firmly convinced he couldn’t end it himself. He didn’t know what would become of him if he did. Years ago, a close encounter with one of the original Krang had ended with Leo being stripped of his powers, and with them, his connection to the Hamato Clan. Mikey’d always tried to reassure him that he was still every inch a Hamato, that he had nothing to worry about, but Leo wasn’t so sure; and frankly he was too much of a coward to find out.

                Now there was also the additional weight of Mikey clearly making a final effort to save him. He couldn’t just throw away Mikey’s last gift, Leonardo’s own life. Guess I’ll have to make the best of it and hopefully, when the time comes, I’ll be good enough to pass muster. As if he could ever make up for setting off the obliteration of an entire planet’s population.

                Casting his eyes to the side, and finding neither was swollen anymore, he spotted his sword. A scuffed old blade that April’d found while hiding in a bombed-out museum. He could still see her beaming as she brought it out from behind her back, hair freshly shaved from getting stiches on the crown of her head. It’d been surprisingly sturdy, and a good replacement for his lost katanas. Staring at the hilt with red and purple masks woven together, he noted that he’d have to get himself some orange fabric to work into it as well. Silent tears ran down to his left temple as he felt a rush of gratitude to the Captain for letting him keep it near, even if they did put some funky locking sheath on it.

                “Leonardo?” The Doctor’s voice had the weepy turtle hastily wiping away his tears, Ow, as the AI came around the corner.

                “Yeah Doc?” he answered, satisfied that the words came out even, unwavering.

                “Do you need anything?” Actually.

                “Could I get some water?”

                “Of course.” He ducked back out of the room, then after a minute, and some weird shimmery sound, came back in with a big glass of the cleanest water Leonardo had seen in years. The turtle couldn’t take his eyes off it as the Doctor set the clear vessel on a side table, raised the head of his bed and then finally handed the glass over. It took every ounce of Leo’s restraint to drink slowly, making sure his stomach was willing to keep the cold, fresh liquid.

                Laying back, the slider revelled in feeling ice water flowing down his throat. Regretfully finishing the glass, he passed it back to his carer. “Thanks. Is it night time?”

                “No, ship’s night ended about three hours ago,” the Doctor said, checking a panel on the side of Leo’s bed. “But you were sleeping so well that I didn’t want to risk waking you up.” Apparently satisfied with whatever he read, the artificial man looked up with a smile. “How is that water settling? Stomach fine?”

                “Yeah, Doc. Honestly at this point, it would take a lot to upset my stomach.”

                The Doctor’s smile widened. “Well in that case, would you feel up to a short walk and a shower? There’s a seat in the sickbay unit.”

                A shower. An actual shower. Not some polluted tunnel stream. Not the edge of a frigid ocean. Not a damp rag. An actual flowing, clean water shower? “Doc, I would kill for a shower, I’ll crawl if I have to.” The Doctor laughed a little and started to help his patient up to his feet. “No theatrics required Leo. Let’s just take it easy though. You’ve been through serious trauma, and I would imagine you’ll be a little off balance without your prosthetic.”

                “Wouldn’t be the first time Doc.”

                Ever so carefully, the two maneuvered Leo’s legs over the edge of the biobed. Once his feet met blue carpet, the Doctor slid under a green arm and helped his patient upright. After a moment to acclimate to carrying most of his own weight again, they began slowly walking; the Doctor taking the lead. Two rooms later, they entered what Leo was actually surprised to recognize as a washroom. Though I suppose there’s really only so many ways you can lay one out.

                Figuring they may as well be efficient, the Doctor first helped Leo over to the toilet. One startling introduction to its built-in sonic cleaning feature later, the hologram was helping Leonardo to fully disrobe and sit on the wide shower bench. “Oh. Just a second.” Leon was left a little bewildered as the Doctor abruptly left. He wasn’t alone long though before his carer bustled back in and applied a water-proof adhesive patch over the electronic coupling for his prosthetic.

                Given his reaction to the sonic cleaning, they’d decided that his terrapin tremor sense wouldn’t tolerate a full sonic shower, so Leo was getting the warm water he craved. Picking at a few dry scales, he watched while the Doctor switched the shower unit from sonic to water mode, remarking that if his patient stayed on board, they would have to get him quarters with a bathtub.

                “Ready?”

                Leon grinned a little. “Let’er rip Doc.”

                With a low chuckle, the bald pseudo man turned on the flow, instantly warm, and handed over a bottle of body wash that most humans on board preferred. They spent the next few minutes tag teaming the job of scrubbing off ages of grime. The Doctor scoured his shell with a brush while Leo attacked the rest of his battered form. Gradually the water at their feet went from nearly black to progressively lighter shades of grey.

                Leonardo’s curiosity finally asserted itself. “So, what’s this Federation that you guys keep mentioning?” All he could see of the Doctor now was one of the man’s booted feet, water just running off his artificial form. “The United Federation of Planets.” A geeky thrill ran through the reptile as he listened while enjoying his shell scrub. “Founded in the Earth year 2161 by four worlds, of which Earth was one. It is now comprised of over one hundred fifty worlds spanning eight thousand light years of space in what we call the Alpha Quadrant of the Milky Way Galaxy.”

                “Ok,” he processed for a moment, “what would be the current ‘Earth year’?”

                “2377 AD.”

                333 years. I wonder where we would’ve been by now if the Krang’d never showed up? “That’s about 300 years ahead of my time.  … In my world, I mean.” The scrubbing sensation paused for a second, “In that case, welcome to the 24th century Leonardo.” The scrubbing resumed in wide, soothing circles.  More questions bubbled in Leo’s mind. “So, when you say worlds…?”

                “Inhabited planets, moons, the occasional space station. There’s even a couple nomadic species that live on board generational ships. Most worlds have one native sapient species; some more. Quite a few worlds are colonies that have grown to the point where they stand on their own. All of them have reached a certain point of technological and social development, then agreed to abide by the Federation Charter, in addition to their own local laws.” He moved on to Leo’s arm and left side where the turtle couldn’t reach himself. “Member worlds still govern themselves and their own surrounding space. They send representatives to the Federation Council and in turn the Federation governs matters that effect multiple member worlds. Starfleet is the Federation’s means of action; exploration, defence, disaster relief and the like.”

                At last, clear water was running into the drain between Leo’s feet. “So, this is a Starfleet ship?”

                Turning off the shower, the Doctor grabbed a couple towels, handing one over. “Yes. Voyager is an Intrepid class vessel, originally designed for long-range scientific exploration.”

                “Originally?” Leon asked, doing his best to get the towel into where plastron met scales.

                “Ah. Yes. Voyager’s situation is somewhat unique. How about we get you settled and then I’ll explain further.” They finished getting him dried off, then into a sickbay gown, “I’ll send your things to be cleaned,” and began shuffling out to the farthest recovery bed from the sickbay doors.

                Blankets over Leo’s legs, the Doctor dashed off again, this time to grab a mug of light soup. Leo fought an urge to chuckle as he wrapped his hand around the steaming hot offering. “You were saying about Voyager’s situation?” he prompted before blowing across the surface of his breakfast.

                The Doctor sighed a bit and perched on the edge of the next bed over. “Yes. Currently we are well outside Federation territory. About twenty-three thousand light years actually.”

                “That doesn’t tell me much.” Leo replied between sips.

                The Doctor smiled sadly, “At our top speed, non-stop, without help, it will take Voyager approximately twenty-four years to reach Earth.”

                The slider stopped drinking. “Uhhhh….. you weren’t kidding when you said long-range exploration.”

                “It’s a very long story,” the EMH hiked himself a little further back on the mattress, “in a nutshell Voyager and another vessel were pulled across the galaxy by an alien far more advanced than us. He was looking for something; grabbing starships and testing their crews for it. Unfortunately, he was operating out of the Delta Quadrant, approximately seventy thousand light years from Earth.” Leo’s dark eyes widened, calculating based on the ETA the Doctor had given him. “Going that far in a few minutes was devastating for both ships. A significant portion of each crew was killed. A few more were lost to the alien’s testing process. In the end he didn’t have the time, energy or really inclination to send us back. The other ship was destroyed in battle with some native hostiles, and their surviving crew joined Voyager. We’ve been making our way home ever since.”

                “You’ve been travelling for fifty-one years?” he was having trouble processing that, but the Doctor was already shaking his head. “No, only about seven years. We’ve found shortcuts, hitched a ride with a more advanced species now and then, even been able to temporarily connect faster alien propulsion systems to our own. We’re always on the lookout for ways to shorten our travel time.”

                Leon’s estimation of the Captain and crew went up several notches. “Well, if you keep going at this rate, you might get home in a year or two.” He took another sip of his broth. “That’s certainly always our hope. We’ve done fairly well for ourselves all told,” the Doctor replied.

                No kidding. Shaking his head, Leonardo continued working his way through the mug of mildly herbed soup, savouring the flavours. When he reached the bottom, he handed it back to the waiting Doctor. “Thanks, that was delicious.”

                “The Paris family chicken soup never fails.” The Doctor called back, as he carried it to…. somewhere. Between the soothing scrub, a full belly and his own lingering exhaustion, Leo slipped into sleep, before the Doctor could return.

                It seemed like no time before he roused again to the sound of voices in the Doctor’s office area just next door. Opening his eyes, squinting against the lights at full brightness, Leo leaned up a bit to see the hologram talking to a blonde woman in a purple CATSUIT? Not what I was expecting with all the uniforms so far.

                It didn’t take the two long to notice him trying to sit up though and when they turned, he could see metal attached to her face. The locals exchanged a look and as the Doctor walked over, his patient focused on the woman that was now heaving up his arm, carrying the huge metal construct with no trouble at all. Ok, she can’t be human. “Leo, glad to see you awake. Seven here has finished repairing your prosthetic.”

                After the Doctor helped him finish sitting up, Leon held out the hand she wasn’t already holding to the blonde. “Seven?” She set his arm on the foot of his bed and reciprocated the handshake. “Seven of Nine.”            

                Leo cocked his head. “Seven of Nine what?”

                The Doctor smirked from where he was inspecting the mounting mechanism in Leo’s arm and glanced up at her. “It is my Borg designation from when I was part of the collective,” she began ignoring the Doctor’s side eye. “In full I was Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix 01.” Leo blinked a few times. “Ok well … I have no idea what you just said. Sorry.”

                One side of the woman’s mouth quirked ever so slightly. “I do not believe this is the most opportune time the explain the Borg collective in detail, suffice to say that I am a human cyborg.” She placed a hand back on the massive arm resting against his feet. “Your prosthetic is repaired. The internal wiring and some circuitry had been overloaded by an energy discharge. Are you ready to have it reattached?”

                “Yes please.”

                With Leo’s practiced hand joining in, it was a matter of minutes to essentially plug and play the complicated armature. “For the materials available, it is a remarkable piece of engineering.” Seven commented, watching as Leo ran through a series of motions to make sure it was functioning properly. “Yeah. My twin, Donnie, made it for me.” He said, running his living hand down the spiky metal. “Well,” the Doctor interjected over the building sorrow, “even better then that it was repairable. I was thinking Leo, you’ve been asleep most of the day, would you like something to eat now?”

                Leonardo grabbed the offered lifeline with both, ha, hands. “I could eat. More of that chicken soup?”

                “Actually I was wondering what was on offer in the mess hall today. Seven?”

                She looked up as she pondered the question. “I believe Neelix said he would be serving vegetable stew.” Crossing her hands behind her back, she continued, “The artificial dilithium tests will be resuming in the morning, I must review the data from our previous test before regenerating.”

                “Thank you Seven. Pleasant dreams.” The Doctor answered, and she swiftly exited Sickbay. The hologram turned back to Leo. “I know Seven’s a little abrupt but she’s really very kind.” Just like Donnie. “Well, if your arm feels good, would you like me to call down to the Mess Hall for a meal?”

                “Uh sure. Could, .. could I get some more water?”

                The Doctor smiled again. “Of course. In fact, if you feel up to it, I’ll show you how you can get it for yourself.” Thus followed the introductory course to replicators and making glasses of water appear out of thin air with technology. He could practically hear Donnie crowing and pointing his hands at Mikey yelling “In your face! Science for the win!” Cool glass steadied in TWO hands; he made his way back to bed much more smoothly than the last time.

                Not long after he finished the glass of liquid nirvana, the Sickbay doors opened and a man that was definitely, 100% not human walked in. He looked about and as soon as his golden eyes settled on Leo, a giant, pointy toothed grin lit up the man’s face. “Ah hello! I assume you’re the gentleman this is for.” He said, while hefting up the covered tray he was carrying. “Uh, if it’s a meal the Doctor ordered from the Mess Hall, then probably, yeah.”

                The short, spotted man walked over and handed Leo the tray. “Tonight’s special: vegetable stew, fresh bread and liola root tapioca pudding for dessert. Oh, and I’m Neelix.” He said bowing slightly while holding his hands out together.

                The slider laughed a little and gestured with the tray. “Thanks. Sounds great and I’m Leo Hamato. Pleased to meet yah.” He set down the meal, lifted the lid and dug in. “Mm. This is really good, though, I have no idea what vegetables these are.”

                Neelix chuckled to himself grabbed a nearby stool and got comfortable. “Not surprising. They’re native to this region of space, but they’ve been tested to ensure they’re safe for the crew. Though I suppose we don’t really know what’s safe or not for you yet, do we?” he finished, suddenly concerned.

                “If it’s ok for humans it’s probably ok for me. If not, I’m in the right place to find out,” Leo waved his spoon to indicate Sickbay. “But it’d be kinda funny if I survived 20-some years of a literal apocalypse just to die to a vegetable.” Be a pretty fitting end to the whole crap show too.

                A few more mouthfuls later, “If it isn’t rude to ask, uh, what are you?”

                “Oh!” Neelix chuckled again, “No, no, not rude at all. I’m a Talaxian, from Rinax, one of Talaxia’s moons.”

                “Ok, and is Talax part of this Federation everyone keeps talking about?” Leon asked, ripping off a chunk of bread.

                Neelix shook his head, golden mohawk waving back and forth. “No, Talax is here in the Delta Quadrant. I ran into Voyager not long after they arrived. Originally I just wanted to trade favours with them, then we wound up working together on something else and eventually I just ended up staying on board.”

                Leo blinked for a moment, chewing his stew-soaked bread. “But, aren’t you leaving your people behind? Like, are you planning on getting off at some point or….?”

                The Talaxian smiled a little sadly. “I left my people behind a long time ago I’m afraid.” He looked down, shifting in his spot a bit. “We were conquered by one of our neighbouring species when I was a young man. In the process, they decimated Rinax, killing my family and most of my friends.” Leo’s eyes watered with echoed pain. “I wasn’t willing to live under Haakonian rule, so I left. Worked a few different jobs over the years. I was a merchant when I met Voyager. My connections and knowledge of local customs were part of what I offered when I joined the crew.” He grinned again and pointed to Leo’s meal. “My cooking skills have been more of a long term contribution though.”

                Rapidly sinking into his own memories, the turtle grabbed onto the lifeline Neelix extended, “So you’re ship’s cook then?” He swallowed a few times, trying to force his throat to open back up. The hearty stew helped.

                “Ship’s cook, moral officer, quartermaster, occasional babysitter, I’m a man of many talents.” Neelix replied, folding patterned hands across his middle.

                “Humble too.” Leo poked, trying to get a feel for the Talaxian’s sense of humour. Happily, the extra-terrestrial chuckled in response. “That too. Well, I’m afraid I have to go. There are some things I need to prepare now for breakfast tomorrow. Welcome to Voyager Leo, take it from me, it’s a good place to end up.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

                The next ship’s night was more typical for Leo; as in he slept a couple hours and then found himself staring at the ceiling. It was a new ceiling so that was novel. It was also clean and an entirely new texture. Additionally, there was the low background thrum of the SPACESHIP that he was slowly getting used to.

                Eventually he gave up on sleep entirely and reached for the pad that the Doctor had taught him to use after supper. It really wasn’t too different from a tablet, so he’d adapted quickly. Leon wondered if blue light was still a thing. Time for a little research. First, the Federation. Then Earth came up and Leon decided he just wasn’t ready for that yet, unexpected pain and jealousy gripping his heart.

                Next, he typed in Talaxians and got everything that Neelix had told the Federation about his people. Once he’d learned what he could, and shed a tear or two for Rinax, he moved on.

                One of his guards had looked subtly different from the others he’d seen so far. Asking the Doctor about the woman with a series of distinctive ridges down her nose, he’d been informed that she was Bajoran. They came from the planet Bajor, which wasn’t part of the Federation, but was considered friendly and apparently quite a few of them lived in Federation space. Digging into the planet’s record, he quickly discovered why.  Hostile species conquering their neighbours seems to be a theme. At least it looks like the Federation’s opposed to that sort of thing.

                He poked around a bit longer, trying to find a list of the species on board in the hopes that he wouldn’t horribly offend someone saying something he shouldn’t. Eventually, it was enough to lull him to sleep and next he knew Leo was blinking as the lights brightened for ship’s morning.

                May as well get up. Heaving himself onto legs steadier than they were yesterday, the massive turtle headed to the washroom, got himself sorted around and then went looking for breakfast. The Doctor’s instructions on replicator use and how the ship’s rationing system went reminded him that he had enough rations set aside for him to get two full replicated meals today. Deciding to use one now, still should get something light though, he went through the menus to Earth, Asian cuisine, Japan, miso soup, a basic omelette and a cup of jasmine tea, saving them to his favourites along the way. Hmph. Food Netflix. Mike’d flip out over this. His food arrived with the requisite side of supplements. “Cooking a nutritiously balanced diet for so many species is impossible.” The Doctor’s voice rang in his head. Taking the tray back to his assigned bed, revelling in the scents as he walked, Leo sat down to his first proper breakfast in too many years.

                Slinging the pills down first, he took a slow, lingering sip of his tea. Then promptly put it down, speed walked to the washroom, locked the door and burst into tears. It tasted of home. His father’s cooking once they had access to better ingredients. The longing, self-loathing how do I get to the be lucky one? How do I get to have this again, out of everyone?!

                He leaned back against the wall and tried to remember all the times he’d talked someone through survivor’s guilt. But it wasn’t ACTUALLY their fault! How many times had he told somebody, “They made a choice. They wanted you to live. Make it worth it.” The conflicting thoughts ricocheted back and forth across his mind.

                Your brothers never blamed you.

                They should have!

                They would want you to be happy.

                They shouldn’t! They should hate me!

                They loved you. They’d be happy you made it. Live for them. Live for MIKEY! He did this. Live for them! You’re the last Hamato, don’t let it all be for nothing.

                Leo thought of Neelix. How he spread the knowledge of his species to another civilization. How all those people could now learn about his family and friends that’d been killed. They would never be forgotten; even though they were gone, THEY MATTERED.

                That was it then. That was his purpose now, he wasn’t needed as a leader anymore, but he could make sure they were never forgotten, that his WORLD was never forgotten. That would be his penance, paltry as it was.

                Resolved, the old soldier heaved himself back onto his feet and out into sickbay, where the Doctor was worriedly examining his cooling meal. “Are you alright Leonardo? Did you have a reaction to the food?” Yeah, but not the one you’re thinking of. “Nah, I’m ok. Just needed a moment.” The Doctor’s raised eyebrow was dubious. “Not a medical issue, I swear. Just… memories.”

                “Ah. I see.” The hologram gave his patient a knowing look. “Anything I can help with? Not to pry, but I am also programmed to act as a therapist.”

                Leo struggled to keep the immediate visceral reaction off his face. “Not… not right now. But, I’ll keep it in mind.”

                “Very well.” The Doctor made his way back to his office, patting this patient on the shoulder as he went by. Leo returned to his meal, not willing to waste good food. After about an hour, a blond man, Leon was reasonably certain he was human, came in.

“Hello.” He said, after sharing a nod with the Doctor through the office window as he extended a hand to the recumbent reptile. “I’m Tom Paris, nice to meet you.”

                Leon met him part way. “Leo Hamato, likewise.”

                Hands shook, Paris continued, “I’m chief helmsmen normally, but I’m also trained to assist the Doctor. There’s a couple of us on board, even a hologram needs a break.”

                “So they have you doing double duty?” Leo asked, living hand soothingly running along the planes of his metal one.

                “Yeah,” Tom answered, picking up a pad to look over what was on his schedule for today. “Sickbay didn’t fair well when we got hauled across the galaxy. The Doctor’s pretty much been our medical staff since. There’s a couple of us with some advanced first aid training, took extra biology course in the academy, stuff like that. But we all already have other duties on board so… we just fill in where we can.” He started entering commands on the central console, voice trailing off a bit with his divided attention.

                “Yeah. We had stuff like that come up a lot in the resistance the last few years. There just weren’t enough people left to fill all the needed roles.” The turtle shifted a bit, trying to get more comfortable on a bed not made for his shell. “I’m actually a trained medic myself, though I don’t imagine that’d mean much here and now.”

                Paris glanced at Leo, eyebrows going up. “You’d be surprised. Most of the crew is human, general first aid is mostly the same for humanoids overall, and if you stayed on board, you’d have plenty of time to learn.” The man turned back to his work. “You could even take the Starfleet Academy courses if you wanted.”

                Real medical training? Treating ALIENS?! Possibilities started to whir around in Leonardo’s head. He reeled a bit at the idea of having options, rather than just scrambling to keep his people alive one more day. “Huh.”

                The next few hours were spent in relative silence, except when Leo’s cleaned clothes and gear were returned to him. The Doctor and Paris attended to their duties and, occasionally, a crewman came in for treatment. Leo himself was occupied with his pad, now looking through the medical database after his curiosity was peaked. This had led him to learning about non-humanoid species and some of his wildest geeky dreams were right there in technicolour. They produce buds that fall off and become kids?

                The human clearing his throat tore Leo’s attention away from his chosen rabbit hole. “Hey, I’m going to the mess hall to get some lunch. Want to come with?”

                Brain stuttering from switching gears, “Um, sure?”

                Tom chuckled, leaning against the centre console. “It’s ok if you don’t, just thought you might want to see some different grey walls. The ones in the mess hall have windows.” He said grinning and wiggling his eyebrows.

                “No, no I do.” Leo scrambled to close the pad down and tuck it away safely. Getting to see something new would be another very welcome distraction.

                Paris’ grin became toothy as he walked over to help his patient get free of the blankets and up on his feet. “Hey Doc! We’re going to lunch!” The hologram waved them off and the two headed out, Leonardo glad they’d apparently decided to call off his guard this morning.

                True to the human’s promise, there were more grey walls, along curving corridors with the occasional computer panel. Leo walked slowly, focussing more on steadiness than speed. He found that there was much less soreness than yesterday, just a lingering feeling of exhaustion.

                “So, who all have you met so far?” Tom broke the silence, as the pair meandered down the corridor.

                Leo’s hand trailed along light walls. “Uh, the Captain, the Doctor, a couple guards, Neelix, Seven of Nine, and… what was his name…” the turtle wracked his brain as he walked along. “It was right when I woke up… the Captain was there… Too-something?”

                “Tuvok?”

                “Yeah, that.”

                Tom huffed amusedly, “Lieutenant Tuvok. He’s our chief of security.”

                Leo glanced to the side. “Umm, is he human or…?”

                His companion was already shaking his blond head. “No. Tuvok is Vulcan. They’re another one of the four founding worlds. Practically Earth’s neighbour, and the first alien species we officially made contact with. There’s some major cultural differences, but we generally get along pretty well. On a more personal note, Tuvok and Captain Janeway are old friends.” The terrapin nodded along, filing away the information and resolving to look up Vulcans once he got back to sick bay.

                They reached a door which whooshed open for them in a manner Leo hadn’t quite gotten used to yet. The way Tom got in the little room and turned around immediately made Leon think elevator. His hunch was basically confirmed when the man abruptly said, “Deck Two,” and the car started to move. Old muscle memory kicked in, allowing Leonardo to properly brace with the movement while triggering a sense of wrong and surreal at functioning technology. The resistance had been living off of crumbs for so long, since Donnie, that it was weird to be in a clean, working elevator again.

                Before too long, they stopped, and got off on a new floor, deck Leo, it’s a ship. Turning into a short corridor, the turtle could hear voices and smell something, not familiar, but enticing. The doors at the end of the hall opened and two people in uniform came out, a dark skinned human woman, and what looked like a man with blue skin?

                They all nodded, exchanging polite smiles as they passed, then Leo entered what must be the mess hall. “Ah! Hello! Welcome, welcome!” Called out Neelix, from behind a cluttered counter. Leon absolutely leaned against that counter nonchalantly, not because his legs were starting to shake. “Hi Neelix, what’s on offer today?” Tom asks, leaning next to the ninja.

                “Ah gentlemen. A special treat today. I have discovered the joy that is Risan cuisine. I prepared a traditional, well style, palmiat, a sort of casserole served inside a hollowed out loaf of bread. I had to use local ingredients of course, but I think the end result is true to the original.” The talaxian rumbled along as he rapidly filled two trays. “And a glass of, hmmm, I can’t quite say it right, it’s a beverage AND a dessert. I’d recommend saving it for last; a lovely palate cleanser.”

                Leo didn’t notice the talaxian’s voice fading out because his own attention was completely fixated on the windows he’d just noticed. Opposite the counter, a row of large, thick windows revealed a vast expanse of space, lines of light streaking by. He suddenly realized that his hand was against the cool … glass? he’d walked over to in a daze. What Leon was sure must be stars flew past, threatening to draw him in again. Eventually, he found the strength to tear his eyes away and noticed Tom Paris standing next to him.

                “When you see it every day, you forget how amazing it is. Thanks for reminding me.” The human softly muttered.

                Leo turned, trying to reorient himself. While he was distracted, it looked like Paris had taken both their trays over to a table and gathered their respective tiny containers of supplements. “Oh. Sorry, didn’t mean to treat you like a waiter.”

                Tom smirked. “No problem. Everybody stares for awhile the first time they travel at warp.”

                Newb move. Great. A quirk of a smile and Leo walked to the table then started eating. Definitely different, but not bad. They ate quietly for a couple minutes before the doors opened and Tom waved over a couple that walked in, one a human male and the other of a species he didn’t know yet. Ok Leo, new people mode. Best manners.

                Trays and supplements collected, the pair came and joined them at their table, greeting smiles exchanged. “Leo I’d like to introduce you to two of my favourite people on board.” Tom started, sidling closer to the woman with ridges across her forehead. “This most beautiful of women,” she rolled her dark eyes fondly and elbowed the blond in his side, “hah!, is our Chief Engineer, and my better half; B’elanna Torres.” The brunette reached across the table to offer her hand. “Hi, nice to meet you.” Leo put down his bread quick and shook. “Leo, likewise.”

                Tom then moved onto the Asian looking human next to Leo himself. “And this is our Operations Officer, and my best friend, Harry Kim.” The handshake was repeated with a nod on both sides. Harry spoke up first. “So how are you doing so far?”

                “I mean, alright, I guess?” How would anybody be? Leo got back to enjoying actual food as opposed to the scavenged crap he’d gotten used to. “It’s certainly different. I feel like I’ve fallen into a Jupiter Jim movie.” B’elanna swallowed quickly. “Jupiter Jim?” Her dark eyes flicked back and forth between the humans, looking for their reactions. It sounds so stupid now. “This sci-fi series my brothers and I used to watch as kids.” He turned a little to look out the windows. “Seems a bit silly here on an actual spaceship.”

                “Doesn’t sound THAT silly.” The borderline petulance in Tom’s voice had him whip back to his dining companions. Tom and Harry were both staring at their meals bashfully while B’elanna hid a wide grin behind her hand. “What did I say?” the turtle asked, afraid he’d already sabotaged his potential friendships onboard.

                Apparently, this was too much for the engineer. She started chortling, “These two have a holodeck program, ‘Captain Proton’, based on a mid 20th century science fiction series. Sound familiar?”, B’elanna asked, eyes shining in mirth. The men quickly defended themselves. “It’s a view into how pre-warp Earth was looking at their future in space!” Harry said.

“Old starships, adventures, facing off against Dr Chaotica and his hordes of evil. It’s fun!” Tom added enthusiastically. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time they’d had to make this argument. Leon felt a little smile growing on his beak. “It does sound like fun. Is it like a movie that you watch or a game you play or something?”

Harry swallowed his current bite. “It’s a holo-novel. There’s a set script, and you take the role of a character, then play out the story with the other characters reacting to you according to their pre-programed parameters.”

Leo chewed the last of his bread bowl thoughtfully. “Holodeck, holo-novel. Does this have something to do with holograms like the Doctor?”

B’elanna jumped back in. “Yes. The holodeck is a room that produces everything from items to entire artificial environments using replicators, photons and forcefields.” She attacked her own bread bowl. “With things like holo-novels, you play out the story from the INSIDE. Voyager has two holodecks and, frankly, without them we all probably would’ve gone stark raving mad after the first couple years.”

 “A hundred and forty some people stuck on board with no shore leave for months at a time? Tuvok would be a lot busier.” Paris quipped, not noticing the moustache his drink had left along the blond’s upper lip. Harry nodded along, sharing a smirk with B’elanna over Tom’s face.

“I can see that.” Leo answered, carefully running his tongue along his own upper beak. “So to me, this holo-novel thing kinda sounds like a virtual reality role-playing game?”

Nods all around. “That would be a decent description of it.” Harry answered. “Tom and I spend about one afternoon a week in there. Maybe you should join us sometime? Defeat the forces of evil and go for dinner after?”

The turtle huffed a soft laugh. “I think I’d like that.”

Conversation fell to more mundane topics after that for the short time it took the later arrivals to finish their desserts. Lunch over, they split off to their individual tasks with Tom helping Leo make their way back to Sickbay.                

One elevator ride later, “It’s actually called a turbolift.”, they were back on the right deck. “So,” Leo slowed a little, stamina running out along with the sleepiness of a good meal, “at the risk of being really rude, what … species is B’elanna?”

Tom smiled. “No it’s fine. It’s just something you’ll learn over time. B’elanna is actually a hybrid. Her father was human, and her mother was Klingon.” He looked up, clearly trying to think of the best way to explain. “Klingons aren’t part of the federation. They’re a warrior culture that we used to be enemies with, but awhile ago we made peace and eventually became allies. Most of the time we get along ok but there’re hiccups once in a while.” Extending a hand, asking permission with his eyes, Tom took ahold of Leo’s left elbow to help him along. “She spent most of her childhood on a federation colony, but some on Qo’nos, the Klingon homeworld, too. Culturally she leans more human, but she definitely has the Klingon temper. Her bark is usually worse than her bite though.”

Leo made a mental note to learn more later as they finally shuffled back into Sickbay. The Doctor greeted them and came over to give his patient a look see how the turtle fared after his little expedition. Once the two Starfleet officers got back to their regular work, Leon dug out his pad.

                Ok, Vulcans. The database was extensive and ate up a couple hours just covering  an overview. At the end he was left with an impression of a people that overall were ridged, but for a reason. They simply weren’t capable of the same flexibility that humans were. The tradeoff was that they excelled in the things they WERE good at. In their natural enviroment, they were virtually unmatched for endurance, nearly as strong as Leo himself and mental powerhouses to boot. So pointed ears and brows, don’t touch, be more straightforward and factual. Got it. Hopefully he wouldn’t stick his foot in his beak the first time he really interacted with one.

                Klingons next. Pretty much the polar opposite of Vulcans. Passionate, violent and largely ruled by emotions; the only things they had in common were physical strength, cold intolerance and an iron clad social structure that kept everything else from falling apart. There was only one Klingon he likely would be dealing with for now and according to Tom she was more human like than Klingon. Still, he resolved to observe and take Klingon traits into consideration when dealing with her. That gagh sounds interesting though.

                After Paris left, Leo got up to replicate himself some dinner. Still feeling full from the substantial lunch, he opted for a simple tomato soup and grilled cheese; enjoying the comfort food to take his necessary meds with. A quick shower later he settled into bed warm, fed and tired with an overall peaceful day to hopefully fuel pleasant dreams. As the Doctor lowered the lights early for the exhausted man, Leonardo thought of his family. G’night guys. Wish you were here. Hope you’re good together, wherever you are.

                A fitful night later, Leon was roused by the customary brightening of sick bay’s lights for morning and a pleasant smell. Opening cobalt eyes, he saw a kitchen tray on the opposite bed. “I thought you might like to have breakfast handy when you woke up.” The Doctor said from the central console where he was tapping away at muted screens.

“Thanks Doc.” Leo sat up and grabbed what turned out to be some type of cereal with fruit and a coffee with all the fixings on the side. Coffee wasn’t his favourite thing, but he recognized that he couldn’t waste replicator rations on his favourite beverage every day.

                Breakfast finished, he carried his dishes to the replicator, took care of his morning constitutional and headed back out to face the expectant Doctor. “What?” The hologram chuckled a little. “I’d like to have a look at your wound to see if it stills needs the sealant patch.”

                “Oh, ok.” Leo laid down and the Doctor got to work. At least it was on his plastron so he didn’t have to deal with the feeling of a giant bandaid being peeled off his skin; though his scales had thickened with age, so it probably wouldn’t be as bad as when he was a kid. “Remarkable.” The Doctor muttered, looking over the nearly sealed keratin. Ok, even for us that’s fast. “How? I figured you were just giving me really good painkillers. How’s it all closed up already? I mean… I know I was designed to heal quick but…”

                “We used the autosuture to close the wound from inside out. I imagine this is the result of both your accelerated healing, and our treatment.” The Doctor pressed around the wound to judge any lingering tenderness. Apparently satisfied, he said, “Well, I don’t think we need to cover it up anymore. I’ve noticed other injuries to your shell; does it eventually grow out or..?”

                Leo ran a practiced hand over the various nicks and crevices of his plastron. “Yeah, enough sheds and the shell mostly smooths out again.” Sitting up he asked, “So how’d you heal me from the inside?” This cascaded into hours spent going over various medical devices and learning how they worked. There was a bit of a hiccup when they discovered that his fingers were a skosh too big for the tricorder buttons. “We’ll have to get you a larger model.”

                Shortly before lunch, a large human with the first tattoo Leo’d seen here, walked into Sickbay. “Hello Commander.” The Doctor took the lead, “Leonardo Hamato, this is Commander Chakotay, first officer.” The two shook hands as the hologram stepped to the side. “It’s nice to meet you Mr Hamato.”

                The giant turtle shook his head. “Please, just Leo. It’s nice to meet you too Commander.”

                “Chakotay is fine.” A gentle smile was on the man’s square jaw. “I’m actually here to extend an invitation. The Captain would like to know if you’d be up to joining us for lunch in her ready room.”

                Anxiety raced through Leon’s body; this was probably going to be a SERIOUS conversation. “Uh, sure, ok. Lead the way.”

                Chakotay gestured to the door. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite.”

                Leo was glad at least that his legs were steadier today. He ran through some subtle breathing exercises as they walked to the turbolift. “Bridge.” Chakotay ordered and up they went. Moment later the doors wooshed open, giving the ninja his first look at Voyager’s command deck.

                A bright wide room full of sweeping curves and beeping consoles was dominated by an expansive, forward-facing window on the lower level. The view was identical to the one from the Mess Hall, stars streaking by as they hurtled through space at speeds Leo couldn’t imagine. Speaking of… “Chakotay?”

                The copper skinned man paused off to Leo’s right. “Yes?”

                “How fast are we going?”

                Chakotay chuckled a little. “Right now, we’re cruising at warp 8. That’s about 500 billion kilometres an hour.”

                “That….. is not helpful at all.”

                The first officer smirked. “You’ll get used to it. This way?” He gestured further off to their right and led the bewildered warrior through another door. On the other side was a large office, continuing the theme of sweeping lines. Janeway’s desk was covered with pads and what looked like a laptop. The Captain herself was setting a tray of food on a low table by more panoramic windows. “Gentlemen.” She stood and walked toward them; hands clasped over her middle.

                Once at a polite distance, the auburn-haired woman extended her hand to their guest. “Leo. It’s good to see again. How are you doing?”

                Leon’s giant metal grasp engulfed hers, not seeming to intimidate the woman at all. “Better thanks. Everyone’s been great.”

                A soft smile grew on her face. “I’m glad to hear that.” She walked over to a replicator. “I took the liberty of getting Chakotay and I’s meals first. What can I get for you?” At his hesitation Janeway held up a hand, “My treat.” Relieved he could keep his, as of yet, scant rations, the turtle answered, “Uh, tonkotsu ramen please.”

                Chakotay led him up to the couch while the Captain brought his tray over. “Thank you ma’am.” He said, taking the food and setting it over his lap. “You’re very welcome.”

                They sat and all got a few bites in before starting to talk. “So now that you’ve had an opportunity to get your bearings,” Katherine began picking over her chicken salad, “what are your thoughts so far? Do you have any questions?”

                Doing his best not to slurp, Leonardo pondered for a second. “Well, like I said, everyone’s been great. Really welcoming.” Both CO’s beamed with pride in their crew. “I don’t… I don’t know where else I’d go anyway…”

                Setting down his sandwich, Chakotay reassured the ninja, “Don’t think that you’re obligating yourself to stay. We’ve always maintained the option for people to leave if they want.” The command pair shared a look, Janeway nodding encouragingly. He continued, “You can stay for awhile, get some training, see if it’s a good fit. If nothing else, you’ll gain some skills that could help if you do decide to leave.”

                Leon nodded while they all focused on their meals for a moment, then Janeway swallowed and spoke again. “We’ll arrange some introductory courses to familiarize you with crucial technology, emergency systems, general information about this universe; then we can move on to more specialized training. What are your interests? Positions you’ve held before?” The Captain ducked her head, taking another bite of chicken.

                Is this what a job interview feels like? The giant reptile settled back into comfy cushions a little, letting his shell sink in. “Well for the last twenty some years I led the resistance fighting the Krang. That was fun.” He suppressed a disgusted smirk. “Uh.. I’m a Master Ninja and a trained field medic. Most of that was getting people back to base to proper doctors. Lots of battlefield experience. I’m a decent shot but hand to hand and swordsmanship are my speciality.” He finished with a shrug, swirling his soup with the spoon.

                Finishing off his own meal, Chakotay observed, “Well you could definitely be an asset with security, particularly on away missions; but if you’d like to pursue medicine; the Doctor is shorthanded in sick bay.” Heaving himself up, the Commander headed over to snag a small container off Janeway’s desk. Returning to set it on the table he opened the lid, revealing what smelled like a dessert.

                The Captain leaned forward to select a portion for herself. “In any case, you have options. We can get you up to speed first and settled, then you can begin looking at what you’d like to do.”

                Leon finished the last of his soup, nodding along. “Sounds like a plan.” He paused, “Thank you Captain. All of you have been so welcoming and I really appreciate your help.” Setting his empty bowl on the table, “I hope I can pay you back someday.”

                She held up a hand. “Not at all. Offering any possible assistance is a core Federation value; we’re happy to help. It’s resulted in many excellent friendships over the years.” Janeway handed her dishes to Chakotay, who also grabbed the other two sets and returned them to the replicator. “But one step at a time. I believe there’s a refresher course this week on ship’s emergency systems; you can join in on that class to get started.” She rose as her second stepped back up, another, smaller, box in his hands.

                Sensing the more formal air, Leonardo stood, stepping forward as the Captain reached into the little box to pick up a copy of the badge that he’d seen everyone wearing. “This is a combadge,” she began, “short for communication badge. It also allows the main computer to monitor your location and vital signs.” Reacting forward, the woman pinned it to Leo’s wrap. “Welcome to Voyager, Mr Hamato.”

                Neelix had been called to the Captain’s ready room, and now the ship’s moral officer was escorting Leon to his newly assigned quarters. “Here we are, deck three!” the talaxian exclaimed as they stepped off the turbolift. “Quarters with a tub? You’ve lucked out my friend. Sonic showers are lovely, but needing to bathe in water? I envy you.”

                “I’m looking forward to it myself, being a turtle and all.” Leo replied, ignoring the fatigue setting in after walking more than he had since getting yeeted across the multiverse.

                The other man cocked his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about that side of you. Turtles like water then?”

                Leon huffed a laugh. “Like? Yeah, you could say that. I’m a red eared slider, considered semi-aquatic, and I haven’t gotten to swim in over a decade. I’m gonna have to drag myself out of that tub.” Good thing I’ve been able to shower every day.

                Neelix pulled up next to a door. “Well, we have to get you into the holodeck as soon as possible then. There’s some wonderful swimming programs, I’m sure you’ll enjoy them. Oh!” He pressed a few buttons on the control panel. “Push your fingers to it now so the door can key to you.” Two fingers connecting, the panel acknowledged with a little chime and the doors swooshed open.

                Spotted face split by a wide grin, Neelix waved the slider into his new home. Like most of the ship it was smooth lines, grey walls and blue/purple carpeting. Three high windows dominated the opposite wall. Tearing his eyes away from the stars racing past, he took in a desk to his immediate right, a replicator in the adjacent wall and a low, grey couch under the windows. About two feet past that was a decently sized bed. The last wall held a door that looked like it led into another Starfleet style washroom. Leon’s inspection of the place was interrupted by Neelix scurrying over to the replicator where he began to enter commands. “I’m just adding some more replicator rations so that you can get a few necessities. Toiletries, a few changes of clothes and such. You’ll also have holodeck time added on a weekly basis. You don’t have to use it all at once, but with how much demand there is, just remember that you’ll have to book a session in advance.”

                The slightly manic chef then bustled over to the washroom, “Has anyone shown you how to use the clothes refresher yet?”

                “Uh.. no?”

                A quick lesson on the squat appliance led into a thorough tour of its attached closet and bathroom facilities. Neelix then went through a more comprehensive explanation of the various features of Leo’s new quarters as a whole and some more of the onboard creature comforts; as well as community events in the mess hall and holodeck. Eventually the exuberant man petered out. “Is there anything else you’d like to ask right now?”

                Fighting off a headache, “No, I think I’m ok for now,” the giant reptile replied.

                “All right then. I’ll be off. Ah!” Neelix paused halfway out the door, “Tom wanted me to let you know that he’ll be having dinner with B’elanna and Harry in the mess hall at 17:00 if you’d like to join them.” Message delivered with a smile, the talaxian headed out, leaving Leonardo completely alone for the first time since arriving on board.

                Pulling April’s gifted sword from his hip, Leo set the sheathed blade on his desk. He then hauled a chair over to settle in for a “shopping spree” at the replicator.  First, toiletries. Once he had those squirreled away, he turned to clothing. As Neelix had indicated, the Doctor had helpfully entered Leon’s measurements so he could order clothes that FIT. First things first, a shirt. The ship was just slightly cooler than a mutant reptile would like.

                A couple hours later, Leo’d worked his way through the available selections, happily discovering options from a culture of humanoid reptiles very similar to himself in overall structure. Given things were being replicated, he was able to combine the designs with more familiar earth materials. The results were a couple more pairs of pants, combat boots, t-shirts, a hoodie and undergarments that were not only comfortable, but flattering, even with the hump of his shell.

                Then he steeled himself for an incoming emotional storm. I’ll be eating nothing but mess chow for awhile but.. First, a proper stand for his sword, then a long band of orange silk, small jade figurines of a rat and goat along with a pair of candles. Items acquired, the striped turtle stood and looked about his new home. Those windowsills are pretty wide. Once kneeling on the couch, Leo set the stand in the middle window, placed the candles and figurines, then sat cross legged to gently undo the bands of his sword’s hilt, cleaned them as best he could and meticulously wove them back together with the additional stripe of orange.

                Chin trembling as he reverently placed his sword on its new stand, Leo resigned himself to facing the scraps he had left of his family. The last Hamato settled himself sideways on the grey seat, gazing past his little set up to the ancient stars flying by. I’m so sorry. I miss you all so much. Reaching into his side pouch, Leon pulled out a small, pinkish rock he’d been carrying around for the last twelve years. He remembered little Casey running up. “Unca! Unca! Look!”

                He’d knelt down to the boy’s level, trying not to get bonked by Casey’s outstretched fist. “What’cha got there Case?”

                “Sah rock!”

                Leo’d fought not to laugh. “Yeah, I can see that.”

                Little Casey had held it up to his deep, brown eye like a prospector. “Sah pretty! Like goooold.”

                Sure enough, there were yellow veins and sparkles running through the stone. No wonder the child had thought it bits of gold. “Wow Case! You struck it big. Good job buddy.”

                Then the tiny grubby hand had been thrust back into Leonardo’s face. “For you!”

                That kid. He found something he thought was pretty and valuable then immediately decided to give it to someone else. Leo had fussed over the child and his gift, thanking him profusely as he put the rock into his pouch for safe keeping. Even then, he’d had a hard time to keep from crying, now?… he didn’t try.

                Weeping with heaving sobs tearing through his plastron, Leon placed the tiny rock in the centre of his family memorial; hoping desperately that his last living relative was enjoying a much happier world now. Bereft of everyone he’d every loved, Leo sank face down into the cushions and mourned.

                An informal meeting was taking place elsewhere on the ship. Chakotay and Katherine were joined in her ready room by Tuvok and the Doctor. “Well gentlemen,” she began, “we have a new provisional crew member. Doctor, you’ve spent the most time with him, what’s your evaluation?” she asked from behind her desk.

                The hologram settled into his seat. “Overall, I’d say he’s doing well for his circumstances. Physically, he’s recovering rapidly. Emotionally? That’s harder to track.” The Doctor paused a moment, gathering data and his thoughts. “Part of the problem is, I’m unsure how much his physiology affects his psychology. Going strictly by human parameters though, he could be worse?” He sighed. “Leo’s lost everyone he cares for along with his entire world, not to mention the damage that would result from two decades of war. Frankly he’s either remarkably well adjusted or ruthlessly suppressing his emotions, and not in the healthy for a Vulcan way.”

                “Few people can.” Remarked their resident Vulcan his in superior/joking manner. Everyone took it for the good-natured banter that it was and refocused on the matter at hand. The Doctor started up again. “I did broach the topic of counselling, but he wasn’t ready for it yet, though he didn’t dismiss the notion outright. At this point, I think all we can do is wait and help him as issues arise. Likely now that he is safe, his mind will begin to process things that he simply couldn’t afford to before.”

                Everyone digested this. “Well,” Chakotay ventured, leaning against the wall, “however that situation develops, so far he seems agreeable and willing to work with us.” He turned to their seated security chief, “He was in a leadership position during the conflict and is an accomplished soldier. I’ll write you a full report, but you might want to talk to him about evaluating his skill set to see if you can make use of him.”

                A concerned looking Doctor piped up, raising his hand. “Ah.. Leo also mentioned that he is a trained field medic and has an interest in medicine.”

                The two humans laughed softly to themselves. “Staking a claim Doctor?” Katherine asked sardonically.

                “Oh.. well…”

                Chakotay took pity on him. “He told us that too, Doctor; and we assured him that he can pursue whatever options he likes once we get him up to speed on more overall training. If Leo would prefer a more peaceful career path now, we’ll absolutely go that route. If not, he can still be added to your rotation of assistants.” The commander assured. Mollified, their Doctor settled down.

                Janeway asserted herself, “We’re agreed then. Basic training first, then Tuvok and the Doctor can assess his skills and offer him further training in those fields. In the meantime, Doctor, monitor Leo closely, particularly his mental state. Hopefully, we’ll be able to head off any problems before they get out of hand.”

                At her nod, they began to disperse, the Vulcan commander choosing to stay behind. “Tuvok?” Katherine asked, getting up to go around her desk and take the Doctor’s abandoned chair, “You have other concerns?”

                He inhaled and shifted in his seat. “Yes. Two things. One, we still do not know exactly how this portal of his brother’s brought him here. Two, with that in mind, we do not know if these Krang would be able to follow him through. If they are as dangerous as he says, we need to determine if they present a threat to our universe, and if so, how to combat them.”

                She sat back, bracing her forearm between desk and temple while gesturing with the other. “I agree, but I hesitate to push him to speak about something that MUST be traumatizing before he’s ready.”

                “We may not have the luxury to wait.” Her security chief observed.

                Pulling her legs up onto her chair, Katherine sighed. “I know. You’re right of course, but they might not end up being a factor at all; and if we hamper his recovery over nothing…” the human trailed off, staring helplessly at the ceiling.

                “The needs of the many…” her old friend intoned.

                “Yes, yes. No need to quote Spock at me.” She said, slumping a bit to consider her old mentor. … actually. “Well, we could kill two birds with one stone.”

                Something must have shown on her face as the Vulcan suddenly looked… “alarmed.”

                “Captain?”

                She smirked. “Part of developing one’s skills as a command officer is learning to navigate difficult situations with subordinates that are dealing with heightened emotions.” Something a Vulcan avoids like the plague.  “Perhaps you should look for an opportunity after the training session to speak with him, maybe see if it’s a good time to learn more about these Krang.”

                The way his face completely locked down ALMOST made her start laughing. “Captain, given his….emotionally delicate condition, I would recommend someone more adept with such matters. You yourself are concerned that it would be too soon..”

                Nope, you’re not getting out of this. It was your idea. “But as you said, it needs to be done anyway, and I have plenty of experience handling such matters.” The unspoken “you don’t” hung between them.

                Tuvok allowed himself to vent his displeasure by working his jaw, once. “Very well Captain. I will endeavour to learn what I can while not traumatizing our newest crewmember.”

                Atta boy. Start to see him as someone you’re in a bad situation WITH. “Carry on Commander.” She waited until he was nearly out the door. “Tuvok?” The disgruntled security officer glanced back at her, “Treat him the way you’d want one of your children treated in his position.” Understanding flashed in his eyes, then he nodded and continued out. You’re more emotionally intelligent than you think. Katherine smiled to herself, grabbed her mug and swigged the remnants of cold coffee. You may be wiser than me, old friend, but I’m wilier.

                Leo raised his face from the basin of cold water, patted himself dry with a towel then checked his eyes in the mirror. Twenty minutes before he was supposed to head to the mess hall and his face was still all red and puffy from crying. The crew had to know he was in mourning, but he didn’t want to be obvious about it.

                Pinching a few scales under one dark eye, he pulled, extending the baggy skin further than it should go. Yikes. Good thing I wear a mask. Plunging back into the basin, Leo thanked Draxum for the extended lung capacity.

                Looking up again ten minutes later, the slider decided it was good enough, dried off once more and grabbed his new hoodie, attaching the combadge to it. Comfy, he checked his appearance in the mirror once more, then walked back into the main room and sat on the end of his bed. Stomping into combat boots, Leon spared a glance for his sword. It’d probably make people more comfortable if I left it here. Not like I have to worry about the Krang popping up from around a corner.

                He walked out of his quarters, sword on hip, and tried to remember how to reach Voyager’s mess hall. The turbolift was easy enough; it was visible from his door. Once inside he cautiously called out, “Deck two?”, and the space elevator quickly moved up one deck then opened again. From here he followed his nose, then the sound of conversation to the rotating crowd of people having dinner/breakfast, depending on which shift they were.

                Tom spotted him first, waving from what Leo was now guessing to be their customary table. Collecting a tray of what looked like steak and fries with a salad, Leo quickly dropped off his food, exchanging greetings, and grabbed his supplements from the replicator. Finally sorted, he plunked down next to Harry. “So, I’m guessing this is no animal I’ve ever heard of before.”

                They all chuckled a little. “Honestly, none of us knows what it is.” Said B’Elanna, “We picked it up at a planet about a month ago. It’s alright. Tastes cheesy?”

                Leo poked the piece of meat with his fork. “We talking mozzarella or blue?”

                “Monteray Jack?” Harry chimed in.

                As long as it isn’t rat. “I can work with that.” The slider dug into his steak which indeed had a faint flavour of jack cheese. “Not bad.”

                They ate for awhile, B’Elanna going over their latest test results in engineering, which led into an attempt to explain warp drive and dilithium crystals. Results were mixed. Leon thought he got the bare basics; dilithium important, new fake dilithium important invention, but the three officers were still giving him “oh the poor primitive” looks. Well, just shows how much I’ve got to learn, I guess.

                “So, how’d your meeting with the Captain go?” Kim asked, in between bites of salad. At Leo’s questioning look, he continued, “I was on the bridge when you came up. You must’ve not seen me. My duty station is at the opposite end of the bridge from the Captain’s ready room.”

                Leonardo filed that little tidbit away. “Oh, yeah. It went ok. Laid out a general plan for getting me up to speed starting with a training session for ship’s emergency systems.”

                “Oooh, hope you don’t get motion sick easy. The loss of artificial gravity portion can really mess with you.” Tom said, unpleasant memories scrolling across his face.

                “YOU got sick?” B’Elanna asked, bewildered.

                “No, of course not. Couldn’t be a good pilot without a strong stomach.” Paris replied. “Some of my classmates at the academy however…. I’m pretty sure the cleaning staff used those days as a punishment.”

Resolutely putting that thought out of mind while EATING, the slider continued his original telling. “I also got some matching jewellery,” he waved at the combadge on his hoodie; which immediately chirped. “Doctor to Hamato.”

“Uhhh ….”

B’Elanna rescued him. “No one explained? Ok, tap it and say ‘Hamato here.’”

He followed her instructions. “Ah, Hamato here Doctor.”

“Would you be available for an appointment tomorrow at 0900 hours in holodeck 2?”

Leo smirked to himself. “Lemme check my calendar Doc.” He threw a couple fries in his mouth while the others smiled and stifled their chuckles. “Yeah, I think I can squeeze you in.” There was a moment of silence with the ninja desperately hoping he hadn’t just sabotaged one potential relationship for three others. The hologram replied ruefully, “Very good Leo. I’ll see you there; if you can find it. Doctor out.”

Leon barked a laugh. “He’s sassy.”

Chewing on the last of his steak, Tom muttered around his food. “It’s part of his charm.”

                The next morning found a befuddled turtle wandering deck six. I wish the labelling on the doors was bigger, or even existent sometimes. They probably have the whole ship memorized after living onboard for years. Turning a corner, he finally spotted the Doctor waiting, looking in the other direction. “Hey Doc!”

                Surprised, the man turned at Leon’s call. “Ah! Leo. So, you did manage to find your way.” He replied with a cheeky grin.

                “Yeah yeah. I’m not sure I need physio now after walking all over two decks. You guys need signs.” The slider griped playfully. He didn’t quite get the response he’d been aiming for though. “Are you alright? Did you overexert yourself?” the Doctor asked, concerned.

                “Just playing with you Doc. Good food and rest has already done a lot.”

                The hologram settled, reassured. “Oh, good. Let’s get started then, I already have the program running.” The door opened and Leo was hit with the scent of humid air and plants. Poking his head in, he was blown away by the sight of a pristine lake surrounded by forests with a long wooden dock leading out into the water. Fuzzy memories of a weekend in the woods with Todd came to mind, but not with the same pang that such a realistic facsimile of New York would’ve conjured. The faint buzz of the holograms against his tremor sense helped too.

                He realized he was gawking when the Doctor tapped him on the shoulder. “Leo?”

                “Sorry,” shaking his striped head, “it’s just really…..real?”

                “No problem. We can change in the cabin.” And sure enough, off to the side was an old, rustic wood cabin. Quickly switching into form fitting shorts, just like when we were kids, Leo was easing into summer-warm water, the Doctor nearby just in case.

                It wasn’t necessary though as, even injured, a turtle is at their best in water. After quickly warning the Doctor of how long he could stay under, Leonardo slid beneath the surface, submerging in clean, fresh water for what felt like the very first time. Pushing off one of the dock pylons, he surged forward, aiming for deeper water and a forest of weeds. Thank you for waterproofing the arm Dee.

                The next hour was spent cruising about the small lake, occasionally startling the Doctor from below and just in general getting his swim on. Eventually, they had to relinquish the room for the next crewman eager to escape Voyager’s limited halls.

                Drying off, clothes spread across a bench in the cabin’s washroom, Leon revelled in the loose, relaxed state he hadn’t properly experienced since childhood. Battling back guilt and grief that wanted to flood in, Mikey’s sage counsel rang through his mind; grieve as you need to, but don’t forget to take breaks from it too.

                “How are you feeling?” the Doctor’s call shook him back to full awareness. “Good,” he answered, shrugging into a tee as he walked back out trying not to snag it on his metal arm, “refreshed, tired; but in the happy way, not the blech way.”

                The other man smiled. “Good, that’s what we’re going for. I’m prescribing this for one hour every day for the next two weeks. Since it’s a prescription, it won’t come out of your holodeck allotment.” Carefully watching Leo’s stride as they left, he added, “I don’t think you’ll need further supervision, you seem to be moving easily enough. There’s also safety protocols in the holodeck, just so you know.”

                “Thanks.”

                The hologram then gave Leo a side eye; one the old conman easily saw as an attempt to be sly. “If you don’t have other plans, you’re welcome in sickbay. I’m not busy and happy to help you learn more about modern medicine.” Subtle. Leonardo was aware that the Doctor was looking to poach the slider for his medical staff, such as it was.

                “You’d set aside your whole morning for little ole me? I’m flattered.” The balding man smirked in return as Leon continued, “Sounds like fun, lead the way.”

                The Doctor smiled, wide and genuine and guided his new friend to sick bay.

                Doctor Crusher then removed the reproductive parasite from Commander Leijten’s thymus resulting the Commander’s immune response reasserting itself and reverting all physical alterations.

Leo took a break from reading to sip at his water, suddenly very grateful that the Krang hadn’t been able to produce spores or something else OP like that. Their ability to infect… everything, had been bad enough as it was.

Stars rushing by the mess hall windows reassured him that he was safely far from any Krang; as best he knew anyway. Don’t borrow trouble Leo. Turning attention back to his pad, Leonardo continued reading the wild and wonderful Federation medical database. Currently the best distraction from Leon’s alternating cycle of nightmares and insomnia, the turtle was thoroughly enjoying his second favourite nerdy obsession, biology and medicine.

He nodded in acknowledgement as a handful of crewmembers came in to grab a meal, likely on their nightshift lunch break. Leo made a mental note to clear out in another couple hours before Neelix came in to start breakfast prep; he didn’t want the Talaxian tattling to the Doctor about Leo’s lack of sleep. Especially since his didn’t want anything changing today’s plans.

Today was going to be his first official training session, emergency procedures. He was supposed to meet the class in cargo bay one at 1000 hours, just late enough to get in his morning swim. But first, Barclay’s Disease? Do tell.

A few hours later, the ninja master was getting some extra PT trying to find cargo bay one. I’m starting to think they make everything look the same on purpose. Boarders would get lost trying to find the important stuff. At least he’d had the foresight to give himself lots of extra time to get from the holodeck to the cargo bay.

Finally, he overheard a couple of people mentioning Tuvok as they walked through a set of doors ahead and decided to take a chance. Poking his head into the room, he suddenly had the attention of about a dozen people in a large space lined with shelving full of crates and pallets of plastic barrels. “Uh.. hi. Is this the emergency procedures class?”

A little girl with red hair and .. horns? on her forehead bounced up. “Yep! You’re just in time! We’re waiting for Commander Tuvok, he should be here soon.”

Leo’s brain stuttered for a moment as he realised there were three children present as well, looking to range in age from 10 to 16. “Oh, good.” He looked around, making sure all adults were ok with him talking to their kids. “Thanks for letting me know, little lady. I’m Leo,” he said, ducking his head down closer to her level.         

She bounced again, a tall teen boy coming up behind her, “I’m Naomi Wildman! I’m the Captain’s assistant.” The red head answered with the absolute confidence only a child could have.

The ninja snapped to attention. “Yes Ma’am. Good to know.”

“We need to be ready for Commander Tuvok Naomi.” The dark-haired boy said as he pulled her away by a gentle hand on her shoulder. Leo noticed the signature of Borg technology on the boy’s face as he gave the turtle a suspicious look. Good man, take care of her, Leo couldn’t help but think. Fearlessness could be an asset, but it could also get that kid in a lot of trouble without someone a little more sceptical at her side. Leo resolutely didn’t think about watching out for Mikey in the past.

He was thankfully distracted by the doors whooshing open to admit the oft mentioned Commander Tuvok. Stern, the Vulcan swept his eyes over them all, lingering over Leonardo for a barely detectable moment. “Greetings. Today we will be reviewing emergency procedures. Firstly,” the children pushed forward to the front of the group, “where are the emergency kits located?”

Naomi’s hand shot up. “Two panels up from the floor and three left of the door.”

Their instructor nodded, “Correct,” then walked to said panel. Tuvok gestured to a green uniformed woman on Leo’s right. She scooted forward and removed the panel by lifting it up and off the wall. Oh, that’s clever. I wonder if there’s something behind every panel. Making a mental note to check in his own quarters after, Leo craned his neck to watch Tuvok’s demonstration as everyone crowded in closer.

There were three large cases in the wall. Pulling out one labelled with the Starfleet Medical logo, Tuvok opened it for all to see laid out on the floor. “Here we have your emergency medical kit.” He went on to list its contents, medical tricorder, dermal regenerator and other schmancy things the Doctor had already helpfully demonstrated for the long-time medic.

Next, Tuvok moved onto the other cases, one being a breathing unit with gases for multiple species, (“You never know who we may have to help in an emergency,” one person helpfully supplied.), a flashlight stowed in the bottom, and finally, a fire extinguisher with different compartments for various forms of fire. That prompted several questions from Leonardo on how to choose which you needed.

“Why isn’t the emergency stuff panel labelled?” Leo asked once Tuvok nodded at his raised hand. The other little girl present jolted, stopping herself from blurting out her thoughts. The Commander noticed. “Would you like to answer Mezoti?”

The girl, Mezoti apparently, smiled ever so slightly and answered in a flat voice, “Not all Federation species can see the same wavelengths of light and, therefore, the same colours. In order to avoid any difficulties in an emergency, all federation facilities, vehicles and vessels have emergency supplies in the same location in every room and corridor.” The young borg, she too had the implants, then folded her hands in front of her waist so primly Leo could almost see his twin standing next to her smirking. I really need to stop comparing everyone to them.

Leon was helped to fight off memories by Tuvok announcing the next phase of their training; what to do if the artificial gravity fails. Within minutes, the turtle was happily bouncing around, enjoying a freedom of movement that he hadn’t had in years. It was almost like his portals. Oh I didn’t realize how much I missed this. It was even better than swimming. Effortless, no drag, there was nothing to slow him down.

Flipping around, the slider used the opportunity to inspect parts of the room he couldn’t see before. Crates had thoughtfully been strapped down to their many shelving units, labels only saying things like A-2, they must use some index to keep track of what’s in which box. Saves them having to change labels all the time I suppose. Crewmembers floated by, one clearly fighting to keep his stomach down. All the kids seemed fine. Honestly they were just playing at this point with some of the others that weren’t bothered by the loss of a fundamental force.

“You seem comfortable in a zero-gravity enviroment.” Leo glanced down to see the Vulcan Commander floating beneath him. “Oh, yeah. I used portals a lot when I was a kid. Enter in one point, exit in another, and the gravity would change almost every time. Frankly, this is easier on my stomach.”

“Used portals? How di-“

“Mr Tuvok!” Both turned as someone lost their battle.

…. Ewwwwwwww….

Gravity restored and mess cleaned up, Tuvok moved on to their next lesson; question seemingly forgotten. Now they were drilled on battle stations, currently Leo’s would be his quarters, emergency shelter locations, Leo was told to go to the mess hall if he wasn’t badly injured or just do what the most senior crew member he was with told him. They covered a variety of other topics, hull breach, life support failure, how to report injuries and damage to the ship, etc.

Finally, they made like a day care class and toddled out into the hallway. “In every corridor along the outer hull, the panels are entrances to escape pods.” The Vulcan pulled a panel open to demonstrate his words. “Please open a panel for yourselves.”

Watching his classmates, Leo worked up his nerve to grapple with the panel in front of him. Pulling it up and off, a jumbo shower-stall sized space with a bench and control panels was laid out in front of him, lights quickly activating. Carefully manoeuvring his bulk into the pod, Leon sat and tried to make sense of everything in front of him. Happily, his instructor took the ninja’s lack of experience into account. Crouching just outside the pod, Tuvok spoke loud enough for all to hear his directions, while giving Leo some show to go with his tell.

“If you are incapable of piloting the pod yourself, select auto pilot here and it will follow any other Starfleet pods in the vicinity.” He said, indicating the appropriate buttons. In a softer voice, Tuvok added, “Basic pilot training will be offered on another occasion.” Leo nodded his understanding and thanks. Resuming his instruction, the Vulcan explained their pod’s various functions, emergency supplies and S.O.P. when you find yourself having to abandon ship.

The training session wound down with a few extra questions from the kids, mostly Naomi, then everyone started to disperse. A quiet, “Mr Hamato?” held Leo back.

Given what he’d read about Vulcans, and how formal the man had been today, Leon decided to match his energy. “Yes Commander?” He realized that he’d unconsciously fallen into parade rest.

“Given your inexperience with our technology, you performed well today.” Tuvok commended, a calculating look in his eye.

Deciding to avoid the gaping wound of explaining Donnie, “The Doctor’s been showing me how to use stuff, especially med tech.” He huffed a bit, shifting his weight onto his left leg. “Pretty sure he’s trying to lure me into sickbay with shiny toys.”

The other man raised a pointed eyebrow. “Indeed. If you are feeling well enough, would you be willing to engage in an evaluation of your combat skills? As security chief, I am responsible for the crew’s ability to defend themselves in case of attack.”

Leo took a second to look within. He felt pretty much back up to snuff; would probably be healthier than he had been since childhood soon, what with proper nutrition and clean water finally available. Honestly, he’d gone into all out drag out fights with the Krang in much worse shape; a bit of sparring shouldn’t be a problem.

“Yeah, I’m up for it.”

Tuvok promptly led Leo back to the holodeck he’d been swimming in just this morning. Stopping at the door panel, the Vulcan intoned, “Computer, run Tuvok 3.” They walked into the holodeck, currently set up to look like what Leo guessed was a gymnasium or training centre. Starfleet grey walls loomed high overhead with lighting and handles hanging from the ceiling. Oooo, that’s some serious verticality. Benches lined the walls, a set of towels with water bottles on one nearby. Painted lines in various colours marked out shapes on the floor, likely different forms of training spaces/fighting rings. At least it didn’t SMELL like a gym. The dark-skinned man led them into a changeroom with handy workout clothes set aside from each of their replicated wardrobes.

Turning around to give the illusion of privacy, Leo changed into gym shorts and a tank top. “Ready?” Tuvok asked, which Leonardo took as a prompt to turn around and was greeted by the sight of his instructor in some form-fitting bicycle outfit thing. That does NOT look comfy. Wait, we’re gonna be grappling at some point….

So far, everyone had been good with Leo’s questions so, “Um, just to make sure I’m not thinking something I shouldn’t, I read up on the.. species I’ve met so far? And it said not to touch Vulcans?”

The other man’s face shifted ever so slightly; what that meant, Leo had no idea.

“Normally, you would be correct. It is polite to refrain from physical contact with Vulcans out of consideration for our touch telepathy.” Tuvok paused a moment, clearly watching to see how Leonardo would react to that tidbit. Oookay. Touches you, reads your mind. The slider did his best to keep his face politely neutral, not wanting to react badly to something that was just a natural ability.

Whatever the other man saw, he continued, “However, in combat situations, physical contact is generally unavoidable; it is therefore beneficial for Vulcans to practice shielding our minds under such circumstances.”

Leo nodded along, “Yeah, makes sense. I apologize in advance for anything that might squeak through.”

Tuvok dipped his head in acknowledgement. “I appreciate your sentiments, however they are unnecessary. I am experienced in blocking out the thoughts of others to the point that I can, in fact, use my telepathy in combat to read my opponents intentions when making contact. Please rest assured that I will not do this now with you.”

Oof, that’d suck to fight. “Thanks, shall we?” Gesturing out to the gym proper.

Tuvok first lead them through a warmup, stretching, then a series of slow movements reminiscent of katas though they weren’t any specific forms he was familiar with. The Commander kept an eagle eye on his companion throughout, watching for any hitches in movement or signs of overexertion. Leonardo heartily approved. In fact, during his entire stay so far, he’d seen many encouraging examples that the command officers cared genuinely for the welfare of their crew, making him feel more and more that staying on board was his best option.

Everyone had been kind, he hadn’t noticed any disfunction in the command structure yet, the federation crew with its many humans was the closest thing to a known entity to him in this universe…. Until I have a reason not to, it’s probably best that I commit to throwing my lot in with these guys. They’ll be more likely to trust me then too.

“Well done.” The older man said, drawing Leonardo back to the here and now. “Let us move on to sparring.” Wasting no time, Tuvok launched into an attack.

Reflexively, Leon fell into the comfortable routine of block, dodge, grapple and quickly realized he was going to win. The Vulcan was definitely stronger than any human Leo’d fought and certainly knew what he was doing but…. Leonardo was a genetically engineered super soldier, trained by a ninjitsu master and had over twenty years of nearly daily combat experience; it wasn’t even a contest.

Credit where credit is due though, Voyager’s security chief was determined. Over and over he’d get back up and reengage, then Leo would come up with another way to yeet him across the room. Twist his arms together, toss. Jump to grab the ceiling handles, wrap legs around his upper torso and let rip. Spin, sweep the legs then kick on the second time around.

For a moment, the ninja considered letting Tuvok pin him a couple times but dismissed it. This was an evaluation; Leo himself would’ve chewed out a recruit that didn’t give their all and skewed the results.

So, they continued, Tuvok trying every trick he knew, and Leonardo batting him around the gym like a playful kitten. At least the officer wasn’t getting angry or frustrated at his lack of success. This time he grabbed the other man’s arm, pivoted and slung the Vulcan over his shoulder to roll ten feet across the floor. I’m running out of ways to throw him. But this time, as Tuvok rose to his feet panting slightly, he didn’t come back for more. “Excellent Leonardo. Most impressive.” Eyes focussed on the clock over Leo’s shoulder, he added, “We have nearly expended the time allotted; I would suggest changing clothes and conversing further after.” The vulcan’s eyes flicked between Leo and the clock again, nervously? “Perhaps over lunch?”

Leon answered with a nod. “Alright.”

Nothing was really said as the two got changed and headed for the mess hall. HIs lifelong urge to break tension with babble bubbled in Leo’s chest, but he still wasn’t sure of what was appropriate with the other man yet, so he was choosing to match Tuvok’s energy. Happily, it wasn’t long before they were both seated in the mess hall, soup, HOT SOUP!, in front of them. The slider wasn’t thrilled with it’s flavor, but he was far from picky at this point in life.

Finally, the Vulcan set his spoon down for a moment. “I was greatly impressed with your combat skills, Leonardo. My security teams could benefit from such training. Would you be willing to teach them?”

The slider blinked rapidly a few times. It really shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did. One of Leo’s many duties in the resistance had been training troops whenever he had time, Casey, but he hadn’t expected so much so soon.

He’s giving you a chance Leon, don’t screw this up.

“Sure. I used to do that back home anyway. And I really do want to carry my weight.”

The Vulcan nodded once. “Excellent. It is good that you have previous experience as a trainer. I can rotate my staff through training sessions. Perhaps we could open it to the crew in general at a later date?” They spent the next hour or so hashing out a schedule that would allow for moderate progress while not overloading Leo as he learned and trained himself for life onboard.

Neelix thoughtfully brought them over some coffee with a wink and a smile towards the end. Wrapping his hands around the warm mug, Leon sipped, careful not to slurp. Tuvok also savored the warm beverage a moment. Oh right, Vulcans are from a desert world. He’s probably a little cold all the time too.

“I am impressed you were able to manage so many different responsibilities on your home world. A leader, teacher, soldier and medic. All of these require a great deal of time.”

Leonardo snorted after the older man finished. “Yeah well, it was kinda do or die.” Or do and die anyway. Ugly memories curdled in his stomach. We tried so hard and got so far… yadda, yadda, yadda.

It must have been written across his face or, y’know, the other man could put two and two together because Tuvok suddenly became even more solemn. “I grieve with thee.” He intoned; it sounded like a ritual response, “I cannot realistically imagine what you have endured Leonardo, but I have witnessed planet wide tragedies, even genocides, during my service in Starfleet. There are no words sufficient.”

Blinking rapidly, Leo wrestled his emotions, jaw grinding. “Thank you.” A sniff then, “You’re right. There’s no words. I just… there’s nothing left. An entire world of plants, animals and peoples… gone. Nothing left but Krang.” Damn chewing gum freaks.

“How did they..” His dinner companion trailed off, visibly effected for the first time the slider could tell.

“They’re parasites.” Voice gruff, Leo decided to take the route of a Doctor Donnie info dump. “Giant, nearly unkillable parasites.” Mikey nailed that one psycho though. “They appeared one day, huge portal over the city, their ship came through it and we were on the back foot from jump.” They hadn’t learned until later about the key and Leo’s world ending fumble. “The militaries tried but, the Krang just steamrolled right over them. Eventually we wound up fractured communities hiding underground around the world and trying to fight back as best we could with guerilla tactics. They spent the next twenty years grinding us into the dust.”

Tuvok granted him a minute of respite, contemplating the information before continuing his gentle interrogation. Honestly, Leo’d been half expecting this. It’d be stupid of them to not gather intel on a world killing threat. He was just grateful it was being done so kindly. Another point in their favor.

“Is there any chance that the Krang could follow you here from your Earth?”

Leo thought for a moment. “I mean, I don’t see how. They didn’t know what we were doing, and Mike’d never’ve let them through his portal.” He focused back on his lunch companion, “Honestly Commander, unless they exist in this universe too, I don’t think you have to worry about it.”

The security chief absorbed this, then, “In sickbay, when you first woke up, you said they ‘consumed everything’?” Tuvok prompted as Leon took another fortifying sip. He nodded before replying huskily, “Yeah. Like I said, they’re parasites. They can infect virtually anything, biological or technological. I..” he winced, hoping this came across right, “I met Seven and looked up…. Yeah. The Borg sound disturbingly familiar. Just.. less tech more fleshy goop.”

Horrified comprehension was apparent in Tuvok’s dark eyes. “Ah.”

“Yeah. Maybe if we had something like your tech… Well, at least we could’ve run then I guess.” Leo mused, absently twisting his mug on the tabletop.

“Many species have been forced to flee the Borg.” The security chief replied, “Others have gone into hiding, some truly impressive peoples held out for a time. Their shear numbers however..” He trailed off. “Developing defences against them has been a priority for all species we’ve encountered that know of the Collective. The Federation is fortunately quite distant from their established space and Voyager has been able to transmit valuable information from our encounters. Given enough time, we may be able to successfully resist them.”

How many times did Donnie say something like that?

Deciding not to compare, Leo lifted his mug a little, “Here’s hoping.”

That afternoon was spent exploring the panels of his quarters and contents thereof. As expected, the emergency kits were in their proper place and Leo ran through a quick review to make doubly sure that he’d retained this morning’s lesson. He also found a not unexpected mass of technology that he oh so carefully covered back up.

Grabbing his pad, Leo discovered two messages waiting for him. One an invitation from the Doctor to return to sick bay for another of their impromptu modern medicine lessons. The other an offer sent by Commander Chakotay to join a daily classroom to learn more about, well, being a person is this day and age. It was described as largely independent study with prewritten lessons and someone on hand to answer any questions. He promptly sent back affirmative to both. Anything to get more info and distract from less than pleasant thoughts constantly chasing each other around the periphery of his brain.

In the meantime, he had managed to work up a bit of a sweat this morning and wanted to smell half decent for dinner with people; time for a bath. Half an hour later he was happily soaking in his almost big enough tub. Pad carefully cradled against upper plastron, Leo had dug into the ship’s entertainment database. Thankfully, not all of it was holonovels and he’d found a trove of comedies to enjoy. He knew he wasn’t getting a good chunk of the jokes, missing necessary cultural context, but it was still nice to have that connection. Some things were near universal. He was especially happy to see a couple species he recognized. Hopefullly, consuming their media would help him to understand them at least a little better.

Chuckling as Hwond’a tried to convince Ashton that yes, fermented birds were a gesture of appreciation on his homeworld, Leon sank a little lower into the steaming water, wishing the tub was big enough to have his legs stretched out. Don’t get greedy Leo. Even on Voyager, this is a luxury.

After about twenty more minutes of soaking, it was time to set aside his pad and take up a scrub brush. After a thorough scrubbing, water change and rinse, he got out and towelled off thoroughly. Leo didn’t think he could pick up algae or an infection from the ship’s water, but no point risking it.

Stopping in front of the mirror, he took stock of his appearance. With better nutrition and hygiene, his stripes had started to stand out more and the natural colour of his scales was clearer, though it would take a couple sheds to look normal again. His scars were also more noticeable without a layer of grime to conceal them. Twenty years of war and about eighteen years with fairly aggressive brothers before that, that’s not fair, some are from April too, had left the turtle with a road map of lines, burns and pockmarks all over. Bullet scars suck, and so did Smith’s aim, trigger happy idiota.

Leonardo’s sides were filling out more, with good food and proper hydration; he wasn’t just skin and muscle stretched over a skeleton anymore. At least the shell hid the worst of it. Leo pondered his musculature though. Years of hard work had allowed him to pack extra muscle onto his naturally lean frame, but he hadn’t been able to keep it up since the last frantic days of the resistance, scrambling to survive as their only remaining base got dug out from above. I don’t really need to be a powerhouse anymore, but the arm….

The arm would be a problem. Built to Raphael’s specs at the age of just twenty, though he’d grown into larger models very quickly, it really was too big for what would probably be Leonardo’s natural build. Fighting hand to hand with the Krang unfortunately often resulted in them infecting a person’s dominant arm first. Fortunately though, that also meant that if the limb could be removed fast enough, the person themselves could be saved. There’d been a lot of people running around with replacement arms after about ten years. At least Leo and Raph had both been right-handed, allowing for a family member to reuse the valuable device. At the end of the day, if Leo wanted to keep using the arm Donnie made for their big brother, he’d need to maintain some bulk to carry and balance it out.

Training Tuvok’s people should help, but I’m going to need to set up a proper exercise routine. I’ll ask if there’s a gym on board or if I should replicate some exercise equipment. Maybe some resistance bands. The slider snorted to himself. At least I won’t have to use random pieces of rubble anymore.

Quickly getting dressed in jeans, tee and a hoodie, Boots Leo. Can’t run around barefoot anymore, he headed up to meet his now customary dinner companions. This time, he had no trouble navigating the nondescript halls to his destination. Yay! Progress!

Supper passed as usual. Tom and Harry were easy to talk with, though Harry was a little more reserved. Little glimpses of the temper Tom had mentioned in B’elanna showed occasionally, but she was clearly fighting it and much preferred to lean on a wicked sense of humor.

Leon learned that there was in fact a dedicated gym set up in an empty corner of cargo bay two, used on a first come first serve basis, and that it was established that you could jog in the outer corridor of deck five as long as you kept hull side and followed the arrows someone had carved into the wall to avoid collisions.

A proper routine was starting to take shape in Leo’s mind. Starting tomorrow.

He had another episode of Polar Opposites to watch before bed.

                Is this what the first day of school felt like for April?

                Memories flashed by of their nervous sister getting ready the night before every year, packing her bag with supplies and having Leo and Donnie helping her pick out her first impression fit. It was so minor compared to going on a mission, knowing he’d likely be fighting for his life before sunset but…

                Cleaned up after his way too early trip to the ship’s “gym”, thank you insomnia, Leo nervously straightened his hoodie, zipped it all the way up … all the way down….. halfway up showing off his bright blue shirt, he put his hands in his pockets and leaned on one leg. Yeah that looks good…. And promptly felt ridiculous. As long as I don’t look like a hot mess, no one’s gonna care Leo. Get over yourself. Grabbing his pad, the slider headed out.

                Last night he’d learned that there was a meeting room on deck ten that the various section heads used to have meetings with their departments. With Voyager’s unique situation, it was reserved at certain times to be used as a classroom. He’d also gotten some handy dandy directions to get there.

                Striding in a few minutes early, he found the same kids as yesterday along with a handful of other adults in their civvies. Must be off duty. Nodding a hello, Leo snagged himself a spot at the conference table that was a socially acceptable distance from everyone else. At least it wasn’t going to just be him and the ship’s children. That would get real awkward, real quick.

                Harry had explained that once they regained contact with Starfleet, some of the crew had decided to start taking academy courses for a variety of reasons; to improve their skills, work towards promotions or even just get commissioned so they could stay in Starfleet if they got home before retirement age.

                All conversations stopped the moment Commander Chakotay entered the room. “Hello everyone. I’m you’re assigned instructor this week. Start your lessons and let me know if you need any help.” Carrying his own pad and water bottle, the man pulled out a chair next to Leo himself. “Let’s get you setup and started.”

                Chakotay got Leo going on a series of basic tests to see where he was in terms of Federation educational requirements. His math and literacy skills tested out fine while their teacher went around the room helping his other students. Returning, Voyager’s second in command then helped Leo begin lessons that seemed to be geared towards people immigrating into the Federation; it’s history, a general overview of member worlds, etc. Looking ahead with Chakotay, there were other lessons the Commander had picked from school programs to teach children about technology and what would be considered essential knowledge in the various sciences that would likely make up the bulk of Leonardo’s schooling.

                Halfway through the morning, Chakotay called a washroom and refreshment break.

                Sipping from his bottle, the copper skinned man asked, “So what are you up to this afternoon?”

                “Doc asked me to come by Sickbay. He likes talking shop.” Leon replied, nibbling on a cookie that one of the other adults had thoughtfully brought to share. “He’s not subtle.”

                Chakotay chuckled to himself, deep laugh lines apparent. “No, no he is not. Personally, I think he’s a little lonely. He works alone most of the time and there’s no one else on board that’s really THAT interested in his field. I know its still early, but if you stay, have you given any thought to what you’d like to do?” He took a bite of his own snack.

                Pitching his voice to not be overheard, Leon answered. “I.. think I’m gonna stay.” Chakotay smiled encouragingly. “As for what I wanna do? I’ve been fighting for so long, I’d like a change of pace. Help make people feel better instead of just killing all the time, y’know?”

                “Yeah. I know.” Leo could tell, in the other man’s eyes and voice, he really did. The ninja remembered a moment later that B’elanna and Chakotay had been part of the other crew (terrorists?ish) that had joined Voyager at the start of their crazy trek across space. Maybe they hadn’t been in a twenty-year war, but they had seen serious combat. The Native American knew how that weighed you down and wore you away.

                “I’ve agreed to train people in ninjitsu with Commander Tuvok, and I’m happy to help defend the ship if needed, but I’d like to try my hand at assisting the Doctor.” The retired soldier said, nervously running a finger along the grey tabletop.

                “Well, let’s work towards that then.” Chakotay replied, voice soft.

                The rest of their class period passed without incident, followed by lunch and a productive afternoon in Sick Bay getting a thorough Starfleet first aid course with variations for the species on board. Leo had supper and then spent his evening in the ambiance of the mess hall reviewing his lessons for tomorrow. This looked to be his routine for the foreseeable future. Tame, relaxed, educational and relatively safe. Taking a break to watch stars streak by, Leo prayed that Casey was enjoying a life much the same. You deserve it kid. Sleep tight. Miss you.

                Leo sipped his tea, thinking about how it’d been a little over a month since his arrival onboard Voyager. The realization had struck him while preparing for today’s lessons; he’d noticed that he was done with his immigrant courses and only had a few proficiency tests in modern technology left to become the Doctor’s full-time student; further education in Federation science would be combined with that. Sure, he only really had a very broad understanding without much in the way of details now, but at least he didn’t feel so much like a reverse isekai anymore.

Looking outside, past his makeshift memorial, Leonardo watched stars streak by. Excitement had been building among the crew for the last few days. Tom had explained that today would be “mail day”. It was their once-a-month data stream with home; Voyager sending back messages, logs, really anything they’d recorded since last stream; receiving in return letters and any potentially helpful data Starfleet’s deep space arrays had collected. After years of no contact, that communication with family, friends and the familiar was like a stream flowing back into drought-stricken land.

Eyes refocussing, now on his own paltry reminders of those left behind, he couldn’t blame them. If I could talk to them, even just in letters… Shaking the thought away, Leon gulped down the last of his tea, disposed of his dishes in the replicator and headed out to morning lessons. No point in dwelling.

He needed to be mentally present today anyway, he was gonna learn to fly.

Within an hour Leonardo was sitting in a shuttle, trying to memorize every control asTom explained. It wasn’t as though he was being expected to become a regular pilot, Leo was just required to learn enough that if he was the only person available, he could get where he needed to go. Even then, it seemed rather involved. I could fly with a game controller, why don’t they have something like that? Resolutely ignoring his attempts at flying one of Donnie’s hovercraft, there’s no gravity in space, that means I can’t crash it right?

“You got that Leo?” Tom asked, eager grin in full bloom.

Leon swallowed, slipping into Leader mode to control his nerves. “Nope. Not even close.”

That earned him a laugh. “Yeah, it’s a bit much all at once, but this is just an introduction. We’ll start small.” The blond paused, hitting a button, “Paris to bridge, Sacajawea ready to depart.”

“Acknowledged.” Chakotay’s voice replied. “We’ll drop out of warp and proceed at impulse. Return in an hour.”

“Understood.” Tom replied, hitting a couple buttons. “Return in one hour. Sacajawea out.”

Sitting, waiting while the experts did their thing, Leo felt the pitch of the ship’s engines change for the first time since he arrived. That must be the “dropping out of warp”. There was still a subtle vibration, but it was definitely a different pitch than what he’d been learning to tune out.

After a moment, alarms started to sound, and the giant metal door ahead of their shuttle smoothly raised; a blue light quickly snapping in front of it. “What was that?” Leo asked, squinting to see particles occasionally flickering, like a huge bug zapper.

“Oh.” This is gonna be one of those common things they didn’t think to explain isn’t it? Leo thought, watching Tom startled out of his thoughts. “That’s a forcefield. Guess you haven’t seen one yet. It’s a charged particle field.”

Leo deliberately blinked a couple times for effect. “You say that like it explains anything.”

The pilot thought for a moment, softly laughing to himself. “Uh…. See through, temporary, wall of electric stuff that stings if you touch it? And you can change the settings to let somethings through but not all.”

“That’s better.” Leon answered with an imperious sniff.

“Alright, alright. Hold on.” Tom chuckled, as the great door ahead of them finally opened completely. Pushing a few more buttons, Leo heard the shuttle’s engines kick in and they started to move.

It felt like the starfield burst around them. One moment they were in the shuttle bay, next Leo was surrounded by more stars than he’d ever seen in his life. A riot of different colours and sizes, flickering in their dark void. Clumps shone brighter to one side, a pink/purple nebula hung distantly above. Then Tom swung the shuttle around.

Voyager. Another first, seeing the ship as it really was, not just a diagram or schematic on a screen. Grey, sleek; glowing … nacelles, they were called nacelles, propelling her forward, Leo stared at his new home, imprinting her on his mind.

It was weird, he’d spent most of his life in contained environments; the two sewer lairs and then innumerable underground bunkers hiding from the Krang. But he’d always had the option of OUTSIDE. There was somewhere else to go. Home gets found by enemies? Run away and find another hiding place. Here and now, Voyager was it; a ship no bigger than some of the apartment buildings Leo had played on as a child. And if something happened to it, too far from a decent planet… He suddenly felt very small and fragile, like staring down a giant Krang mech all on his own.

“Leo?” The ninja turned to see Tom looking at him, concerned. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah… just…” Leon looked around some more, really taking in how far they were from… anything. “We’re really on our own out here, aren’t we?”

Paris sighed, years, stress, memories and losses on his face for a moment, then it settled into iron resolve. “We are, but we’ve made it this far. We’ve got experience, and now we’re in contact with home. I know it’s a lot, but take it from me Leo, this crew can go the distance. You’re in good hands.”

How many times did I say something like that to a soldier after years of fighting the Krang? The difference was, Voyager wasn’t trapped. Wasn’t scrambling for rapidly dwindling supplies with an equally rapidly dwindling workface, surrounded by an ever-increasing enemy. Leo had spent decades cradling a flickering flame of hope, carefully nurturing what little there was to help his people keep limping along; Voyager gained more hope with every message from home, every new tech acquired and every inch closer to Earth they got.

Taking a deep centring breath, the student pilot turned to his teacher, “Well, we’ve only got an hour, so let’s get on with making me a productive member of society.”

Tom smirked, “Let’s.”

The next hour showed that lack of gravity did not, in fact, improve Leo’s flying skills. Turns out his bouncing around through portals and parkour was more akin to his slider nature than any arial ability he might have. Turtles weren’t meant to fly (except Donnie and Mikey, but that was more like hovering, shut up). In the end, it was a good thing they were in an open void and Tom had his own set of controls. Once they’d gotten back on board, he was treated to his friend sheepishly asking B’Elanna to send someone to fix a few burnt-out inertial dampeners on the shuttle, whatever that meant.

Walking to the mess hall, Leo felt Voyager shudder ever so slightly as the engines picked up. We must’ve gone back into warp.

As they strode into the mess hall, he noticed an immediate difference. It was quiet. Just the tinking of cutlery bumping dishes along with Neelix’s many pots boiling and spitting oil. Everyone was sitting and eating, but no one was talking. They were all reading. Every single person had a pad in hand, absently bringing food and drink to their mouths. Even Neelix was leaning on the counter, going over whatever messages he’d received in today’s mail.

Sitting down to eat, they had a few moments of stilted small talk, Tom squirming the whole time. Finally, Leonardo took pity on him. “Go read your mail, man.”

Pale eyes flicked up, startled and embarrassed. “No, no. It’s ok. There’s nothing that can’t wait.”

“I can eat on my own Tom, it’s not like I’m getting stood up at a restaurant. Imma big boy, go.” Leo smiled, gesturing to the nearest door with his head.

Flashing a big grin and a thanks, Paris took off, likely to grab his own pad; wherever he left it.

Polishing off his meal quickly, Leo disposed of their dishes and headed for his quarters, leaving the unnervingly quiet mess hall behind. Still having some time before he was supposed to report to sick bay, he decided to check if there were any updates or messages razzing him about his morning’s performance. Harry had specifically mentioned he’d be watching from the bridge, and probably laughing.

Pulling off his sweaty shirt, he traded it for the pad left on his bed. Flopping onto the couch, Leo started checking for updates and messages. There was one from Harry, giving him a 2/10 and telling him not to fly drunk, followed by another from B’elanna, chewing him out for being so hard on the shuttle. Leon smirked and sent a message back that she shouldn’t schedule maintenance on both the holodecks at once. There was a third message too, from a sender he didn’t recognize. The heck is the Daystrom Institute?

He read through the letter:

        Dear Mr Hamato (apologies if this does not conform to your naming conventions),

        I am writing to you from the Daystrom Institute, Lifeform Database Division.

        We would like to add any information, that you are willing to share, to our database. The purpose of our database is to make knowledge of all species known to the Federation, available to sapients; Federation citizens and otherwise. If you would like portions of the information you provide to remain confidential during your lifetime, that can certainly be arranged.

I eagerly await your response,

                                        Sincerely,

                                                        Dr Alphonse Hira, Daystrom Institute, Lifeform Database Division

        Well… he was planning on making a record of his world and all, it was just, kinda sudden? How do I even? Deep in thought, anxiety churning in his gut, Leo sat there for a time, trying to order his thoughts on how to tackle such a monumental task. Everything he knew about an entire world and its peoples… How do you do that justice?

He was determined to do his best though, to make sure they were remembered, that what they went through had an impact on someone, that they mattered. Leonardo could see it taking the rest of his life. So be it.

                Leo was unusually quiet today.

                While the turtle was perfectly capable of standing back and observing the Doctor treating patients, when it was just the two of them, they usually a pleasant flow of banter. There was none of that today.

                Standing at the central console, the Doctor’s student was dutifully completing his tasks, scheduling routine patient testing and exams according to the individual crewmembers’ needs. There was no stream of questions though, only a heavy atmosphere and dull eyes flicking across the screens. Perhaps it was an anniversary of some sort? Glancing up from his latest holonovel publisher’s letter, the Doctor decided it was time to see if there was anything he could do for his friend.

                Closing out the letter, the hologram got up from his desk and walked around into sickbay proper. “Is anyone giving you trouble about making appointments? Some of the crew practically have to be hunted down.” He very carefully didn’t name the Captain.

                “Hmm? Oh. No, it’s fine. Jus’ thinkin’.” Leo answered absently, then promptly got a loud error sound when he tried to enter his command. Huffing, the ninja closed his eyes and just stood there a moment, jaw twitching with frustration.

                “You need to do this first.” The Doctor quickly entered the correct command sequence, carefully watching his companion’s face.

                Eyes opening to watch, he nodded, still silent.

                “If something is bothering you,” the Doctor hesitantly began, “perhaps I could help you talk through it?”

                A dark eye slid sideways, contemplating the human façade. Eventually, Leo seemed to resign himself to talking. “I… got a letter today.”

                That was unexpected. “No offense, but who would be writing to you?”

                Leonardo replied to his incredulous question with a sardonic little snort. “That’s what I said.” Giving up on getting any work done, he turned to face the Doctor, leaning against the console. “What do you know about the Daystrom Institute?”

                “Ah. Them.”

                A raised eyebrow, ridge? Was his reward. “Well, that’s ominous.”

                The Doctor rolled his eyes, copying Leo’s relaxed lean. “They aren’t THAT bad. The Institute does an excellent job of researching, collecting information and making it available. The problem is that they can be… overzealous in their methods. Notably they’ve argued against artificial lifeforms being granted full rights of autonomy. I imagine they requested your life story, DNA and a record of everything you’ve ever learned?”

                Leo actually smiled a tad. “Not in those words exactly, but basically anything I could have to share. Said they’d keep stuff confidential ‘til I died if I wanted.”

                “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” The Doctor tried to reassure, “They have no authority over you, they can’t order you to comply. At most they could put in a request with Starfleet, but even then you aren’t a Starfleet officer, they can’t really order you to comply either.”

                “It’s not that.” Leo replied, looking to the ceiling. “I WANT there to be a record of my world, my family. I WANT them to be remembered, it’s just, a lot. How do you record everything you ever knew about… everything you knew?”

                The Doctor hummed, turning to the console again, continuing scheduling while they talked. “Well, how did you learn about everything you knew? Maybe start at YOUR beginning? Start with you.”

                “Huh. That’s an idea.” 

                The hologram smiled. “You’re not going to be able to focus until you get started. Why don’t you use my office, begin a draft. It doesn’t have to be everything in one go, you can do it in multiple letters over time; the Institute will likely have questions based on what you send. And our next transmission isn’t for a month anyway.”

                Leon took a step towards the office, then looked back. “Yeah. Do you think.. would it bother Neelix to ask how he went about it?”

                “Well,” The Doctor mused, “he’s always been happy to tell stories about his family. I don’t think it would hurt to ask.”

                “Ok.” The ninja replied with a small voice. The Doctor watched as his friend sat down at the hologram’s desk and started working on his letter. I also have a message to send the Institute regarding my patient, about TIMING.

                Chakotay froze as the Captain’s ready room door hissed shut behind him. The look in Kathryn’s eye as she glanced up froze his blood. He hadn’t seen her seething like this in a thankfully long time. “Bad news from home I take it?”

                She actually GROWLED and spun her desktop computer around for him to read while she recited, “From Starfleet Security. Captain Janeway, we have become aware that you have taken on a genetically augmented being as a member of your crew. Due to the ban on such individuals joining Starfleet, we are concerned about your newest member having access to Starfleet technology and information. Have you determined the full nature of his augmentations and the purpose of them? Recommend you restrict his access and shipboard movements… so on and so forth.” Kathryn launched out of her chair and walked around the desk to her replicator. “Coffee. Hot. Black.”

                “Ah.” Chakotay settled in to read it properly, going over the details his Captain had been too angry to convey. “There wouldn’t be much of anywhere for Leo to go if we follow these recommendations.”

                “I know!” She swung an arm up. “He’d essentially be confined to his quarters, corridors on the residential decks and the holodecks. Even the mess hall would likely be restricted as so many of the crew take pads with technical data there to have working lunches. I suppose we could ban that but… I’d rather not restrict anyone on this ship. Not when they’re likely to be with us for the duration,” the brunette wound down sadly.

                “Hmmm.” Chakotay hummed, finishing up the terse message. “Well….wouldn’t be the first time we’ve told Starfleet Security no,” he mused, thinking back on when they first made contact and the organization threw, an understandable, fit over Maquis terrorists crewing one of Starfleet’s newest vessels not to mention a former Borg drone running around.

                “Yes. We did do that. It’s not like they can enforce their orders here, though I’m not sure I’ll maintain my rank once we get back, or even my commission for that matter.” Janeway answered, sitting in the chair next to him, cradling her drink. “Chances are I’ll be ready to retire by that point anyway though.”

                He huffed a little laugh, pondering over their discussions on the future ramifications of some things they were doing out here in Delta Quadrant. Come to think of it… “Do you think… the civil rights lawyer that helped the Doctor get recognized as an artificial lifeform, do you think she might be able to help?”

                The Captain paused. “She did mention helping genetically engineered immigrants deal with prejudices they’d encountered in the Federation.”

                Mostly with humans. Chakotay remembered with shame. The wounds of the Eugenics War still run deep.

                Janeway took back her computer and began making notes. “I’ll send her a message in the next databurst. In the meantime, we should talk with Leo; explain the history of genetic engineering here and ask about the circumstances of it in his world. Perhaps it was a measure to combat these Krang invaders.”

                “Hopefully,” the first officer responded, “Starfleet Security would have a hard time arguing against that.”

                His hopes were dashed the next morning.

                Inviting Leo to the Captain’s ready room for breakfast, the command pair had explained the message they’d received and this Earth’s history with genetic engineering watching Leo become paler and paler the longer it went on. Eventually the turtle had set his breakfast aside entirely on the low table in front of him to lean forward, hands clasped in front of his chin.

                Chakotay could see the leader in him now. Emotions buckled down, eyes flicking back and forth as he took in new information and decided how to work with it. Those eyes closed the moment a decision was reached. Straightening up, Leo began to speak.

                “Starfleet Security is NOT going to like me.”

                Sharing a glance with the Captain, the former Maquis steeled himself, moving empty plate out of his lap.

                “My brothers and I were made for the express purpose of killing humans.”

                That’s not going to help at all.

                Leo huffed at the looks on their faces. “Obviously, we didn’t do that. Let me explain.” He settled back, natural hand fidgeting with the angular planes of his metal one. “On my Earth there were three types of people, yokai, human and mutant. The yokai came first, I’m not sure from where, there was this stuff called empyrean that they said was their source.” He waved a hand, not elaborating further. “Later, humans and yokai coexisted for awhile before humans became so numerous and aggressive that yokai went into hiding in underground cities. Eventually yokai faded into myth and it was mostly humans on the surface with the occasional yokai in disguise.”

                “I can’t imagine that all the yokai were happy with that state of affairs.” Kathryn interjected, sipping on her ever-present cup of coffee. Might be time to whisper in the Doctor’s ear again.

                “By our time, most were used to it.” Leonardo answered, eyes unfocussed, lost in his memories. “There were some that still remembered life before though, and were angry, and scared. They were afraid of what would happen when humans inevitably found them again.” His jaw worked a moment, “That’s where Baron Draxum came in.”

                “He had a very unhealthy dose of both. He thought humans would eventually wipe out the yokai and decided to be… proactive.”

                The two humans winced, all sorts of historical examples flashing through their minds.

                “Skipping over a LOT of details, he used the DNA of our human father, a martial arts expert, to make my three brothers and I. We were supposed to be the beginning of a mutant army to wipe out humanity.”

                Starfleet Security will never forgive us…. Oh, well. It was nice while it lasted.

                “Our human father escaped though, getting mutated himself in the process, grabbed us and ran. He raised us in the New York city underground, we made human friends, grew up and eventually ran into our creator again.”

                “How did that go?” Chakotay asked, getting up to retrieve some coffee for himself and Leo. They all needed something for this.

                “Uh… he threw me off a roof? About thirty stories up?”

                “Lovely.” Janeway commented with grim sarcasm, leaning back into her seat.

                Their storyteller outright laughed at that. “Oh, don’t worry, I never let him forget it. But we stopped him, he’d started just trying to convert all humans into animal mutants like us; and then my baby brother, Mikey, worked his magic.” His eyes were glossy now. “Michelangelo, the most amazing … he found Draxum after the battle, helpless and homeless. Got him to safety and TALKED him around. By the time the Krang came, the old goat was firmly on our side and a major reason why we survived as long as we did.” A couple tears slipped free, ignored as they fell.

                “Redeemed himself then?” Chakotay asked, handing over a cup of warm brew.

                Leo nodded his thanks and agreement, taking the mug. “He did. Even I considered him family by the end.” He shook his head, dismissing the memories. “Look, I get why humans would be spooked about a literal genetically engineered super soldier, what with your history and all, but I’m a person, with my own ability to choose who I want to be. What I was made for doesn’t matter. Heck, I ended up doing the complete opposite!”

                “I agree with you.” Captain Janeway firmly said, laying down her support as the ultimate Starfleet authority in the Delta Quadrant. “Individuals should be judged by their own choices, not the choices of others.”

She leaned forward, also placing her cup on the table. “There’s a precedent for genetically engineered individuals gaining Federation citizenship, though none have yet been permitted to enter Starfleet. The ban spawns entirely from Earth’s experience with the Augments and frankly, it’s not appropriate for one species to dictate such a thing to all others. It’s only happened because Earth was one of the four founding worlds and made it a condition of forming the Federation, every world since has agreed to the restrictions on genetic engineering since in order to join..”

                She leaned forward to pick up a pad off the table between them and hand it over. “There was a Tellarite civil rights lawyer we worked with, Tezra Sha, who helped the Doctor gain his rights as an artificial lifeform, only one of a handful currently recognized in the Federation. I’d be happy to write a letter of introduction for you to speak with her; I’m sure she’d relish the challenge.”

                He took the pad, starting to read over Sha’s bio, “I .. can’t afford a lawyer.”

                Chakotay smiled, “If you can communicate a need, the Federation provides an advocate. Don’t worry about it. Like we went over in your lessons, all necessities are provided to anyone within Federation boundaries, free of charge, only luxuries have a cost.”

                “Right. Right.” The turtle went back to reading, mulling over the new information. “I guess my answer to the Daystrom Institute is going on the back burner.”

                “The Daystrom Institute?”

                Floating in a hot bath, Leo did his best to let the stress go. Flow right out his stripes and into the bath….. that he was stewing in just like his brain was stewing in anxiety and pain and agh! Violently sitting up, some water splashed over the side. Why am I having a hard time with this? Stress has been my whole life since like, fourteen. The Captain promised that she won’t kick me out an airlock for being a weapon of mass destruction and I can take my time with the whole Daystrom thing. I could even have them keep it all secret until I die! No super soldier hunting mobs for me! But .. blurgh.

                As best he could with a shell, Leo flopped to hang arms down over the edge of his tub. It’s cause I’m safe now, isn’t it? Don’t have to focus on the fight just to stay alive so my brain’s like, “Hey, guess what we can deal with now? Allllll your issues!”

                The bath wasn’t cutting it. Getting out, drying off and throwing on a pair of shorts, the ninja contemplated an impromptu trip to the ship’s “gym”, since Commander Chakotay had given him the rest of the day off to deal with everything their mail drop had dumped on Voyager’s newest crewmember. He was just grabbing a t shirt when his door chimed.

                Striding over, shirt in hand, it whoosh open to reveal Tom Paris, dressed like he walked out of a Sherlock Holmes movie? “Uh.. hey Tom? Going to shoe a horse?”

                “Ha!” The human barked a laugh, “No, Harry and I have some time booked on the holodeck this afternoon and we wondered if you’d like to come.”

                Well, I did want a distraction. “I don’t have any clothes like that. Will that mess up your program?”

                The blond waved a hand. “Nah, we’ll start with a dressing room and you can pick something out. Don’t worry, this program is kinda.. unique anyway. C’mon, I’ll tell you on the way.”

                Shrugging into his shirt and grabbing his shoes, Leon followed his friend down the corridor, deliberately focussing on the info dump.

                “So this program is set in a nineteenth century Irish village called Fair Haven. It’s a relaxation program. Just walking around the village, interacting with its people, going to their businesses, stuff like that. We had a problem with the program a few years ago that meant the holograms became aware that we weren’t regular people, so now the characters think we’re visiting time travellers.”

                Double reverse isekai…. “Okaaayyy… and how are these characters different from the Doctor?”

                “He’s way more advanced, and if you try to have them move too much beyond their parameters, the character’s programs would glitch so much they’d break down. The Doc almost had that happen a couple times actually, but he managed to work through it. It’s like comparing a monkey and a human; they can reach a certain point but can’t measure up to what a human can do.” The dark tweed clad man explained, dodging some crewmembers to enter a turbolift.

                “So… when they look at me they’ll see… me, and be like, ‘Oh, new alien boy is giant turtle, cool. Anyway?’” Leo asked, bracing against the motion of the lift.

                “Pretty much,” Tom bounced a bit, clearly excited, “You might get some funny looks and grumbles, but no hostility. Just let me do the talking.”

                Leon raised an eye, “I get the feeling you say that a lot.”

                Slipping into a fake Irish accent, his mischievous companion replied, “I’ve got the gift of the gab boyo.”

                This is gonna be interesting.

[kinetic-elaboration]

July 4: Princess Mechanic, Blunt

A little character study of Raven and Clarke, set somewhere in an alternate-S4-era (less Drama, more Community Building, etc. etc.).

This was written for the prompt "Blunt and its antonyms (sharp, polite, subtle, tactful)" for July Break Bingo 2023 (@julybreakbingo).

~950 words, written in about 35 minutes

*

The Engineering department has no use for politeness or tact, and Raven, steeped in this culture since her training began, has now risen to the top of its hierarchy. She sees tasks that need to be done and she gets them done. She gives orders. She is blunt.

She's found this language suits her well. No time wasted in reading between the lines or trying to gauge hidden meaning tucked away within tone. No uncertainty. More important than the efficiency is the comfort in it, how it creates something steady she can walk upon without wavering.

Recently, then, she's realized that she loves Clarke best when she is blunt, too. Usually, she drops the pretense and the politics only when her nerves are frayed, when she's particularly scared or especially frustrated, or when all her other tactics have run out and all that's left is blunt force. They've fought in those moods before. But there's a thrill in it and a clarity to the air after the emotions burn out. There's a frank and open expression to Clarke's eyes that feels like honesty and trust.

Makes Raven think they're getting somewhere, anyway.

Clarke sits on the council now. She's reached the top of her area of expertise, as Raven has, because of a unique and random confluence of tragedy and chance. Too many of the real adults are gone now. And competence matters more than age on the ground. They carry an experience that none of their elders ever will: the raw, straggling, clawing desperation of survival without resources, in the shadow of uncertainty, fear, and war. Can't make up for that with Earth Skills classes or computer simulations or instructions memorized from books. And anyway, the kids aren’t so young anymore.

So all of them are treated in a certain sense like royalty, or at least like a group set apart. The hundred. The forward guard, the remainder. Bringing on the changing of the generations a little early, heading sub-departments, departments, barking out instructions, standing in authority. She feels uncertain in the role sometimes herself, but at least when she's settled on a project, she knows her worth. From there it's not so hard to boss others around. Odder still is to see her friends, people she still thinks of as the underdogs, leading scouting teams or organizing farming projects or drawing up plans for new buildings. Making Arkadia over in their image.

When she catches sight of Clarke leaving council meetings, the oddest part is that the others are people Raven hardly knows. Yes, Clarke should be in charge. And only Clarke, and the people she trusts. She tramps down the hall with such confidence, her chin up, her expression unreadable.

In council meetings, she speaks with precision, mixed in with authority: assured but polite. Tactful, always. There's just a certain way, she's explained, that things get done, and it has to do with not making enemies. Really it has to do, Raven thinks, with playing people like fiddles. Reading their weaknesses, exploiting them. That's what Clarke's an expert in, more than anything else; Raven's seen it in her in their quietest moments, the way Clarke's eyes search hers, the long silences gathering up in the dusk, the careful way she picks out all her words. Her voice grows quiet, confessional, and soft. Time moves slow. Her hands squeeze Raven's so tightly, she's sure all the meaning in the world fits there in the press of skin against skin. Some illegible meaning in a language no one's ever taught her, because damn, it was never this complicated with Finn.

A solid week of unclouded skies and strong sun has baked the muddy paths of the settlement into cracked, hard dirt, when the latest trading mission sets out from Arkadia. Raven approaches the Rover just as Clarke is packing the last of the bags in the back. Clarke smiles when she catches sight of her, a genuine, bright smile that erases the tight furrows previously etched across her brow.

"Are you coming?" she asks.

"To talk diplomacy with a bunch of Grounders?" Raven rolls her eyes. She stops up short just next to the Rover, leans all her weight on her stronger leg, her hand against the dusty, hot metal of the back door. For a moment, she takes Clarke in as if she were trying to memorize her. "Not really my thing."

"Just wanted to see us off?"

See you off, Raven thinks. One of them should say it, but she shrugs. "I know you're not leaving yet, but I didn't want to miss you."

"We might get an early start."

Clarke's good with the Grounders, most of the time—not good like Octavia is, inserting herself, mutating herself, becoming one of them—she's not adept at their culture and she never cedes ground. But she's good at finding what the other side wants and then granting it for a price: the definition of negotiation and bargaining. If Raven could be bought, now, what would be the cost? She rolls the question around in her mind, wondering all at once if it's ever crossed Clarke's.

She reaches out her hand and slides her palm against Clarke's, and Clarke links their fingers with a tight, protective hold. Just say it. Just say it. I'll miss you; I want you. You should come, so that you can be with me.

Clarke's smile has softened, faded, the expression around her eyes now wistful and sad. Then she squeezes Raven's hand extra tight, and leans in, and kisses her once, not quite on the lips. "I'll see you," she promises, "when I get back," and the words could mean anything at all.

[knightly-bastard]

Nexo Knight Swap Au Concepts Part 3

I finally got around to designing Robin and ava (+ Swap Fletcher and Izzy) So here they are!

Swap! Robin is still the hyperactive determined kid that we all know and love, however, he partakes in coding instead of machinery since his father switched professions. He is in charge of all the nexo downloads, particularly being the one to name the spells since nexo magic is pretty new to Swap! Monstrox himself so there wasn’t names for them in the first place. The thing on his forearm allows his to connect to his tech work at any point, kinda a replacement for canon Ava’s tablet. The thing on his eye is just to merely look cool, while it can show him some code, it’s more for aesthetic purposes.  Swap! Ava is a menace to society. She is the main engineer within the Nexo Knights, still with the particular mindset that tech is better than magic. While being in robins place she does tend to make brash decisions, mainly since she felt the need to step up during the events like the Deception book and the whole spy shtick. She multitasks using her robotic arms, allowing her to work more efficiently on upgrades for weapons and armor. she can also shoot lasers out of them when she needs too. She also was the one to make Swap! Jestro’s new armor that helped him fit in with the rest of the knights. They didn’t swap colors cause their clothing are different enough to make a proper swap design. And for a bonus, Swap Fletcher and Izzy!

Swap! Fletcher actually knows Clay is his brother, so he is dubbed "Fletcher Morrington" instead of Fletcher Bowman. When he was little and Clay was leaving to go to the academy, Clay promised after he graduates that he would come to visit, and one day he'll personally get Fletcher into the knight's program...of course, that never happened. Due to the knowledge of him actually being Clay's brother, he was feared and bullied among the other kids at the orphanage since they kept associating him with his brother. This eventually lead to him having a slight resentment to Clay, for becoming evil and for breaking his promise. The relationship between the two is rocky for sure, but it would begin to heal during the course of season 5-6. He wears that hood to mainly hide his face in fear of others associating him with Clay even more. He still has magic btw, that plotline still exists.  Swap Izzy's psudo name is "Izzy Spearmond" (Izzy being her actual name now) after and incident that lead Izzy to be separated at birth. She lived her life thinking she was another orphan, but unbeknownst to her she is technically “the lost princess” of the kingdom...however the King and Queen kinda...forgot. They more so swept the whole incident under the rug to prevent any tarnish on the family name/ presumes Izzy was just dead. Sure they grieved, but they got over it rather quickly. Anyway, she had a drive to be a knight, still looking up to Macy as inspiration to be one. Swap Izzy’s story i’m still on the fence about, so maybe it will change in the future. (So will Swap Fletch’s and Izzy’s designs, I’m not that proud of them)

[cerenemuxse]

this is more messy post than usual but its basically Edward and Emily in EoSR x Hazbin Hotel :p (feeling tired but that's not stopping me from rambling when i feel like it >:3)

I didn't mention this so I'll mention it now. I was thinking about how when sinners die, they initially appear in their human forms. However, as time goes on, they start to mutate into their regular demon forms. It takes a bit more for them to develop their feral demon forms.

Just know that the feral demon forms do appear in the nude because 1) I can't make the clothes work out, and 2) they look cooler ok? (everyone is over the age of 18 because the feral demon forms do look human-like. Bill and Ben, the youngest in the AU, were 19 years old when they died)

I did give them accessories, specifically jewelry because I feel like it would put a bigger emphasize on the hiearchy. Overlords and those associated with them have jewelry.

OK now onto Edward and Emily

So both actually died within the span of year from one another. Emily died in 1895 while Edward died in 1896 (fun fact: these dates are taken from an old AU of mine where the engines were possessed by spirits, hence why they were alive but I got rid of it)

Oh, and Emily is either a snake or dragon. Still figuring it out.

Instead of competing against each other, they actually teamed up as overlords, upcoming or old, were repeatedly putting them down. This puts them ahead of everyone as they claimed more territory quickly and more efficiently. They were becoming the most feared, even more when Edward won against James, another competitive sinner, and established his weapon business. I'm not entirely sure what

Emily is more efficient in far range battle than Edward is. A lot of the weapons she owns are of Edward's earliest designs, before adding angelic steel to them. Still trying to figure out what industry she owns. :v Maybe something to do with sports? Yeah, I have no idea. 🧍‍♀️

anyways, um- i might put them together and actually have James be killed off. I might. Still thinking about it.