lorichu

[lorichu]

Through the Gate

Here's a little something a wrote for @gtypewriter, featuring the characters Kane, Dr. Eliza Houghton, and Commander Cade from his Gatekeeper series in my story, Over the Wall. Enjoy!

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Living in Nettles had desensitized Jay to most of the sounds that went bump in the night, but the distantly rhythmic thump-thump on the front door couldn't be ignored for a second time. She wiggled her way out of Collin's sleep loosened grasp and crawled over to the center of his chest. Must like her, he'd grown accustomed to her tiny movements and adjustments, so she needed to put all of her strength into pushing against him with both of her hands.

"Collin!" Jay called out. "Someone's at the door!"

His still closed eyes pinched together, and a low, rolling groan rumbled beneath Jay as Collin woke up. Even half asleep, he knew better than to thoughtlessly move about and slowly brought one hand to his face to rub his eyes while the other went for Jay. Groggy fingers gently looped around her midsection and half carried, half nudged her into his shirt's chest pocket. Once she was inside, Collin carefully sat up and opened his eyes with the same haste as he swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand.

Collin made good use of the short walk through his house and paused for only a few seconds when he reached the door to put the last few scattered pieces of consciousness back in their proper places before engaging whoever was on the other side. The list of probable visitors at this hour was so short that he wasn't at all surprised when he found Chief Victor waiting for him.

"Evening, or maybe morning, Chief," Collin mumbled, his brain and body still struggling against their mismatched levels of functionality.

Victor chuckled. "Probably morning." He gave the younger Scout a quick once over and nodded to himself. "Is Ranger South with you?"

Taking his hand off the doorknob, Collin rested a few fingers over his pocket. "Is something wrong?"

Uncertainty was not an emotion the Chief wore lightly, and as he shook his head, he stepped backwards off Collin's short porch to gesture towards Trevor a few paces back. "Not entirely sure, but we're going to find out."

Vague and ominous as it was, Collin didn't need a further explanation to follow the Chief. He knelt down to fully tie his boots, then stepped out into the chilled, way too early morning air and shut the door behind him. Jay huddled against him when the wind picked up, but didn't raise any complaints about having her sleep cut short.

Their dedication to Nettles and its people came first.

In an interesting twist, Victor began walking away from the center of town instead of going towards it. Not missing a beat Collin followed, but his thoughts lingered on the decision. 'If not HQ, then where?' he mused, feeling Jay poke her head out of his pocket while not glancing down to engage with her. 'There's nothing but ruins and unsalvageable trash in that direction.' Still, he didn't argue or bother to raise a question. The Chief always had a reason for his choices and would wait for the right time to share them.

After they'd been walking in silence for a couple of minutes, Victor slowed his pace to allow the younger Scouts to fall into step beside him. His steeled gaze stayed locked ahead of him, though it was tilted slightly up at the night sky. "I received an anonymous tip about a half hour ago," Chief Victor began softly, "from a restricted internal line."

"Internal?" Trevor repeated, skipping ahead a step to avoid a jutting chunk of concrete. "Like, from inside Nettles?"

Victor shook his head. "Internal as in a different government department."

Having just caught his balance after tripping over a stick he didn't see in time, Collin lowered his hand from his pocket. "How do you know that? And aren't the towers and the Colonel the only ones with clearance to contact us?"

"All I can say for certain is that the code masking the number matched up with my records, and the woman I spoke with already knew who I was." Chief Victor's eyes grew distant, and he sighed quietly through his nose. "She called to tell me there was going to be, in her words, an unrequested and very much off the books delivery being made within the town borders. She also claimed it wasn't inherently dangerous or a threat to any of us, but that if we didn't get out ahead of the confusion, the situation could change very quickly."

Jay braced herself against the side of the pocket and folded her arms over the lip. 'Sounds like someone's trying to cover up a problem they don't want to deal with by dumping it on us.' Normally she had no problem chiming in with her two cents, but like this her words would just get lost if she didn't scream her throat raw. 'Whoever it is must've made their fair share of enemies if someone is willing to break protocol by contacting the Chief to subvert them.'

A quick cough got them back to attention, and Victor broadened his shoulders as he slowed to a more definite stop. They'd just crossed over the line of what was usually considered the town's "boarder", leaving them right on the edge of a wasteland of crumbled brick walls, rusted out shells of cars, and more grass than pavement. "The only other tidbit she gave me was that it would be an airdrop," Victor said with a huff. "Since this is meant probably to be a covert mission, they'll likely be armed to the teeth with stealth tech and sensors, meaning we should lie low until they're well out of range."

"Wait, so we're just gonna let them do it?!" Trevor blurted out. "Why the hell would-!"

Victor raised a hand, and the rant cut off. "Even if they have information about us, it is still our duty to keep ourselves hidden and protect Nettles. That much is our responsibility. Always has been." Years spread out like ripples around the Chief's eyes, and he gave a tired sigh. "Just because they're willing to abuse our secret doesn't mean I am."

Sound as the logic was, Trevor still wasn't satisfied. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, only to be silenced once again by Collin lifting a hand into the air. This, however, was more of an alert than a deliberate hush, because Collin had raised a single finger. "Do you hear that?" he whispered.

Jay had. "Sounds like engines," she offered, straining to project her voice despite the obvious need for extra caution. "And not like a car, but turbines, on planes."

Nodding sternly, the Chief took a step backwards and pivoted in the same motion. "We need cover. Fan out but stay close."

Posting up behind the crumbling remains of a long-collapsed building's wall, Collin peered through a hole in the bricks as the sound got louder. A light tap on his chest shifted his gaze back down to Jay, who then directed him up at the sky. Large dark shapes blocked out the stars on this cloudless night. Together they followed the fleet of aircraft, and the cargo suspended beneath them, as they maneuvered over to the tree line. The squad made a sharp, helicopter like descent straight down, then released their cables to cut themselves free from the large wooden crate the four of them had been carrying. Free of the weight, they zipped off into the night without so much as a glance backwards. Mission accomplished.

Cloaked in darkness themselves, the Scouts and Chief silently crept out of hiding and formed a loose semicircle as they advanced. The crate itself hadn't moved, but they'd all seen subtle movement inside through the open top, which had caught their eye after the bold, blocky number "13" plastered on the side of the surprisingly thick walls. Despite all being completely unprepared to deal with any sort of major threat, they kept pace and didn't break stride. Whatever was in there, they'd handle it.

Two red pinpricks appeared in the shadows, their glow cutting through the dimness like a pair of spotlights. Their quick movements and the way they narrowed ever so slightly were warning enough, preparing the Scouts, Chief, and Ranger for when a humanoid form began lifting itself up. Clawed fingertips dug into the wood, leaving deep gauges in their wake as the being crawled out of the crate and dropped into a low, almost animalistic crouch.

Collin's guard lowered as his brain worked through what he was seeing. This was someone their size, from the outside. How was that possible? Why would anyone, much less the government, make more giants when they could barely begrudge themselves to take care of the ones they'd created by accident? What did this mean? What was going on?

Driven purely by his curiosity he kept walking forward, only to be forced to abruptly stop dead in his tracks when the new giant growled. This showed a mouth of sharp pointed fangs, mirroring their clearly powerful clawed hands and feet. They hunched lower, widening their stance in preparation to attack.

"You're scaring him." Jay's quiet statement punched through the tension thinned air, startling all of the giants.

Too many conflicting emotions had blended together to give Collin's snorted chuckle any sort of discernable flavor. "How exactly? We're unarmed and basically the same size?"

"Right," Jay replied shortly. "And how many people his size do you think he's seen?"

Trevor and Chief Victor muttered their agreements amongst themselves, but Collin wasn't biting. "Ok, so what're we supposed to do about that?"

"Put me down so I can talk to him."

Something somewhere inside Collin's brain snapped. "Absolutely not!" he barked. The new giant hunched lower to the ground and let out another cautionary growl. "Just look at him, Jay! He's a-"

"A what, Collin?" Jay'd flinched involuntarily at his volume, but it hadn't broken her resolve. "A monster? Like you?"

Collin's jaw clenched, transforming his voice into a rasping hiss. "Jacklyn..."

Doubling down, Jay puffed up her chest. "I don't need your permission, you know. I'm your colleague, not your subordinate."

She practically vaulted over the lip of the pocket and had already made it about halfway down Collin's shirt before his hands caught up with her. "Jesus, Jay. You're allowed to be stubborn, not stupid." It took no effort to break her grip as he gathered her up with a single hand, but instead of returning her to his pocket like he wanted, Collin lowered Jay to the ground and completely pulled back.

Her silent thanks were given in the form of a softer look, but once she turned her back to Collin, Jay was all business. Right away she noticed a change in their visitor. He looked calmer, but not in an at ease sort of way. This was confidence, pure and simple. The Scouts were an unknown he couldn't fully account for, but someone like Jay was clearly familiar territory, for better or worse. He knew he could handle anything she threw at him.

Stricken with a fresh dose of fear, Jay struggled to swallow it down and put on her simplest smile. "Hey, it's ok. A lot's happened, and you're confused. So are we, but we're not here to hurt you. No one has to get hurt for us to understand what's going on." It felt almost insane attempting to be a comforting presence to someone so much bigger, but Jay powered through. "I'm Jacklyn, or Jay for short. That's Collin," she jerked a thumb over her shoulder, "and back there's Trevor and Victor." The air felt clearer, and it was easier to breathe in this simpler space. "Can I ask what your name is?"

By pulling his limbs in closer, the giant made a consorted effort to appear smaller. Perhaps even for Jay's benefit. "Kane," he murmured in a deep voice laced with a surprising amount of gentleness. "Where are we?"

The fact that he was willing to engage eased Jay's frantic heart. "It's nice to meet you, Kane, and we're on the outskirts of a town called Nettles."

Red eyes snapped open wide. "Nettles?" Kane repeated. "You mean it's a place?"

Chief Victor shuffled closer but made a specific point not to move past Collin. "So, you have heard of us." Lifting a hand to his face, Victor rubbed his stubbled chin. "I guess I'm at least a little relieved that there's a connection."

"Connection to what, Chief?" Trevor asked, following his superior's example to a T. "What're you talking about?"

Sparing the Scout a momentary glance, Victor returned his focus to their guest. "Kane, how do you know about Nettles?"

The Chief's stern but unaccusing tone loosened the sharp set of Kane's shoulders. "It was something that always got listed whenever they were running tests," he explained. "No one ever told me what any of that stuff meant, so I always just assumed it was a codename or something for whatever they did to me."

"You're probably right," Victor went on. "I think in the very broadest of terms it's safe to say the tragedy that befell our town was not the end of that research. However, without deeper insight, I can't say for sure how closely connected the two are."

When Kane started to sit up, he was acutely aware that everyone had started staring at him again, but he didn't linger on it. He'd gotten used to people watching his every move. Who he chose to focus on was Jay, still standing tall just a few paces away from him. She'd hardly batted an eye at his movements, even as he started to reach into the shallow pocket of his body suit. "I might know how to get you that," he said quietly. Between his fingers was a battered, hardcover book that he set down a short distance in front of Jay. "Dr. Houghton gave me this before they took me away. I couldn't see what she was writing in it though."

Jay heard all the unvoiced arguments buzzing behind her as she went to retrieve the book. It was an encyclopedia, volume "G", that was clearly a part of a well-traveled set. There was one dogeared page, so Jay wasted no time and flipped right to it. Hastily scribbled over the entries in ballpoint pen was a message. "Dr. Eliza Houghton, Sect. 13, R&D". Below that was a phone number with an area code Jay didn't recognize.

"Looks like I've got a call to make," she chuckled, turning around to face the others while brandishing the book. "Maybe she was even the one who tipped us off about-"

Branches snapped and leaves rustled.

The force bulldozing behind the destruction hadn't levied a single thought to the obvious noise its charge was making, which meant it could only be the work of one stubbornly single-minded creature: a crag boar. Geralt might have been the nastiest among them, but that didn't mean the rest of them were serene, herbivoric pacifists. If anything, Geralt's death had broken down the doors of their worst impulses and had made the remaining population even wilder and more vicious as a result. This was why deliveries were always made well within Nettles' official, well-guarded borders.

Curved ivory white tusks poked through the underbrush first, followed by a scar-nicked snout and a pair of black, beady eyes. That dark glare quickly took the scene in, passing right over Kane to lock squarely on Jay, the clearly much easier target.

Fear lodged itself in Collin's throat as he ran through calculations at the same breakneck pace. She was too far away. He'd never reach her in time. Before the boar's hoof had even lifted off the ground, his voice tore into the frozen air. "Jacklyn!!"

Kane became a blur, moving in the nanoseconds between heartbeats to position himself in a tense ready stance above Jay. His left hand was rooted firmly in the ground next to her, claws digging deep gouges in the dirt to balance himself while his right hand was splayed and pointed directly at the boar. Like with most other challengers, the beast did not care. It let out a bellowing squeal and resumed its charge with fully tunneled focus.

What it didn't realize is that the moment it was within arm reach it was already far too late.

In a flash claws were at its throat, tearing right through its thick, bristly hide with ease to draw out a vaporous shower of crimson. Blood gurgled in its wail, drowning its once powerful voice. With a flick of Kane's wrist, he pulled away and sent the beast teetering off balance to crash into the leaf and rubble strewn ground. Muscle spasms jerked its stubby legs through the steps of an ever-slowing death waltz. One final, burbling squeal graced the night sky before silence fell once again.

Each heavy breath from Kane thumped like a beating drum in the stillness that followed. It was only once he finally broke out of his defensive stance that anyone else remembered how to move, and while he was aware that the Scouts were hurrying towards him, Kane's focus was on the woman almost cowering in his shadow.

"Are you ok?" he asked bluntly as he shifted away from her to take a seat.

The shell of Jay's fear cracked like spring thinned ice, snapping her out of her memories. A quick tremor passed through her entire body, and she had no trouble meeting the now softer gaze of those intensely red eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks to you."

Collin and Trevor both dropped down to crouch beside them. Having already heard the answer they needed, they simply basked in the relief that came with certainty. Chief Victor joined the little huddle in a much calmer fashion, though he remained standing. "I know I speak for us all when I say you have our deepest thanks, Kane," Victor said once he felt the moment had been sufficiently appreciated. "If you found yourself looking for a position as a Scout or even just part of the town patrol, any of us would be happy to have you."

Wide red eyes rapidly blinked a few times. "I can stay?"

Victor raised an eyebrow as he huffed a chuckle. "Of course. We were never going to turn you away. Origins aside, you're here now. You're one of us."

That affirmation broke down the last few lingering barriers, but it wasn't something they could afford to wallow in for long. Dawn was coming, and they suddenly had a lot of work to do. In order to accomplish everything in a timely matter, it was best to divide and conquer. Victor and Collin trekked back to the main offices at town hall, drafting their reports on the way so they could inform the Colonel and the wall what had happened. Jay, Trevor, and Kane splintered off at Collin's house, both to clean Kane up and get him something to eat, and to contact this mysterious Dr. Houghton.

Accepting the role of "host", Trevor got to work on fixing them all some breakfast while Jay and Kane sat at the table, staring anxiously at her phone. The Ranger's mind was buzzing in a million different directions at once while it rang. She was terrified of what might happen if this lead went cold, but for now, all they could do was wait.

Even though it had felt like an eternity, in reality, the phone was only left to ring four times before the call was picked up. "Dr. Eliza Houghton speaking," a kind but extremely tired sounding voice answered promptly.

Jay snapped out of her daze and reflexively sat up straighter. "Good morning, Dr. Houghton. I'm sorry for bothering you so early, but I really appreciate you making the time." Sending a quick glance up to Kane, she smiled. "My name's Jacklyn South, and I'm the current Ranger in Residence stationed in Nettles. I'm calling to both thank you for your assistance and to confirm that we received the... um, package."

Dr. Houghton's relief crashed down like a tidal wave. "While I appreciate your discretion, Jacklyn, this is a private line. You can speak freely." She laughed and let out a quiet oomf as she collapsed into a seat. "How is he?"

"I'm fine," Kane answered for himself. "Still confused, but fine."

They could hear her smile grow. "It's so good to hear your voice, Kane."

"Yours too." Kane's grin was small, but sweet.

Now it just felt like Jay was intruding on something very personal, but she still had a job to do so that discomfort could wait to be unpacked. "I was actually hoping, Dr. Houghton, that you could tell us more about all this?" Everyone was counting on her to stay focused on the task at hand. "As it stands, we don't actually know the how or why any of this even happened."

"Right, right, of course." Dr. Houghton cleared her throat and sharpened back to the intensity she'd answered the phone with. "And please, call me Eliza. It's simpler."

Things were moving again, maybe a little fast, but it was a good start. "Jay works fine for me."

Another softer, knowing smile touched Eliza's voice. "Alright, Jay. I hope you're ready for this because it's a lot to stomach. Though," she chuckled, "given your current employment, I'm sure you're well versed in handling the strange and abnormal."

Having just joined them at the table, Trevor made a quiet sound of protest. Quickly covering her reaction, Jay let go of the tension between her shoulders. "Don't worry about me. I'm pretty light on my feet."

While Jay hadn't actually been prepared for the steep drop off into the deep end, she didn't get swept under. Eliza started way back at the beginning to touch on Sector 13's founding, which had in fact been tied to the Nettles disaster. Not only had the research that caused the accident proved fruitful, but now that there was a town and surrounding forest filled with giants, preventative measures needed to be taken. Initially that had really just been it, counter measures.

"However," Eliza went on after pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee, "none of that ended up being necessary. When it became clear that Nettles was open to peaceful cooperation and, to an extent, coexistence, the top brass had to pivot. Over time that led to the program that produced Kane, and that only happened over the past ten years or so."

Jay was so glad she had Trevor here too in case she forgot something. "But if this program's been around for so long, why did this happen now? What changed?"

The length of Eliza's next pause was rather telling on its own, as was her drawn out sigh. "Terrible as it is to say, funding." She took another long drink from her mug. It was already half empty. "After Kane, all progress and forward momentum ground to a halt. Why would we bother with any iteration when there's no practical use for what we're doing? Enough time passed, people got impatient for new results, and eventually someone had to answer for where all the money went."

Eliza huffed and sunk deeper into her chair. "That was a meeting I know I'll never forget. The Commander called us all together in the middle of the day to break the news, and some young, hotshot nobody stepped way outta line and brought up a long defunct mech program the Sector used to work on. They had no idea the breadth of the minefield they'd marched into, and after getting a thorough verbal lashing, they slunk out of the meeting room with a face redder than Kane's eyes. Doubt we'll ever hear from them again."

Glancing up, Jay and Trevor shared a quick look. "Um, Doctor...?"

"Sorry, unrelated side tangent," Eliza muttered. "As I was saying, that meeting ended with the only acceptable solution anyone could think of: removing our most expensive asset, Kane, from the books, and washing our hands of the project for good. It was a tough choice that no one wanted to make, but if we didn't do something, a decision would be made for us. The Commander eventually made the call to take advantage of your town's... unique situation in the hopes it would mitigate the potential harm."

Kane growled, but continued silently eating the meager meal Trevor had thrown together for him. The other two portions remained untouched. "Having a singular common "enemy" will make things a lot easier," the tired Scout mumbled as he wiped his face. "Gives us something specific to aim at."

Eliza's mug landed on the table with a heavy thunk. "Enemy?" she balked, her voice rising. "Did you listen to anything I just said? Has Nettles been biding its time all these years for a chance to strike? Was your promise of peace truly that thin?"

"No one's going to attack!" Jay interjected. All the hairs on the back of her neck were on end, and an unshakable antsy-ness danced along her skin. "At least, no one from Nettles anyway. What I believe Trevor is trying to say is that Chief Victor isn't going to just let this slide. Nettles isn't a dumping ground, and he's going to make sure that your people are, let's say encouraged to do their part helping Kane adjust to life here."

The doctor's guard hadn't lowered an inch. "How?"

Jay's mouth had opened before her brain had time to realize it was blank. "I, um, I don't know just yet, but he and Collin are on the case."

A stranger's baseless claims weren't enough to reassure or change Eliza's mind, but they had to end the call on that low note because the rest of the world hadn't been put on hold until they figured this out.

Uncertainty hung like a cold fog over the house when Collin finally returned. Trevor was "dismissed" to go home and clean up so he could meet back up with them at town hall once Collin had done the same. Soon enough they were outside in the pale light of a procrastinating sunrise. They traveled in silence, keeping whatever information they'd just learned to themselves until it was time to compare notes as a group. Worry gnawed on Collin's heart, but he kept his mouth tightly shut.

'Trevor was there the whole time,' he reminded himself again, 'and Jay wouldn't hide something going wrong. Nothing bad happened to either of them.'

He hated that he couldn't get those thoughts out of his head, but Collin had nothing else to focus on. It was still too dark out for the rest of Nettles to be up and running, and in this quagmire of a waiting period, Collin's only focal points were what had already happened, or what might have happened, and the long winding road ahead of them.

The calm, neutralizing interior of the town hall closed the lid on Collin's roving thoughts for the time being, and he marched on with renewed purpose as he led the party into one of the inner offices. Chief Victor hadn't moved from the chair Collin had left him in, his hands steepled together in front of his mouth while he propped his elbows on the remaining pieces of the armrests. The clouded contemplation in his eyes broke when they entered the room.

When Trevor joined them moments later, they wasted no time consolidating their information. A thin, rather malnourished plan rolled out before them like a red carpet made of a single piece of thread, but it was the only path they could take. If Chief Victor had any doubts, he didn't show them as he turned his chair to their only means of contacting the world beyond the wall and began dialing a number.

In a surprise twist, the call connected almost instantly. "Who is this, and how did you get this number?" the man who answered demanded. There was a faint hint of morning grogginess around his sharp eyes, but wherever he was it wasn't so obscenely early for him to be dressed in uniform and in his office. "Your superiors will be hearing about this!"

"That's great, Commander Cade, because I am calling on behalf of my superiors," Victor replied smoothly, settling comfortably in his chair.

The Commander's expression had been perfectly carved out of a block of granite, but his left eye gave the slightest twitch. "How do you...?"

"My name is Victor," the Chief went on, seemingly ignoring the question, "and I am the current serving representative of the little outpost here in Nettles. Perhaps you've heard of it?" Cade flinched. Not dramatically enough to move him out of frame, but enough to know that the call now had his full attention. Victor's smile grew, and he reached over to grab a plank of wood from further down the desk. "I wanted to tell you personally that we received your package this morning."

Back in control, the Commander frowned. "Package?" he scoffed. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

With only the slightest amount of flourish, Victor presented his evidence. It was a piece of the crate emblazed with a large "13". A chill washed down Cade's spine. Less than twenty-four hours ago he'd stood next to and been dwarfed by that very number. Because of how the Chief had shifted, he could now also see Kane standing beside two other young men. Side by side, like equals.

Setting the plank down, Chief Victor clasped his hands together on the desk. "Our request is a simple one. Get in touch with Colonel Samuel Hastings, and he will show you how your department can sponsor our newest resident. Discretely, of course."

"You've already told someone?" Cade snapped.

Darkness pooled around Victor's eyes as they narrowed. "We here in Nettles are not allowed the luxury of misrepresenting facts. If I do not report even a single birth or death, hell will rain down on our town because of it. My superiors are not so strictly bound, so if you need to threaten someone, point your weapon at them."

There was a long, stagnant pause. "I'll see what I can do." Then Cade hung up.

A heavy sigh rocked Victor's shoulders as he powered down the machine. Leaning back in the chair, he lifted a hand to drape it over his eyes. While the others stood at silent attention, Kane dared to inch forward. "Why do I need his money?" he asked bluntly. "What good would that do me?"

Victor turned the chair around slowly and dropped his hand back into his lap. "You wouldn't get the money directly, but you'd reap its benefits. All financial support means is food on our tables and clothes on our backs. Getting anything more than the barest minimum is an uphill battle we lose far more often than we win."

"So, what makes this time different?" Kane pressed. "How can that Colonel do anything more than he normally does?"

A small twist of a smile perked up the corner of the tired Chief's mouth. "Well, to put it plainly, we've got dirt and a paper trail. If Sector 13, or more likely, their superiors, don't want word of what they've done, either in their labs or with this little stunt, getting out, then they'll have no choice but to take Colonel Hastings' offer. Otherwise... well, I'm sure budget troubles will be the least of their problems."

[lorichu]

Satire underneath :)

[lorichu]

weird as hell to be back in the g/t community while dealing with fucko stealing my work, but i also want to say very point blank that aside from the mistreatment of my work, the other reason i left this community was the racism. and the transphobia. and the overall bigotry. and the people who are weird/creeps abt kids. and that all of those bitches are still here. some of them are very popular in fact. and while i can’t stand to be in this community, there are people here who remember.

you know who you fucking are.

[lorichu]

alright, i am the writer of gtms, this story and these characters, bagley and obermann, belong to me. i am the only one who has a seat at my table, who gets a say on what happens to my work. today, some of you will be learning this the hard way.

i am not rehashing the entire series of events that led us here. all you need to know is this is my work that is being desecrated and yeah, i am going to be a little fucking mean about it, because i have taken shit like this for far too long. it’s clear some of you are begging for attention, but be careful what you wish for. fuck around and find out—you poke the bear, you get mauled.

@norathewatcher hi you spineless bitch. you are bringing nothing back. i don’t give a fuck if you’re goddamn michelangelo. you are not “reviving a fandom” you are fucking stealing. there is no fandom, there never was a fandom, this is not a big media like star wars or disney, it was a small passion project by an independent writer posted for funsies. it was treated like big media by a handful of individuals and that is WHY the project stopped, though i have a feeling you know this shit already, don’t you?

but death of the author! you cry in excuse. do i sound fucking dead to you. death of the author is for long dead, problematic authors so we are able to discuss the cultural relevance of their work, not to enable you stealing shit off of tumblr dot com. this is not you “simply filling the vacuum” this is you feeling fucking entitled to the existence of my work and my characters and ultimately, me, for your consumption. you are not owed gtms. it is not a given that this shit needs to exist for you. it is not “content” you “deserve.” like any work shared, it was a privilege to be able to enjoy what i posted of my labor of love, but this is how privileges work: they can be taken away when abused. you are not an artist, you are a spoiled fucking brat with zero dignity or integrity, loyal to nothing but your own greed. fuck off.

i made it explicitly clear in my final post leaving this community that the cause was not a single person or situation but because the community itself is fucking. rancid. the mindset that led to this shitshow is an enormous reason why i left, in addition to the bigotry running rampant—all of which is still alive and well here, though you might think you don’t see it. what you are doing now is having the complete opposite effect of your stated goals. the only thing you have accomplished is digging your own grave, and like a vengeful spirit, i am back to put you in the ground. i am telling you to shut the fuck up, and then i am going back to my happy little life without this fucking circus.

as for the rest of you. i’m sure some of you had no idea what the original situation was, but to those of you who know better and support this garbage anyway, shame on your fucking soul. are you all so fucking hungry for your slop you’ll take it from fucking anybody? eat shit.

get the fuck off my lawn.

[lorichu]

Bottom line, art theft is never ok. Be it the wide internet scraping of AI, or someone just taking something because they "want" it. In some cases these two things overlap, and even if that's not the case here, that doesn't make it any less slimy.

There are better ways to get attention.

This person (Nora) is trying to bring back a series that is not theirs and is against the author’s wishes (it was a very unfortunate situation that happened at the time during the community regarding this series).

As an artist, I would be furious with this disrespect. It’s one thing if it’s fanart, because fanart is accepted and enjoyable. But explicitly “taking” the series because the author isn’t coming back it’s disgusting behavior. And ignoring the responses from me and other polite users (who are fans of the series as you are) are telling you to reconsider this.

I just want the community to be aware of this. This is not right.

[lorichu]

Drummers Drumming

CW: Gore, violence

The last segment for the '12 days of Christmas' prompts with @lorichu and @dreamerart7

The sky stirred with activity as fireworks flew up from the ground and detonated into colorful sparks around the capital ships that hovered around a thousand feet in the air. Prideful music filled the streets as columns of soldiers and armored vehicles marched down in neat lines. Mixed in with the discipline were occasional smiles and cheers whenever a loved one was present. In the S.S Ortus, fleet academy graduate Corinne Eve was staring out of the window in a section just below the bridge.

“You look like you’re enjoying the festivities.” Gerrin Vern was also a graduate, and close to Eve. In many of the combat scenarios, he often served as her XO. Even when she wasn’t in command of a ship, he was usually by her side as partners.

She simply rolled her eyes. “It’s loud, and there’s too many people. The top brass have that fake smile I can’t stand, and then I have to use that fake smile.” An amused scoff left Gerrin.

“But the ship?” He offered.

Eve faintly smiled. “Yes, the ship is very cool. It’s nice to take a break away from the simulators.” Her eyes wandered across the celebrating landscape. “My eyes might just have recovered from being burned out for once.”

“Yeah those headsets are such a pain.” He quietly snickered. “C’mon.” Gerrin peeled off the side of the wall and headed to the elevator, motioning her to follow. “Let’s check the bridge to see if it’s finally open.”

She took in the view one last time before following him onto the elevator. As the doors closed, the ship shook violently. The two were tossed to the ground as metallic groans as sparks flew from the buttons of the control panel. Inside, the soft white light was replaced with a harsh red glow and low alarms.

“What the fuck.” Gerrin muttered as he gripped the side rail and stood up. He saw that Eve was still on the ground and offered a hand. “Still intact?”

She looked at him with a confused expression, and took his hand with a grunt. “That can’t be good, that was a hit.”

“A hit? From who-” The ship shook again and both of them were tossed against the wall.

“Let’s find out.” Eve reached across him and pressed the ‘B’ button, which would take them to the bridge. The two froze as the elevator scraped against the rails, providing a little assurance that they’d even make the trip up. Though after a moment of screeching metal and slight shifts of the box, the doors slowly slid halfway open. They had to force them open, walking out onto an eerily empty hallway which led to the control room.

The two jogged down the flickering hall to the door, which should have automatically opened for them. It only moved to be slightly ajar.

“Help me get this open.” Gerrin grabbed the left side and Eve the other. Both of them tugged against the broken mechanism until their sides started to open. The doors screeched against the floor before being wide enough for them to slip past. Their entry revealed a scorched interior where winds blasted from the atmosphere outside, kicking up smoke and shards of glass. They stared with wide eyes at the burned bodies slumped over at the control consoles as the ship aimlessly moved forward.

Outside revealed plasma rounds and streams of tracer fire dancing across the skies as ships that were supposed to be taking part of the parade engaged in combat with each other. All bearing the same flag.

“I don’t understand-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Eve interrupted him and immediately went over to the center console. She did her best to ignore the body of the captain laying right beside her. “The consoles don’t look that damaged, we should still be able to control the ship.”

Gerrin looked over to her like she was speaking a different language. “Eve, what are you talking about? We need to get off this ship, this isn’t some scenario or simulation.”

“Then go!” She yelled in frustration, as a holographic display of the ship's controls and systems surrounded her. “You still have time to get to an escape pod, I’ll delay the launch.”

Eve’s partner was frozen in place, pulled apart by the desire to bolt to the door and escape what would likely soon be a flaming wreck crashing to the ground. And the undeniable responsibility that had to be filled. “God damn it Eve.” He ran over to the control console farthest to her right, which handled the ships weapon systems. “Before we do anything, we have to eject the escape pods.”

“Yeah I’m working on it.” She looked to the side and began scrolling through different command prompts. However, her attention was stolen to the view outside the shattered wall in front of them. A ship about a mile in front of them had ejected dozens of escape pods from underneath its belly. Just as they left however, nearly all of them were shredded to pieces by streams of anti-aircraft rounds. The vessel responsible was out of their view, but the message was clear. “We can’t launch the pods, not yet at least.”

“Why not?” Gerrin looked back with a furrowed brow.

“They’re targeting the escape pods too, if we launch now, they’ll be just in as much danger as they are here. At least they’ve got layers of armor and shielding in the ship.” Eve responded, stumbling slightly as their vessel took more hits.

“About that, how the hell do we know who's friendly and who’s not?” He pointed out.

“Let’s just start with engaging the ship that did this.” Eve said, referring to another vessel on their portside which only occasionally fired at them. Believing that they had been disabled and would not be returning fire anytime soon. Gerrin shattered that illusion as his hands flew across the screen, selecting every functional weapon that the ship had.

Outside, several rail guns and plasma cannons were turned and trained to the center mass of the offending ship. A press of a red circular prompt released a storm of shells and droplets of pure energy into their target.

--

On the outskirts of a research facility halfway across the planet, were a group of cabins situated in a nearby forest. The inhabitants would be asleep, had it not been for the distant booms of ground defense cannons surrounding the base and the distant hum of vessels exchanging fire. 

“Ava!” The name jostled her out of the bed into a standing position, and she barely had time to process what was going on before her father rushed into the bedroom. “Get dressed quickly and get your emergency bag.”

“Dad-”

“Go!” She flinched at the barked order and nodded. Ava went over to the closet and put on a black bomber jacket, blindly grabbing for a random pair of cargo pants and slipping into them as well. As instructed, she moved her food under the bed and slid out a small backpack. Once it was on, she ran downstairs where her father had gone.

Ava was barely able to get a word in before a hunting rifle was placed in her hands. “Dad-”

“Just like we practiced, hold your breath and keep your arms steady.” He was in full combat gear now, and her heart began to hammer as the distant explosions seemed to be getting closer. “Only fire when you know you can hit your target. I’m hoping this is only a last resort. I’ll try to send someone over here.” Before she could ask, Ava was embraced in a tight hug. “I love ya spuds.”

She froze up. He’d hugged her plenty of times, but never this hard. This tight, almost desperate grip. “Dad?”

Again, no answer. Only with him letting go and rushing over to the door. Once it closed, it left her alone in the cabin.

He had said someone would be sent over, and so she took post beneath one of the windows. Ava checked the chamber of the rifle and flipped the safety to red.

It felt like an eternity when the cabin started to shake, and it was different from the faint tremors from distant explosions. These had a certain rhythm, far too consistent to be anything other than footsteps. And from the intensity, it wasn’t from something her size. Ava gripped her rifle tightly, and readied herself to face whatever was outside.

--

Eve grunted as she lost her footing again. Their vessel was getting pounded by the other ship’s broadside, having discovered that their target wasn’t as helpless as it appeared. Even though both ships were equally armed, the one that Eve and Gerrin commandeered had already taken damage. In a straight gun fight, they weren’t coming up on top.

“Corinne were getting fucking hounded here, shields are starting to give in.” Gerrin said, starting to reach over to other control consoles to divert power to the overheating turrets.

“I know that!” She regained her footing and stood with a frustrated growl. Corinne switched on the outer display of the ship to get a look at their opponent. It was an Impes Class Dreadnought, with its top and bottom lined with heavy cannons. This class of ship was designed both for fire support at a distance as well as close quarter broadsides. They were in its ideal combat engagement, and she had an idea to change that.

Corinne held out her hand to initiate manual control, and a pilot’s H.U.D was projected in front of her. She turned her hand and raised her palm, increasing their altitude. “Gerrin, retract the lower guns.”

“What?” He turned back with a confused look.

“Just do it!” She said impatiently as the ship shuddered again, this time accompanied by the groan of the hull. Gerrin hesitantly turned back to the console and inputted a couple of commands. Soon enough, the turrets at the bottom of the hull were lowered into their storage spaces. 

The ship had been raised a bit higher than the attacking vessel, not completely as they wouldn’t be able to pass over it without an impact. That wasn’t Coinne’s intent however as she rotated her palm to the side and moved it slightly to her left. The vessel corresponded with the commands and began moving sideways towards the other ship. They were still taking fire, however, the guns at the bottom of the opposing ship stopped as they were too close and out of their firing angle.

“Corinne… What are you doing?” Gerrin asked once he found out where the ship was moving.

“Just hang on to something.” He wasn’t pleased with that answer, and gripped the edges of the control console as tight as he could. Corinne swept her hand to the left, with the ship rotating towards the other.

--

Ava was still leaning against the wall as the tremors had stopped. The gun she held shook in her arms as she placed a finger over the trigger. “Ava?!” A familiar voice filled the room. Her eyes widened as she scrambled to her feet and barged through the door outside.

“Jackal?” Her eyes flicked up at the crouched down figure, who still was taller than the cabin even with his stance. The Titan soldier was in full combat gear, though unlike her father, that meant tank-like armor all over his body. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” He said, reaching down with both hands and carefully scooping her up. “Ships just came through the gates and when they got here, they started bombarding us.” Cradling Ava to his chest, he took off into a sprint away from the base and deeper into the forest.

She started to squirm in his hands. “W-Wait, where’s-”

“He’s ordered me to get you to the evac site, we need to keep moving otherwise we won’t make it.” Jackal didn’t answer directly for a reason, and he kept her close so that the immense fires back at the research facility wouldn’t be visible.

His gaze was turned to the sky as distant booms and orange dots started descending from the sky. Though they were too slow to just be projectiles. A few of them landed a little too close for comfort, despite the distance. He stopped and placed her down, using one hand to direct her attention to him. “Listen to me, keep going. Assume anyone you meet before the evac site is not a friendly.” 

“Jackal, please-” Just as she grabbed his thumb, a slight tremor could be felt. The sound of breaking branches and splintering wood echoed through the air, followed by the whir of engines.

“Ava… Go.” Jackal was about the toughest person she ever met, how couldn’t he be? Standing at 30ft tall with unimaginable strength and speed that felt unfair for someone of that size, there was no competition. It wasn’t because of his command that she began running, but the dread in his eyes.

As Ava disappeared out of view, Jackal took out a combat knife from the slot of his thigh armor. He selected a ditch that was both wide and deep enough for him to lay down in. Once on his back, he covered himself in some leaves and branches. Thanks to the darkness that the night provided, the titan may as well have disappeared. Just in time for the slight vibrations of the ground to grow in strength.

His eyes narrowed, as footsteps could be heard. They weren’t like his however, these were slower, and more labored. Each step was followed by the whir of pistons and mechanical joints. He had heard about these prototype walking armors, though their development was a well kept secret, much like the biological processes of the Titan program.

One of those walking armors was headed in his direction from his left side. Jackal tightened the grip on his knife as it got closer. Just as the machine took a step over him, he surged forward and drove the knife into what could be considered its knee. As the walker stumbled, Jackal punched the weakened joint.

The calf portion of the leg completely gave in and the walker fell to its side. He shot out of the ditch and turned around, stomping on its left arm which had a machine gun mounted to the wrist. As it struggled against his weight, the right arm shot up to grab Jackal. Before it could do any damage he grabbed the arm.

A frustrated growl left the titan, the walker was about as strong as he was. With pistols and hydraulic mechanisms fighting against his muscles. He guessed that he wouldn’t be able to keep it pinned for long and stabbed down where the cockpit should’ve been. The knife sheared through the first layer of armor, and judging by the increased struggles, he must’ve gotten pretty deep. Another go at it, and the walker went limp.

Retracting the blade revealed a layer of black substance, most likely oil. The tip of the knife however, was coated in a familiar red substance.

As he holstered the knife, Jackal froze. The hairs on his back rose as he looked around him. From several spots around him, were glowing red dots. Along with the unmistakable sound of weapons being loaded and likely being aimed at him.

--

Eve had fallen to the ground as the Ortus grinded against the other ship. The lower half was scraping against the top side of the opposing vessel, smashing aside the large cannons of their bases. She was barely able to get on her knees and hold out her hand to seize control of the ship again. Her hand did three things, it closed into a fist, rotated, and was raised up.

The ship responded by rotating counter-clockwise and gaining altitude over the now battered vessel. “Gerrin, open fire, now!” She yelled.

Her XO wasted no time inputting the order into the command console, and outside, the hidden turrets came back out. With how the ship was angled, the ventral guns and those on top were given a perfect firing angle while the opposing vessel had nothing left to counter. A storm of plasma rounds and traditional explosive projectiles rained along the length of the ship. At some point, the bridge or a critical component was hit. It started to drift aimlessly to the left and the guns had fallen silent.

“It’s down.” Gerrin gasped with relief as he slumped over the console. Eve nodded, using the last bit of strength to push her hand forward. This sent the ship on a course to the ocean that bordered the city. Once they were over, her XO switched to a different control console and launched the escape pods.

“Hey Gerrin.” She called out.

“Yeah?”

“The engines are giving out, we probably won’t be staying in the air for long.” Eve said, sitting down on the ground against one of the consoles. “And we just deployed all of the escape pods.”

A bitter chuckle left him. “That sucks.” The ship tilted down slightly, with the ocean now in view and approaching them. “What are the chances we get out of this one?”

“Probably little to none.” She said while turning her head to the opening. “Still wanna try it?”

Gerrin scoffed, shakily standing to his feet. “Why the hell not, you know I’ll always be right behind you.” A small smile appeared on her face, and she stood as well. Both of them gripped tightly to the nearest solid object as the vessel crashed into the ocean, and water surged into the bridge.

--

Ava wasn’t the best at following instructions or orders, and that applied to the current situation she had found herself in. Having deviated away from the path to the evac site, she was now hidden behind a tree. Her knuckles had turned white from the death grip she had on the old hunting rifle. That was thanks to the patrol of soldiers passing by.

They had been talking to each other, and from what she gathered, they certainly weren’t friendly. Talk about how well the ambushes had gone and the successes of walking tank units put clear red flags over their heads. The parts about the walkers worried her in particular, as it sounded like a mechanized unit that could actually pose a threat to Jackal. The rifle she wielded wouldn’t be able to put a scratch on it, however, the rocket launcher that one of the soldiers was carrying would in theory be able to dent one of the things.

She rested the hunting rifle onto a flat edge on the boulder and aimed at the group. Ava silently cursed to herself as she took in the action she was about to take. There were five of them, and she only had five shots before needing to reload. Ava would need perfect accuracy, and even then, at least one would be able to get to cover. At that point, she’d be screwed, especially if they either called for backup or flushed her out of cover using a grenade or any other throwable.

Ava paused on that thought, and after a moment she moved the reticle down to the hip of one of the soldiers. She held the reticle over a grenade attached to his belt and held her breath.

The explosion was instantaneous, and in the first second, the soldier that held the grenade was blown in half. In the next, shrapnel shredded the rest of them nearby and they all fell to the ground. A gasp left Ava as she holstered the rifle on her back and ran over to the fallen group. She grabbed the launcher along with a few rockets and began running back to where Jackal had left her. Distant gunshots and voices faintly sounded as she got closer.

The sounds of combat grew fainter however, even as the distance closed. Wary of this, Ava slowed down and crept along the trees, sticking to nearby cover. A clearing was nearby, and once she got to its edge, Ava froze.

Scattered among the ground in front of her were several walkers in various states of damage. Several were missing limbs and a couple had their front plating removed, their pilots missing and likely in a similar state to their mechs. Past that was a bloodied Jackal leaning up against a boulder. His arms were ladened with gashes and he had a hand pressed against his shoulder to cover a gaping wound. In front of him and aiming a red glowing blade to his neck was a mech unit that was still standing. Whether it was savoring the kill or keeping him there for capture, she wasn’t sure. What she was sure of, was her next course of action.

Ava aimed for the mech’s face plate and fired, her hair being blown around from the expulsion of smoke and fire. The projectile zipped out of the forest and slammed into its side. This caused the unit to stumble to the side, and it looked in the vague direction of where the rocket came from. While scanning, Jackal attempted to get up. However, he was met with a swift metal fist to the face, knocking him out.

She quickly loaded in a new rocket and fired. The mech tanked a direct hit to the face again, and began walking towards her. Instead of reloading, Ava began to backup, unsettled by the fact it was faster than she expected.

A yelp left her as it brought its left arm up and began firing a machine mounted on the wrist. Ava dove behind the nearest tree for cover, lying down as bullets tore clean through the trunks as if they were made of paper. 

The storm of fire ceased and was shortly followed by a metal fist punching through the base of the tree. Ava tried to scramble back, though was stopped by the trunk of the tree landing on her right leg. The heavy hunk of wood had crushed the bone, and under the skin was essentially a liquefied mass of broken bones, flesh, and muscle melded together.

A blood curdling scream left her as she continually tried to pull the leg away. That was taken away from Ava as the mech’s metallic hand slammed atop her, completely killing her mobility and restricting her breaths. Considering that she was still alive, Ava assumed that a surrender was being demanded.

“Fuck you.” She hissed, using her left arm to try and grab the hunting rifle pressed up against her back. The mech prevented this by grabbing the arm and pinning it to the ground. The arm got the same treatment as her leg, and her eyes widened with tears as a ragged scream tore through her throat.

The mech leaned downwards and watched closely. After the scream died down, Ava glared up at what she assumed to be the cockpit and spat at the armor. Her head was pressed down by one of its fingers. She figured that the pilot was too pissed off at this point to spare her, and upon that realization, her limbs went limp. Ava let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes to accept what was coming.

Before any pressure could be applied, the weight atop her was lifted as quickly as it had come down. When she opened her eyes and turned her head to the side, Ava was greeted to the sight of Jackal hunched over the mech which was now on the ground.

He planted a knee atop its chest and began to punch down repeatedly. Each repetition came down harder than the last. The armor on his knuckles would be stripped down to nothing, along with the glove underneath. Blood coated the fingers as the dent on the cockpit armor sunk deeper into the machine itself. By the end, the bones underneath were exposed. As for the walker, it lay limp, with blood pooling out the sides of the crumpled armor.

Jackal let out a pained groan, turning around and limping over to Ava. “C’mon.” He murmured, carefully picking her up. “We can still make it.”

--

Kathrine was sitting on a bench facing a wide window which provided a view to the border of the warp tunnel the Tacitus was traversing. Her eyes were pinned on the shimmering wall of space, caught in its swirling patterns against a backdrop of stars which flew by like water droplets. It was said by some that staring at the borders of a warp tunnel did weird things to the mind, that it was easier to space out and get lost in thought.

And lost in thought she was, until a sharp burning pain surged through her mechanical arm. Which shouldn’t be possible, while she could feel things with the artificial limb, pain wasn’t one of those sensations.

She gripped the metallic arm as it began to twitch and seize in response to the intense pain. Her eyes closed to cope with the phantom sensations and she bit her lip to keep silent. The last thing Kathrine wanted was someone being sent up to check up on her.

As the pain reached its height, Kathrine felt something else. A warm touch that clashed against cool metal of what would be her bicep. She opened her eyes and flinched seeing Eve there, with a hand against the arm.

Eve had a character to play, much like she did. Different, yet similar in some ways. That was gone, the stoic almost cold calculating with a hint of occasional empathy replaced with eyes that cast concern and worry over the metallic limb. The faintest of smiles appeared on Kathrine as the pain was purged and as the other captain scrutinized her arm.

Kathrine closed her eyes and leaned against Eve. Her head gently fell to the adjacent shoulder, resting there as she released a quiet sigh.

[lorichu]

My True Love Gave to Me

This is my part of the larger collection of holiday pieces I'm doing alongside @gtypewriter and @dreamerart7 based on the song The Twelve Days of Christmas, featuring characters from my story, Clock Strikes!

-----

The Crown Charity Gala was the holiday party of the year, and not just in Perraulton. Affluent humans and giants alike came from all around to join in the spectacle that always happened on the weekend before Christmas. It was a celebration of the arts featuring installations from local artists, all of which were up for auction, and an incredible buffet catered by restaurants throughout the city.

Either of these would've been stars on their own, but there was one final tent pole that really made this event; the entertainment. This was a mixed gathering, so instead of a dance floor, there was a main stage that hosted rotating performances by musical acts, dance companies, and theatre tropes. All the proceeds from ticket sales and the auction went right back into the community, be they given to the artists directly, or as part of a scholarship fund for those wishing to pursue the arts themselves.

Every year Rhonda always offered tickets to everyone in Support, but I could never justify taking any. Whatever steps I took towards that kind of grandeur would've been a foot in the door for my stepfamily to barge in and swipe it out from underneath me. If they'd gone on their own, I wouldn't have cared, I just refused to be the reason they made the evening about themselves.

However, now that I was going as Lucas's plus one, none of that darkness was anywhere near my mind. It was still a little overwhelming, even after going for the past three years, but the rush was exhilarating. There was always so much to see, so many interesting people to talk to, and so, so much amazing food. To top it all off, this year Fritz had put together a wing of his own art that I absolutely could not miss.

We'd arrived at the venue hours before everything started to help Meredith and Fritz sort out any last-minute preparations, but they, the volunteers, and the rest of the main staff had been dotting the final i's all day. Aside from the few chances we found to lend a hand, Lucas and I were mostly just there for moral support.

Once we hit the final hour mark, we snuck off to a private room to change and get cleaned up before the doors officially opened. We basked in the extra privacy while we had it, taking a moment to really sit down, snack on a few hors d'oeuvres, and dip into the chilled bottle of wine that had been left out. I should've known that Meredith would think of everything.

It was nice, just the two of us.

Back out on the front lines, I couldn't put the rising monolith of my fear to rest. This wasn't even my first or second rodeo, and it still had me quaking in my boots. I was right here, next to the Crown family of all people, waiting at the entrance of the receiving area for the city's largest social event. They asked me to join them, as an equal, to greet their guests, even though I was just, me. And, to make matters worse, my presence was celebrated in the same breath as theirs by all of the celebrities and dignitaries who strolled in wearing clothes more expensive than I made in a year.

Lucas's family money had intimidated me plenty of times, but it was so surreal to be lumped in with it purely by association. Yes, we'd been dating for a number of years now, and yes, everyone here knew that and had met me before, but it still wasn't mine. Was I the only person who remembered that?

The little thorn stayed stuck in my side, but its stings faded away as the crowd processed in. Warmth and Christmas cheer filled the air, from the guests' smiles to Lucas's laughter. Maybe I wasn't born into whatever "this" world was, but I'd found a place here that was all my own. I still might never fully get it, but I think I could live with that mystery.

Over an hour had already passed when Meredith came over to shoo us away. "Go, sit down, and enjoy the evening," she insisted, literally waving us off like we were causing a scene.

While his hand was already at my back, Lucas didn't pick me up. "You sure? We're happy to help. It's no big deal."

Meredith rolled her eyes and gave her son's shoulder a gentle push. "We'll only be here for a little while longer. Your father and I have plenty more to check on."

A quick glance of permission and consent was shared, and we were on our way deeper into the party. I felt the temperature change the second we were farther away from the door, prompting a chuckle from overhead.

"You should've said you were cold, Emily," Lucas teased, seamlessly lifting me up to his shoulder and sliding me off. "We probably could've left earlier."

Just a second of his personal warmth was enough to revive me. "It wasn't that bad. Comes with the territory, especially this time of year."

He laughed and nudged me closer. "Whatever you say."

Getting out of the spotlight clicked everything into place and I felt the mild anxiety in my anticipation melt away. This was a party after all, something meant to be fun. We'd all been looking forward to tonight for months, and it was finally time to enjoy all of everyone's hard work.

Lucas followed the flow of traffic into the multileveled main hall, and even though I'd already been through here hundreds of times, seeing it filled with attendees brought a fresh swell of pride to my chest. Every year that feeling just got better and better.

There was a free cocktail table at the very end of the balcony right before the stairs, so I snagged it while Lucas went off to the bar to get us some drinks. I wandered over to the edge and leaned against the balcony as the next act came out onto the stage. Eleven woodwind instruments felt a little excessive, but it was a varied bunch from piccolos to a bassoon, and once the pipers started piping, they created an almost a cappella arrangement. Their set was a collection of classic holiday songs, and for songs I'd heard a hundred times before, I had to admit that their unique spin did breathe new life into the old tunes.

When Lucas got back with the drinks, he also brought company, which kicked off the second phase of our minor hosting responsibilities. People meandered over to and away from our little corner table for the next hour or so, bringing a change of conversational tune along with them. Some were long time Crown acquaintances, business associates, or family friends there to catch up, while others just wanted to swing by and say hello in case they didn't see us again.

It was a blur of faces old and new of both sizes that only ended when the call went out that the buffet had finally opened. We knew better than to try and beat the rush, so we sat back and finished our drinks, however I could barely call it a calmer atmosphere though. As the crowd gathered on the lower ground floor, the center of noise shifted accordingly thanks to the conversational hub centered around the long string of buffet tables. While it was in direct competition with the main stage for dominance over the tone of the hall, in the end it was still just noise. That dissonance was its biggest shortcoming, and the more delicately crafted performances still reigned supreme.

A hand slid up next to me, and I jerked out of my hazy daze to meet Lucas's curious smile. "You holding up?" he laughed, reaching out to trail a finger down my arm before taking my hand. "Even for me that was a lot."

Squeezing him back in return, I let my shoulders slump when I sighed. "You're telling me. I know we've had to deal with that kind of stuff every year, but it always seems to get bigger each time." My gaze wandered around the festivities as I leaned more into his touch. "If this keeps up, we might have to make a second receiving line past the main entrance if we don't want to block all the walkways."

There was an almost guiltily mischievous light in Lucas's eyes when I looked back at him, but he was quick to hide it. "Maybe even a whole second hall, just for us?" he quipped. "My parents could probably spin an entire other party out of it."

I yanked my hand free and waved them both between us. "Please no. One of these a year is more than enough for me."

Lucas chuckled, but didn't comment.

Taking that as an invitation to space out again, I naturally turned back towards the stage. A new act was coming out, but this one didn't seem to be a band. Nine ladies in flowing dresses covered in sequins arranged themselves around the stage, waited for a beat, and then began dancing the moment a string quartet started playing. Their movements were mesmerizingly graceful as they wove in between one another, flowing and almost gliding like a flock of birds. To my untrained eye it was perfect rhythmic synchronization.

It felt like the entire hall erupted into applause when their first number ended, and while they did pause to offer short bows, another piece started, and they were right back to business. Left unattended I definitely would've watched them for the rest of their set, but once again Lucas gently prodded me back to the present.

"The line should be more manageable now," he said as he gestured towards the stairs. "Want to try our luck?"

Reality might have drifted away from me for a second, but my stomach wasn't going to let that happen a second time. Pulled towards him by gravity alone, I smiled. "That sounds wonderful."

Like everything else about the gala, the buffet tables were larger than life, even for giants. The mood and atmosphere were one thing, but this was the one attraction that everyone always gushed about, and for good reason. A feast of feasts amazingly put together by hundreds of local restaurants, catering businesses, and specialty shops from all over Perraulton and many of the surrounding towns and cities. Every table had a placard for its affiliated vendor, as well as cards with contact information and in some cases even the chefs themselves to both serve their creations and network directly with potential future clients.

We queued up together in the mixed line instead of dividing and conquering mostly to keep our chances at getting dragged into long separate conversations down to a minimum. In the many weeks of prep, I'd looked over the menus countless times with Meredith, so I knew what my main targets already were. I'd learned from previous years though and wanted to keep an open mind and open space on my plate for anything that might've snuck under the radar. The buffet would stay around until the end of the gala, but there was plenty more to do than hang out and sample food all night. No matter how tempting of an idea that was.

Much like the chatter that had kept us trapped before, light and pleasant small talk drifted all around us as we proceeded down the very long line of tables. Of course, from other guests, but also the vendors we made a point to check in with. Everything seemed to be running smoothly thus far, but I wasn't one to take anything for granted. The second I sniffed out a problem, it would be all hands until we got the matter resolved. Some of that was a deeper instinctual reaction, though I'm sure most of it had been drilled into me from my many years in Support.

Partway down we reached a table for a local human eatery that had its selection split into two uniquely sized offerings. On the smaller side were carving stations for their various roast meat dishes, while the larger ones were miniature potpies made from the same roasts they were carving to order. Lucas grabbed one of each pie, and after I'd gotten my selection, I stared a little longer at the three stations down at the far end.

"What do you think makes them "French hens"?" I whispered once I was back with Lucas. "Is it the chickens themselves, or the way they're prepared?"

He had to bite down on his lip to stifle his open laughter. "Maybe preparation? I don't know much about that level of cooking, or birds for that matter, but as far as I know, there isn't anything specifically unique about France's chickens."

Keeping any further rhetorical questions to myself, we made it down the line in pretty good time and with a pair of very full plates. Instead of circling back to our previous spot, which had likely already been claimed by someone else, Lucas snuck his way through the crowds to the larger tables on the main floor surrounding the base of the stage. While there were multiple seats open, and about just as eager invitations, we claimed some of the last few chairs at the table Rhonda was sitting at and dove into both our meals and a more casually relaxed conversation.

Everything on my plate and the bits I'd sampled from Lucas's were incredible. Now that we were filled to the brim with great food and holiday cheer, it was finally time to move on to the exhibits in the wings branching off the main hall. There were even more people milling about, so Lucas moved me up to his shoulder as he deftly navigated to the nearest door. A live feed of the performances was being broadcast throughout the building, bringing a touch of those festivities into the calmer areas of the silent art auction.

It was like walking into a small museum, or the most varied personal collection I'd ever seen. Fritz always out did the previous year when curating and setting up these rooms, and I really had to hand it to him every single time. Not only were the pieces phenomenal, but the care and consideration that had gone into highlighting each and every one was mind boggling. Obviously, he knew his stuff, and honestly, I wouldn't trust anyone else with such an important task.

Since we weren't really in the market for a new conversation starter for either of our apartments, Lucas and I just took in the spectacle as he strolled along. Most of the artists prepared for this night over the course of the entire year, either specifically for quality or, more likely, quantity. Whatever the case, the selection was as diverse as it was inspiring, and I couldn't believe the number of new names we passed in between all the familiar ones. I doubted it was the only factor, but it was heartening to see the effect of the scholarship fund.

Nearing the end of the general exhibits, one piece in particular captivated us at the same time. It was a massive tree that reached well over Lucas's head made entirely out of metal and stained glass. The ways the frames had been bent and twisted around each to create the rounded curves of the trunk was elevated to an entirely new level by the vibrancy of the glass itself, which was cut into such intricate pieces and layered on top of each other. Further up, the branches fanned out to hang some incredibly delicate looking leaves in every shade of green imaginable. Interspersed between them and hanging from the branches as well were some rounded shapes of blown, yellow-green glass, and it wasn't until I saw a beautifully crafted bird perched near the center of the tree that I figured out what they were.

"It's a partridge in a pear tree," I laughed. "How cute."

Lucas leaned back to look farther up, then glanced over at the sign beside the bidding sheet. "Oh yeah? No kidding." He laughed as well before bringing his hand up to me. I moved over without question and stepped off onto the human viewing platform around the base of the piece so we could both walk freely around it. However, instead of doing any of that, I watched Lucas as he shuffled backward to get a better angle. "Ok, yeah. I can see it now." He crouched down while looking up, almost putting him close to my perspective. "Wow. That really is something else."

We both got kind of lost in the tree, but we eventually found each other again and moved on to the final gallery; Fritz's. This was such a deeply personal indulgence for me, because even though I'd gotten previews of most of, if not all of the pieces while they were being worked on, seeing them finished and displayed like this threw me back in time to all those museum trips I took with Dad. Long before I'd met Lucas or his family, Fritz had always been my favorite artist, a fact that still rang true even today. I didn't have the words to describe it, but there was just something in the way he made things that resonated deep inside me. No matter what anyone else said, he would always be the best, regardless of medium.

Of all the exhibits we'd been through, this gallery was the busiest. Understandably so, and while I loved that others appreciated Fritz's work too, I really did hope they'd go back and check out all of those other artists as well. As we steadily moved deeper into the gallery, I noticed a strange blocked off area further in the back. There was even a security guard posted in front of it, which only served to make me even more curious. Lucas didn't seem fazed by it at all, and just kept meandering ever closer to it.

'Did I forget something?' I wondered, stealing another glance at it while we moved between pieces. 'Or does he know something that I don't?'

Whatever the case, the mystery couldn't be avoided forever, and when the room had cleared out a little, Lucas actually walked towards the security guard. Our greeting was a brisk nod, then the guard reached over to unclip the velvet rope to let us through. Lucas quietly thanked him and continued forward without missing a step. All I could hear was the clink of the rope being secured back into place.

Behind another thick curtain was a small room with a simple, two-seat bench in the center and a trio of spotlights hung from the ceiling. Those lights were angled at the wall opposite us, where a single painting was on display. The Meeting in the Courtyard.

Suddenly there wasn't any air in my lungs. "Lucas, I... Is this...?"

"The original?" he finished with a smirk in his voice. "Yes." His hand was in front of me again, held just so that it didn't block any of the view. "This painting is almost always out on loan, but it was apparently very easy to call it back for one night."

I didn't really trust my legs to support my weight, but I crossed over all the same and let Lucas bring me over to the viewing platform just in front of the painting. "But why is it here behind security instead of being displayed out there for everyone to see?" My voice almost sounded like it was coming from another room.

"Well, it's not for sale for one thing." Lucas sat down on the bench behind me. "And Dad thought it might make an interesting bidding war. The chance for some time alone with him and the painting for a private lecture. From what I've heard, it's fairly popular." After he softly cleared his throat, his words came out weaker. "But that's only the public reason."

"What do you mean?"

This time when he cleared his throat it sounded painful, so I tore my eyes off the miracle on canvas in front of me to face him. "I know it's important to you, so I wanted to share it with you, Emily," Lucas replied slowly. "There's so much of your life that I never got to see and won't ever get the chance to experience for myself."

I stumbled over to the railing and gripped it with both hands. "Lucas? Are you ok?"

He nodded and hunched forward to run a hand through his hair. "I wish I could've met your family, Emily. Your real family." His voice cracked, and he bit down on his lip. "I'm glad we've been able to spend so much time with mine, but it's not the same thing. I want to see your roots. I want the full picture of where you came from. And, I wish I could've asked them for permission."

My eyes were transfixed on Lucas's right hand, which broke away to grab something out of his jacket pocket. It was a small, black box, barely big enough to cover the pad of his thumb. A jolt shot straight through my heart.

'Is that...? Can this really be happening?'

Sure enough, Lucas slid forward off the bench to drop down to one knee. His hand shook the whole way up to the railing, where he presented me with the box. "Emily Asher," he enunciated with such delicate care. "You're my best friend. There's no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with, so w-would... Will you marry me?"

I'm sure the ring was beautiful, but all I wanted to look at was Lucas. Or at least I tried to, because I was crying so hard I could barely see. "Yes!" I sobbed as I climbed over the railing and onto his hand. "A hundred times yes!"

He was crying too, and as his fingers curled in around me, I made sure to hold on tight to the box as we sealed the promise with a kiss.

[lorichu]

Eight Maids A Milking

The third (or I guess technically the eighth?) part of the holiday pieces with @lorichu and @dreamerart7

The faint pouring of boiled water was accompanied by soft festive jazz that played throughout the apartment, courtesy of a random playlist that Stanley had selected to set the mood. Juno was in the living room, decorating the tree while he fixed them some tea to enjoy together and through the activity. This time around, the cosmic being had learned his lesson. An invisible barrier surrounded the literal star set atop the christmas tree, ensuring that it would stay intact throughout the holiday season.

Just as Stanley finished pouring the water into the two mugs, a knock sounded at the door. His brow furrowed as he hadn’t been expecting guests, in fact it had been years since anyone had actually knocked at his door. Apart from the soldiers bursting it down to take him hostage to bring Juno to heel but that was an exception.

He set aside the mugs of tea and walked over to the door. What greeted him when it was opened was not a delivery person or soldiers. But rather eight women dressed as maids each holding two buckets of milk. The fever dream-esq sight completely froze him. “Uhhhhh… You’re Stanley, right?” The woman closest to him asked, eyes judgemental as they looked up and down his figure.

“I-I um.” Her voice resumed his normal thought process though it was still in shambles at the unexpected visitors. “Y-Yes, I am.” He looked back at the living room to Juno, who gave him an expectant look. What the cosmic being was expecting, he hadn’t a single clue. “Would you excuse me for a moment.” Stanley gently closed the door and quickly walked over to the couch.

A long drawn out sigh left him. “Juno, why are they’re eight women in maid outfits carrying buckets of milk outside my door?” He calmly asked.

“...You don’t like it.” Juno murmured as the stars on his body dimmed. Stanley's eyes widened, that never happened before.

“N-No.” He said, the words starting to escape him again. “I’m just… Confused.” A hesitant smile formed on his face. “How about this, why don’t you send them on their way with a nice amount of compensation? Those buckets looked quite heavy.”

Juno quietly nodded. As he stood up, a simple black suit and tie slowly covered the background of space that was his skin. The cosmic being, now human, went over to the door. While the nine of them talked, Stanley sat down. Stirring in the many questions bouncing around his head. Eventually, Juno finished and sat down next to him.

“Right, okay. Let’s start with what that was about? I’m pretty sure that was supposed to be something.” Stanley started, looking over to Juno. His face fell as what was clearly shame emanating from Juno, focused into a stare directed at the ground.

“They were supposed to be a Christmas gift.” The cosmic being muttered.

Stanley stared at him blankly. “...But it’s the eighth of December?”

“I don’t know.” A huff left Juno. “It’s what that damn song was talking about.”

The blank stare continued before Stanley lost control and spiraled into laughter that threatened to choke him. “Oh no Juno,” He said in between gasps of air. “Are you talking about the 12 days of Christmas?”

“And now you’re making fun of me.” An unhappy grumble produced flickers within the stars as he laid down on the side away from Stanley, who, while still nearly paralyzed from the aftershocks of this revelation, laid atop him.

“I promise I’m not, it’s just absurd.” He adjusted himself to be laying in the space between Juno and the rear cushions of the couch. “This explains a little bit,” Stanley wrapped his arms around him, scooting up so that their heads were at the same level. “But only a bit, I mean what happened to the seven other days. Actually, more to the point, why even start this?”

Juno remained quiet for a moment before giving in to the question. “I didn’t know what to get you this year.” He finally said. “The universe only has so many wonders.” A bitter chuckle left him. “I heard that song while walking around the city when you were at work, so I thought those were actually things that people would like to get.” He felt Stanley’s chest move from a poorly concealed snicker. “And clearly, the song was misleading.”

“Juno.” Stanley sat up, leaning on an elbow to look over him. “You don’t have to get me anything.”

“But-”

“Ah ah ah, let me finish.” He insisted. “I appreciate the things you’ve gotten me, and I feel like appreciation doesn’t do it justice because it’s insane!” Another laugh started to bubble within him as he listed the things that Juno had gotten him. “I love the black hole in the trash can, and that most of my light bulbs have now been replaced with every kind of sun that can be formed.” Stanley lowered himself and scooted closer to Juno. “But that’s not why I enjoy this time of year.” He rested his head upon their neck.

“And why’s that?” Juno carefully turned around to face him, a smile finally tugging at the edges of his lips as Stanley pressed his forehead against his.

“You, idiot.” The human responded with a smile. “I never had anyone over for holidays, or for anything really. You being here already does so much.” The smile grew as arms that were now bigger slowly enveloped him, and the stars in Juno’s body grew a bit brighter.

The cosmic entity adjusted Stanley and moved him a bit lower, resting his head atop his. “I still want to get you something though.” He murmured.

Stanley thought it over for a minute before arriving at an idea. “How about this, I’ll have you get something. But we’re doing it the human way. No fancy stars, no space anomalies. Just finding a nice store and trying to pick something out. How does that sound?” He got his answer in the warmth that started to seep out of Juno’s body. The pulsar in the middle of his chest started to rotate, producing a vibration similar to that of a purr.

He took that as a yes, and took in the relief of adding something normal to the apartment for once.

[lorichu]

Writers shouldn't be afraid of their readers, readers should be afraid of their writers

[lorichu]

Went ahead and did another art from the story I've got going on dA, this time with a scene from the first chapter. If you want to check it out, you can find it [Here].

[lorichu]

The art block has been real and pretty bad over the past couple of months, with most of my energy going mostly to work or my writing. I did, however, manage a little art for the story I'm currently posting over on dA, Small Coffee To-Go, specifically a scene from the fourth chapter. It's a fun bit of slow burn with a little... let's say general commentary mixed in, but we're only just getting started.

[lorichu]

Satire underneath

ooooooooo spooky

[lorichu]

No Quarter

Occurs after A Dollar More

TW: Violence, death, dismemberment

A quiet breeze blew over the dozen or so buildings grouped together. The region had a name, but most folks simply referred to it as ‘the middle of nowhere’ which was an accurate description. Flanked by badlands and surrounded by desert plains, the only value and indication of it being a ‘somewhere’ were the small towns that sparsely dotted the land.

Its lackluster features played to this town’s advantage however, and calling it a town would be a bit of a stretch. Stolen goods and conspirators for larceny and murder walked freely among the streets. The place was a hub for one of the many criminal organizations vying for control over the practically ungoverned wild west.

Among the obvious need for hustlers, con artists, and hired guns, more dull jobs needed to be fulfilled. As uninteresting and unassuming an accountant could be, they ensured that everyone got their fair share, and uncle sam’s eye didn’t wander to their ill-gotten gains.

Situated in the center of town, sat one such accountant. He sat at a desk, leaned back and legs rested on top, reading a book. It wasn’t a book containing financial records though, rather a novel he’d picked up a week prior.

His boss opened the door, dressed more or less how one would imagine a crime boss would. A thin suit and vest accompanied with an all too familiar brown stetson. The hat wasn’t the only thing he wore, clearly unhappy seeing the man he hired reading instead of accounting. “I don’t recall hiring you to read,” He took a few steps to the desk, leaning forward with squinted eyes and reading the title. “The Big, Small, and In- hell kind of title is that.” The man scoffed.

The accountant simply smirked, pushing a small stack of papers on his desk towards his boss. He looked at them with a raised brow, picking some up and reading through. “There’s no way.” He muttered, flipping through the stack. “I assigned you these just this morning.”

“And I got it done…” He thought for a moment. “About five chapters ago?” The accountant said, in reference to the book. 

“Well shit.” His boss said, a grin forming. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? I don’t have much else for you, and even if I did, I think you’d finish it before I even left the office.” The two exchanged a formal kind of laughter, more so out of respect.

The accountant stood up and stored his book in the desk drawer, walking past to exit the office. “Keep this up Carter, and you’ll be looking at a bigger share of what we rake in. You handle numbers better than some of our guys handle guns.” That got a genuine chuckle from him as he left.

The sun had already dipped below the horizon, casting the surrounding land into complete darkness. The sparse lamps dotted around the town barely pierced through the night, which helped conceal their illicit operations.

Carter had a habit of walking around the perimeter of the town, just to clear his mind before heading to the bar. That in of itself was work, navigating a pool of short fused, battle hardened criminals. The near limitless alcohol that flowed didn’t help either.

Stationed around the borders of the town were guards who patrolled and kept watch for any intruders. At this point of his walk, he’d usually pass at least one. He’d say ‘hello’ and they’d either wave back or just nod. However, Carter didn’t even spot one yet. “Hello?” He called out, continuing forward.

A few steps down and he did finally find someone, leaned up against a rock. Though, they didn’t give any indication that he was heard. Carter didn’t think much of it, they might have been asleep, which would earn you a beating. He preferred that not happen, so he jogged to wake him up.

As their silhouette became more detailed, Carter froze. A cold grip tightened his skin. The man was facing forward, yet his head was facing back.

“Alarm! There’s-” A shriek voice had called out but was cut short, like a playing record being robbed of its needle.

He didn’t need more to know what was happening, and so he started walking in the direction of the stables which was in the center of town.

“What the hell-” Another shout was cut short, and tremors could be felt rocking the ground. He started to walk a little faster. Others began pouring out of the buildings, armed and wondering what was even happening.

“GIANT!” Was followed by two gunshots, and a distinct impact that made Carter stumble. More shots started to crackle around and he started to run.

It was impossible to not hear, feel and see the attack occurring all around them. In the streets, gunmen looked around wildly and shot seemingly in random directions. The splintering of wood and yelling filled the air, along with dust which surged up from every impact.

“The rotary gun! It’s our only chance!” Someone yelled.

Carter was approaching a warehouse, whose doors burst open. A flat carriage carrying a bronze gatling gun was wheeled out, and he stopped to admire the sight. Six long barrels were attached to a swivel, and atop was a tall magazine filled to the brim with more bullets than a man could carry. The metallic body glistened under the torches bore by the men pushing it out. 

He stood there, watching as one of the guys who wheeled it out hopped onto the carriage behind the massive gun. The man grabbed the rotary crank and aimed presumably at the giant. Carter had to cover his ears as a stream of lead rocketed out of the spinning barrels. Though his ears were covered, he could hear a crazed manic laugh from the gunner. 

The display of firepower lasted about two seconds, and the grin on man’s face turned to confusion as a wooden carriage was flung out of the dark. He didn’t have time to scream as the gun mounted platform was crumpled into a pile of shattered wood. The bronze gun was in fairly good condition, considering what hit it. The gunner was another story, resembling a cushion with how many shards of wood jutted out of his body.

The accountant stood there, staring at the wreckage. The rotary gun was the most powerful weapon they had, and it barely lasted a breath.

He stepped to the side, starting to run in a different direction. Carter was seeing less people on the streets, and hearing less gunshots. And yet the tremors persisted still. A shudder racked his body but he pushed himself to keep going. Carter didn’t bother opening the door, ramming into the entrance with his shoulder and falling inside with a wince.

With a greedy breath, he pushed himself up and crept to the window. Peeking up the glass, his eyes widened and a curse got stuck in his throat. Painted against burning and collapsed buildings was a figure, completely clad in black attire which almost seemed to swallow the harsh light cast upon them.

Out of habit, he ran some numbers. Whoever they were, must've been around the ballpark of 50ft tall.

Carter watched as the figure bent down and lifted a body that was dragging itself away from it. Their fist was locked on their torso, and only when they spoke did he realize who it was.

“W-What do you want?” His boss’s hoarse voice was barely audible over the raging fire.

The figure didn’t respond, placing a thumb under his chin. “I-Is it money? Whoever paid you to do this, I-I’ll double it!’ The man’s head was forced up to an uncomfortable angle, and before another word could be spoken, the thumb flicked up.

He felt faint seeing a circular shape leave his boss’s body and fall to the ground. Carter starred in dread, though not in the sense of losing a friend or loved one. More in the fact that his source of income had been cut short, in a literal sense.

The headless body was dropped unceremoniously onto the ground, joining several other broken corpses. The figure lingered, looking around the wreckage. Their gaze swept the outskirts which was pointed away from the office building. A quiet snort grabbed his attention and he looked to his left down the street. For whatever reason, a lone horse stood in the middle of the road, completely unphased at the massacre that had occurred within the past ten minutes.

Carter was not keen on being found or having the building collapse when the giant came to check his area for survivors. He edged towards the broken door and checked for the giant, who was still scanning the outskirts. With their head turned away from him, Carter sprinted out the door towards the horse.

However, the moment he stepped onto the street, tremors, with even higher intensity, nearly tripped him. Carter only had a moment to turn his head and spot the massive black blur diving towards him. What felt like a mattress impacted his back and forced him into the ground. A yelp escaped his lips as he was pressed against the dusty surface, with small pebbles digging into his skin.

He couldn’t move his face well enough to see his captor, and Carter paled upon correcting himself. They were most likely going to be his executioner.

“W-Wait!” Carter yelled, feeling the pressure start to increase. “I-I’m just an accountant! I do numbers, I’ve never even held a gun before!” The pressure eased, only slightly. “I-I’ve never hurt anyone before, I just took this job because the pay was really good.” It was mostly true, given that the funds he helped manage bought guns and weapons that hurt other people.

“Please…” He rasped as his lungs struggled to expand from the constricted space.

For what felt like hours, his vision began to darken. And as abruptly as he was pinned down, the pressure lifted. 

A painful gasp left Carter followed by a few coughs. Despite nothing being on him, he refused to get up. Even as the tremors slowly began to fade. When the accountant could only hear the faint breeze and crackling of burning wood, he stood up and looked behind him.

The giant was gone, and with his workplace destroyed, he barely had a quarter to his name.

[lorichu]

A Dollar More

New characters incoming

They saw the figure way before their steps shook the rotting foundations of the old town. It was a black blur approaching from the West, where the sun hung low as the day’s end neared. A few details could be made as it got closer. Everything they wore was completely black, and the only thing exposed were their eyes as a mask concealed the rest, and long black hair which stood motionless from the dry air. 

Everyone had gone inside, especially when the detail of their stature became clear. The town’s water tower was 35ft tall, and the figure easily cleared that. As far as they were concerned, they were the tallest thing for miles around.

The streets weren’t completely empty, a few horses milled around after their riders fled into the false security of the nearby buildings. Joined with the few service animals was a lone sheriff, the town’s only sheriff actually. It was more than enough for a town that never saw visitors, and a tired, weary population.

His job consisted of sitting outside and dealing with any drunks that lingered in the town saloon for a little too long. It did not, in any capacity, come with dealing with anyone that was 50ft tall and looked like they meant business. Despite this, he nervously met them in the center of the main avenue. 

Watchful eyes peered through shut blinds as the figure entered town. The dust collected on each building shifted, flying off into the air as they drew closer. The quiet was replaced by the jingle of oversized spurs which preceded each footstep. His neck craned and eyes squinted as he looked up to meet their head, the details of which were blocked out by the sun. Though eventually they were close enough and evidently big enough to completely blot it out. The sheriff found himself engulfed in the figure’s shadow. From there, he was able to draw another detail as to their identity.

“H-How can I help you, miss?” He mentally kicked himself for his rapidly crumbling confidence that was leaking into his voice.

A drop of sweat started to trail down the side of his head, though it wasn’t from the heat. In response to his question, she simply stared down at him. Her eyes were narrowed, sharper than a knife. He began to question if he’d ask the wrong thing or if his tone was off.

The sound of rustling fabric filled the air as the figure slowly knelt down, a soft thud vibrating the ground a bit from her knee. She held out her wrist and opened a pocket attached to the fabric. Black gloved fingers gingerly pinched a piece of paper that was miniscule to her and the size of a poster to him.

He sucked in a gasp as the carriage sized hand moved towards him, palm up and with the paper on the pad of her finger.

It was close enough for him to reach out, and so he did. His own hand slowly moved towards hers, as if it was a bear trap ready to spring on him. Nothing of the sort of happened, and the hand closed once he was well out of its range.

She stood back up, reminding him once more just how imbalanced the scales of power were. To distract himself, he read the piece of paper, which didn’t have much to read in the first place.

It was a wanted poster, with a picture of a middle aged man dressed in a mundane everyday outfit. He had a hat, raggedy shirt, and his face was a bit dirty. The bounty was worth a thousand dollars. “God damn…” He muttered. “Who the hell did this guy piss off?”

The sheriff’s brow furrowed, the face looked familiar. He racked his head for a minute before coming to the realization. The guy had stumbled into town last night, and he’d seen him go into the bar first thing in the morning. It was the only reason he remembered, the bounty was the very first person in the saloon.

“Y-Yeah, I’ve seen him. He’s in this town.” The sheriff replied. He took several steps back as the hand came forward again. A gloved index finger tapped the ground in front of him twice. He didn’t need words to know what she wanted, and he preferred she didn’t rip the saloon’s roof off to get what she wanted. “I-I’ll go get him.” He was relieved to see a nod, at least she seemed satisfied for the moment. 

The sheriff turned around and began walking to the saloon. He pulled out a rusty revolver from his hip holster. Waving a gun around was not at all his style, and usually not necessary. But he refused to have the people here rattled when a massive bounty hunter starts ripping buildings apart to find the pictured man.

He burst into the saloon, and upon spotting the bounty, aimed his revolver at his back. “I don’t know who you are, or what you did. But you need to leave.” The sheriff said in a firm tone. To accentuate his point, he cocked the hammer, the click echoing in the mostly empty building. “This town and its people don’t deserve no trouble.”

The air held still, and both of them did as well. The bartender simply was on the other end of the counter, polishing a glass as if nothing of the ordinary was happening.

It was about a minute of complete silence, save for the squeaking of a rag against a glass, before the man sighed. “One more for the road, old man?” The bounty quietly asked.

The bartender quietly chuckled, and ducked down beneath the counter. When he came back up, he walked over to the bounty and placed down a half empty bottle of whiskey. “Yer gonna need a lot more than just one.”

He gave a grateful nod before taking the bottle and downing it. The sheriff shifted his feet as more of the liquid drained until there was nothing left. With a loud thud, the bottle was slammed into the counter and the bounty stood up. 

The sheriff watched as he walked towards him, not at all concerned with the gun. Given how pointless it would be to run at this point, he holstered his weapon and stepped aside to allow him out. This was done both out of courtesy and enjoying a few more seconds of not having to stand before the giant bounty hunter.

He followed suit and restrained a flinch as she turned her head. Despite how slow and unassuming the motion was, her gaze held an overbearing weight. His steps felt heavier as he followed the bounty. He shuddered under the thought of what the other man must’ve been thinking and felt as they stopped in front of the towering figure.

Her eyes narrowed as she knelt down. His heart stopped for a moment before kicking back into overdrive as her hand abruptly shot forward. The bounty let out a yelp as fingers closed around him, especially when she moved her thumb under his chin and forced him to look up. Staring at eyes wide as dish plates and with the intensity of an eagle froze his struggles.

As quick as he’d been grabbed, he was let go. His legs gave way and the man dropped to his knees, greedily gasping air. 

While he recovered, she stood up and looked at the sheriff, who stiffened as all of the attention was pinned on him. The bounty hunter nodded over to the stables across the street, and he took a moment to think what she wanted. The sheriff started to notice not only the lack of any spoken words, but nothing even vocal coming out of the stranger. Though, he dare not question it.

“Your bounty here came into town with a horse. Did you want me to go get it?” He asked, letting out a silent breath of relief seeing a nod.

It didn’t take very long and not much corralling to get the horse out. By the time he got there, the bounty was on his feet. The horse immediately trotted over, and the bounty hunter turned around. To his surprise, she began walking out of town in the direction where she’d originally come.

The bounty, upon seeing this, immediately hopped on and quietly beckoned the horse to back up. The sheriff narrowed his eyes, hovering a hand above his gun in case he ran. That however, was not needed as the bounty hunter stopped. Her head turned, and though her face was still not visible, they both made accurate guesses as to the expression. The point was, she couldn’t be fooled, and it was highly advised to not do so.

With a tired sigh, the bounty gently tapped the horse's side with his boot. “I wish you luck sir… Wherever you’re being taken.” The sheriff said as the horse began forward. A slight nod could be seen from the man as he left town, with the locals stepping out of their houses and workplaces, contemplating the scene that just played out for them.

For the distance they covered, it was a surprisingly short trip. With the horse's natural speed and the wide distance she could cover with a single step, they arrived in less than a day. Where they arrived, the bounty didn’t have the faintest idea. That was, until he saw the massive canyon once they got close.

He’d heard of this place, a massive chasm that could swallow up entire towns and even some of the smaller cities on the coast. What he hadn’t heard of, was the encampment at the bottom, where a river cut straight through the middle. The place was more a town than a campsite with dozens of tents. There were cabins, bigger buildings for what he assumed was related to paper pushing, stables, and a couple of warehouses. 

The path down was long, a trail on the side of the canyon. The bounty hunter had silently insisted that he be in front. He wasn’t sure why, until his horse slipped on the rocks. It recovered quickly, and he noticed she had stepped forward with an outreached hand. She pulled back seeing they were fine, and he took note of the action. He had a preconceived notion of bounty hunters. Brutal and ruthless. Not much space for certain emotions. Though, she didn’t quite fit that.

Before he could finish the storm of thoughts in his head, they arrived at the front of the town where a couple of armed guards stepped in front of him. “This one give you any trouble Nyx?” They asked.

He looked back and she shook her head. The guards nodded and motioned for him to dismount, which he did. The bounty was surprised to say the least, expecting rough handling. He looked back one last time at the bounty hunter that had caught him, who was talking with another guard. She glanced up at him, holding his gaze for a moment before giving him a nod. What that meant, he didn’t have the faintest idea.

“Got another job for you, there’s an outpost down south being operated by a crew wanting to make a name for themselves. Boss wants them wiped off the map.”

[lorichu]

Marathon

The final installment of this 4 parter: Station Swarm Mist

Everyone was moving to the interiors of the buildings surrounding the company as more of their cover began to deteriorate. The cars on the street were at risk of exploding as gas leaked from punctured fuel tanks while some were simply just falling apart. The titans on the other hand were utilizing the alleys, and would step out to provide literal cover whenever necessary.

Some weren’t so lucky though, having to be dragged to the backline. Kathrine was sat up against a bus as two wounded soldiers were dragged over. The medic was busy taking out supplies stashed in the backpack that Angel was carrying, and she looked over to the two injured with a furrowed brow.

“Doc, you patch em up.” She said, standing up whilst wincing. Her shoulder was pounding, each hit sending a sharp pain through her arms. “I just need a stim.”

The medic looked at her skeptically for a moment before taking out a needle from his front vest pocket, tossing it over to her. “Where are you going?” Angel asked, looking at the debris ridden street from over the bus. 

“To get this damn bullet hole patched.” Kathrine replied. “Just cover me.”

Letting out a short huff, he took the rifle holstered on his back and rested it on the top of the bus. 

Down several blocks were the corpses of both soldiers and sparking remains of mechs. Despite this, more just kept coming. Troops, a couple more mechs, and even vehicles ranging from simple gun mounts to armored personnel carriers.

Clouds of dust kicked up and flooded the street as he fired into the incoming reinforcements. “Watch your head.” He called out as empty shells were flung out the ejector. The bus shuddered under the weight of the rifle which bounced from the recoil. Its roof became more deformed after each shot, with wrinkles warping the metal. The tires burst under the additional pressure before he could even run the magazine dry.

While Angel helped sustain fire against the blockade, Kathrine jogged over to the alley on the left side of the street. A soldier was laying on their stomach on the ground firing a light machine gun, and had been firing frequently as evident by the barrel that was starting to glow orange from the heat. It was just what she needed.

“Hey, could I borrow that for a sec?” She asked, stepping to his side into the alley. The guy nodded and scooted to the side. Kathrine sat down against the wall and grabbed the machine gun with her still good arm. She bit down on her metallic one and took in three quick breaths before maneuvering the gun to her shoulder and pressing the still glowing hot barrel onto the wound. The soldier looked on with wide eyes as the wound was burnt shut and a muffled scream left Katherine. 

She tossed the gun back to him and let out a deep breath. Taking out the needle, Kathrine stabbed the wound. A second later, warmth seeped from where it was inserted and started to flood the rest of her body. Her muscles relaxed and heartbeat slowed.

“That’s one way to cauterize a wound.” The soldier commented, grabbing the machine gun back in preparation to re-enter the fight.

Kathrine glanced at him with a grin and shrugged. “Didn’t wanna use up any supplies.” The grin fell a bit as she saw more of the company running past the alley. The border was still shrinking.

Looking to her left, she saw that their comms specialist had also taken cover in the alley as well. He was kneeling over his radio backpack which had been placed on the ground. “Any word from the Tacitus?” She asked.

“No ma’am, still can’t get through this interference-” His eyes lit up for a moment, and he paused. She looked at him with a tilted head as he began working the dials and buttons with more fervor. 

“What? What is it?” Kathrine stood up and walked over to him, watching the guy and the controls as if she understood what he was doing.

“I’ve got a faint signal, I just need to lock on to it.” He replied. From his focus, he didn’t seem to notice the ground rumbling ever so slightly. The captain, however, did. And while he kept at it, she moved away to the entrance of the alley.

Kathrine walked past the soldier who had gone back to laying down and firing and onto the street. Despite the bullets flying, she stood in the middle and looked back at the shrinking barrier. The others yelled for her to come back into cover but she didn’t see the point in doing so. If no one was picking them up, they were going to find their names listed on a war memorial.

The rumbling grew and before she knew it, a wide wall of metal breached the border. The mist parted, revealing the Tacitus’s hull. 

“Oh you beauty…” She whispered.

As it passed over them with a sound like that of constant thunder, the city blocks were cast into darkness and everything paused for a moment. Soldiers on both sides ceased fire and looked up in awe of the massive machine. Especially when its side grazed the side of one of the taller skyscrapers.

A cascade of broken concrete and office floors came raining down. She turned and watched with a slightly agape mouth as five floors worth of building crashed down on the Irenix forces that had them pinned.

Everyone in the company stared silently at the dumb luck that was granted to them, Kathrine included before she snapped out of it.

“Oi! Don’t just stand there!” She yelled, as everyone else flinched, being brought back into focus. Without another word Kathrine grabbed the rifle stowed on her back and began running forward towards the rubble strewn street where the Irenix forces they had been fighting had been buried.

Jackal stepped out of the alley when he saw her start running. “You heard the captain, let’s go!” His booming voice commanded, the company exited the alleys and buildings they were taking cover in and began to follow the captain. “Angel, Adler, Take the wounded. I’ll cover you.”

As those who were too injured were slung over the two titan’s shoulders and carried in their hands, the company began moving through the field of twisted metal. Any Irenix soldier still remaining was quickly eliminated or passed completely if they were too injured to be any trouble.

The Tacitus was hovering over a cluster of buildings that were short enough to allow it close to the ground about ten blocks away. From parts of the hull which stretched over the openings of the hangars, steel cables from winches were dropped down to the ground. There were three in particular that were thicker than the rest, meant for the titans. Even though she was the first to reach the cables, Kathrine refused to be the first to go. She attached an ascender to the cable and waited for the first soldier to get there. 

Once he arrived, she motioned for him to go and he did just that. Dozens of trips had to be made, and as the last ones were going up, an echoing crash filled the air. Kathrine turned around to the source, which was the damaged shield generator.

The fires emitted from the scars carved into the structure had grown brighter, and the dish emitting the shield was starting to flicker. “Fuck.” She muttered, looking at the shrinking barrier, which was now speeding towards them. As it passed over buildings, they immediately collapsed into a pile of dust. “Fuck!” 

As the last soldier went up, she grabbed the ascender on the cable and began moving up. “Tell em to get us the fuck out of here!” Kathrine yelled up, hoping to god someone had heard her.

To the captain’s relief, the ship began to move up, with the ground falling away. Unfortunately for her, it also began to tilt upwards in preparation to leave the planet. “Oh shit-” Kathrine said, sucking in a breath as the cable had her swing towards the hull.

She aimed her foot forward and grunted at the impact. Just before the Tacitus left the safety of the generated shield, the ascender brought Kathrine near to the top of the cable. From there, she swung and jumped into the hangar where everyone in the company was. Some were standing, sitting, or helping to attend to wounds. The captain simply laid down on her back, letting out a breath as their job was over.

On all sides of the window display, gray clouds of dust violently swirled around the ship. A slight rumble was constant thanks to the engines at full throttle and the solar storm ravaging against the hull. “How long do we have?” Eve asked as the Tacitus continued its ascent to orbit.

“The fleet is already preparing for warp, not longer than a minute.” The XO said as they broke through the clouds.

Dozens of ship sections leftover from the battle were slowly falling to the surface of the planet, with fields of debris peppering the Tacitus as they rushed past. Scattered among them were the original Irenix fleet and the ships that were its reinforcements. Several began firing upon the Tacitus, though with mixed results as half hit their target and others hit the metallic corpses littering orbit.

The bridge was completely quiet as the Tacitus rushed towards the cluster of ships gathered near the warp lane. However, just as they passed the halfway mark, “Captain, two ships approaching our stern, bearing one nine zero.”

“Just keep going, we're almost there-” Eve was cut off, having stumbled as the ship shuddered. The display screen showed them now off course, pointing away from the cluster of ships and spinning. One rotation showed the fleet, now with their engines glowing brighter. The next rotation, they were gone.

“Get us reoriented and make the FTL jump directly to the warp lane!” There was a bit of hesitation from the XO, given how risky the maneuver was. However, the lane was due to close at any moment due to the retreat order. He inputted the command, and their surroundings blurred.

The ship instantly found itself in the warped tunnel of space, and having made the jump at an angle, collided into it’s boundary. Most people in the bridge, Eve included, stumbled and nearly fell out of their seats as a violent shake tore through the hull. The lights flickered and alarms started to sound on each console.

“Sitrep!” Eve called out, getting up back to her feet.

“Only half the ship is inside the warp lane, the other half is being dragged outside. It’s literally pulling apart the ship.” One of the bridge engineers said.

She turned her gaze to one of the screens and pulled up a live rendering of the Tacitus. Sure enough, the hull around the middle was glowing orange and hull integrity alerts were popping up. “Then bring us back in.”

“We can’t, the warp drive isn’t powerful enough to counteract the pull from outside the lane.” Eve grimaced. Usually it wasn’t too much of a big deal to pull out of a warp lane, it was like stopping on the side of the road to repair a car’s engine. Only now, the road was actively disappearing. If they dropped out right now, they’d be light years away from the nearest system.

Her head perked up slightly, having remembered an interesting detail from when she still attended the solar academy. “Divert all power to the hyperdrive.” 

“That won’t be enough.” The XO replied. “We already have power diverted from both weapons and shields-”

“No, I mean every lick of power this ship has to offer.” Eve said. “Grav generators, lights, life support even. I meant everything.”

The order was met by silence, but seeing as there was no other choice, and the ship still groaned as if it were a living creature in pain, they got to it. At first it wasn’t noticeable, but then the lights dimmed. The doors behind them opened, and everyone started to float slightly.

“You can’t overcharge a warp drive for long, even with the additional power.” The XO pointed out.

Eve didn’t respond just yet, having been sent a prompt from one of the engineers. It had two parts, a percentage number and a button to which she could only assume its purpose. “I only need it for a second.” The number reached a hundred percent, and she pressed it.

There wasn’t an immediate indication of it working, and again, not a word was uttered.

The groaning stopped, replaced by a faint hum of the machinery around them. This followed by a collective breath being released. Some of the crew let out nervous laughs, and others leaned against their stations to rest for a moment. Eve, however, quickly grabbed her left hand.

She paused, and released it.

Her hand tremored, and she waited for it to pass. 

A minute passed and she grabbed it again.

“Captain?” She moved her hands to her back and turned to face the XO. “I’ll take the conn for the duration of the trip.” His eyes briefly flitted to where her hand was hidden, and she gave a grateful nod.

“You have the conn.” Eve hesitated for a moment before exiting the bridge and entering the elevator. Down the tens of floors, she kept trying to stabilize the shaking hand, continually holding and letting go. By the time the doors opened, she must’ve tried dozens of times and still nothing.

As Eve headed down the hall, her footsteps fell silent, replaced with an ear ringing void of sound.

She’s the captain, captain’s had to be stoic in the line of duty much like the captains of the ground forces. She couldn’t be allowed to falter, her crew’s lives depended on her decisions. Every single decision no matter how minute or insignificant had to be calculated. It was a never ending game of chess, not only in the field but in the complicated relations with their superiors.

Eve leaned against the wall. Her XO, he offered to take the con because he was being nice. Or had he seen the hand tremors? If he did, he was obligated to report it. She never played well in fleets of ships, nor was she liked by the sector overseers or admirals. If her ability to command the ship was put into question, that could be the key they’ve been looking for to get her booted. If-

A flinch left her as she felt a cold smooth metal grasp her hand. Eve blinked back to reality. She was leaning back against the wall, and Kathrine was in front of her. Adorned on the other captain’s face were brows twisted with concern. She looked down at the metallic fingers grasping her own. They were made of a tungsten alloy, the same kind of stuff used on tank armor. The prosthetic was in its own right more of a weapon than a simple replica of a body part. Despite this, perhaps in the way it cupped her hand and applied an ever so slight pressure, it felt as soft as a real one.

Slowly, she pulled her hand away. Eve paused. The tremors were gone.

And so was Kathrine. Though not before she gave the faintest of smiles and walked away, leaving Eve to process the interaction they just had.

Hidden in her office on the ship was a bottle of aged whiskey, a gift from one of the few admirals that actually respected her. Upon peeling away from the wall, she decided to contemplate it with a glass or two.

[lorichu]

Final August Prompt Week, using the word: Marathon

[lorichu]

Mist

The Tacitus shuddered as streaks of red plasma impacted the hull. Within the bridge, Eve stumbled slightly and gripped the control console in front of her to keep stable. All around them, ships were haphazardly placed across low orbit of the planet. There was no organization whatsoever as ships on both sides scrambled to engage and reduce the numbers of their opposition. Her vessel was no exception to the chaos.

“Shields down to 65 percent effectiveness.” One of the crew members called out, with a frustrated sigh leaving the captain. They were taking stray fire from everywhere, not just with the ships they directly engaged. She wouldn’t be surprised if some of those cases were friendly fire.

Before she could respond, something beyond the screen caught her eye. Two dozen specks of blue light charging past a group of Irenix ships. They weren’t moving fast enough to be missiles, which left only one other option. “Those bombers, where are they going?” Captain Eve asked.

“Trajectory suggests the Artemis ma’am, they’re on our stern bearing one five zero, range 20 kilometers.” A different technician responded.

Tapping the screen to her left allowed a view of the battlefield, showing all present ships both opposing and friendly. She found where the Artemis was and tracked the vessel’s movement, narrowing her eyes seeing a lack of such. If her crew was able to detect the incoming bombers, then so should’ve the other ship.

Eve tapped the ship and opened a comms line to the captain. “Artemis you have incoming bandits, recommend you evade or reposition to the backline.”

“Negative Tacitus, engines are fading on me and the tracking for the AA guns are shot.” The captain responded back.

She whispered a curse under her breath, simultaneously deciding on a course of action. “Bring the ship about, take us parallel to the Artemis and get ready to target those bombers.” Eve ordered, with the view from the front window changing as the ship turned completely around. 

“Are we absolutely sure we can take that big of a hit?” The XO said, side eyeing her.

“We’re not tanking their complete payload, the shields will hold.” Eve insisted as Artemis's side came into view. It was a relatively blocky ship, with flat edges and a rectangular main body. This was broken only by the engine blocks on its side, which flickered on and off as it struggled to propel the ship forward. A few of the satellite dishes and sensors located around the main hull were sparking, confirming its problems.

On the Tacitus, several rotary guns tucked close to the body in small divots pointed out towards the approaching bombers which were now in open space away from the Irenix ships. They continued course, seemingly unbothered by the introduction of a new target.

From the cockpits of the approaching spacecraft, hundreds of specks of light would appear. Without warning, they found their wings shredded into a rain of metal debris, their payloads detonating, or worse, being ejected into the cold vacuum of space as their canopies were punctured. Out of sheer panic, the still remaining pilots that had their bomber still intact fired their payload and scrambled out of the line of fire.

While the AA guns focused on shredding the retreating bombers, the missiles fired from them slammed into the hull of the Tacitus. Instead of a traditional explosion of fire, sparks of electricity danced from the impact zones. “Shields down to 45 percent effectiveness.” The captain silently acknowledged, having her mind on something else.

She consulted the map again. “Do we know where those bombers were launched?”

The technician incharge of sensors and detection took a moment before responding. “Previous flight path indicates here,” On the map she had pulled out, one of the enemy ships to their portside glowed red. It was located behind two other vessels which seemed to be its escorts. “Irenix Hive Class Carrier.”

Nodding, she pinched the displayed ship and moved her fingers apart to expand the image. The map was replaced with a more detailed model and her eyes flitted across each part until finding two openings on the side where fighter craft were launched. 

“We’re taking that ship down, reach out to friendlies in our A.O and request fire support on that vessel.” She zoomed out away from the model and back to the map, tapping the ship they had shielded. “Artemis, are your engines still malfunctioning?”

“Negative Tacitus, we managed to get some of them running again. It’s not ideal but we can move.” The other captain responded.

“Then get to the backline. We'll keep them busy.” Eve cut the line off and addressed the comms technician. “Any takers?”

The crew member nodded. “Escort ships Dawn and Horizon have accepted the fire mission, they’re getting into position now.”

“Good. Drain power from our plasma cannons and reroute it to both railguns. Switch to manual targeting.” She ordered while looking outside the window. To their right, the Artemis had turned away and was heading towards a group of supply ships which defined their backline. To their left, two vessels in the lower portion of the view could be seen passing just out of sight.

The two ships were identical in shape and build. Their hull was shaped like a wedge, with numerous turrets lining the top and bottom. A set of engines embedded into the stern emitted a faint blue light as they passed.

“Local control granted, the guns are yours, captain.” The crew member in charge of weapon systems called out, with her nodding and bringing up a different screen next to the displayed map.

It was a camera feed with a targeting display overlaid on top, with two crosshairs representing the aim of the two railguns, and other necessary information. Eve turned the camera to face the group of ships that shielded the Hive class vessel. Over the distance of dozens of miles, their target was almost parallel to them, with four other ships positioned right next to it. She moved the cross hairs around, unsuccessful in finding an angle that would let her accomplish what she intended.

The XO noticed this and immediately rectified it. At his own station, he inputted several commands. “You have the conn captain.” 

She nodded and stood back. From the ceiling above where she stood, a projection was cast down from a white glowing sphere. In front of her, holographic lines and notches appeared, like that of an aircraft hud. The captain could see their pitch and yaw, their speed and other bits of information needed to manually pilot the vessel.

Though, unlike a traditional aircraft, Eve was provided with no control surfaces. Instead, she simply held out her hand palm up and raised it. Like an orchestra conductor signaling for a crescendo, the Tacitus slowly moved upwards. And when they were higher than the ships shielding the carrier, she closed her hand into a fist and moved it to her chest. All out once the Tacitus froze, and her target was in perfect view.

Eve left the holographic control scheme and went back to the screen containing the targeting controls for the railguns. Tapping the middle, she moved the crosshairs to two horizontal slits in the hull. The captain had her target, the only problem now was the shielding. Energy shields were designed to shatter anything moving faster than a space fighter approaching to dock, which included rail gun fired projectiles. There were limits, however.

“Dawn and Horizon are engaging ma’am.” The XO called out.

Past the window, the two ships could be seen firing a barrage of red plasma bolts. The projectiles detonated prematurely inches above their target’s hull, which produced flashes of white light as the shields reacted to each detonation.

While the escort ships continued, Eve simply waited. Her eyes darted between where the crosshairs had been pointed and the other Irenix vessels. So far, they hadn’t taken notice of the Tacitus, instead attempting to engage the escorts currently firing at their carrier. Retaliation was a mixed bag as the Dawn and Horizon maneuvered near other debris and threw off their tracking.

While it worked for a minute, the tactic didn’t last long, as return fire from other Irenix vessels blew apart anything in their way. “Ma’am, Dawn and Horizon will be disengaging soon. They can’t take this much attention.” One of the technicians called out.

She only nodded, and silently hoped the shields were weak enough for the rail guns to penetrate. With that in mind, Eve initiated the charging sequence.

Rail guns were some of the most powerful weapons a ship could wield due to a lack of limits. Plasma cannons had built in constraints, those being how potent the gas that’s used. On the opposite end, railgun projectiles could be launched at whatever speed was needed, all that was asked was enough power allocated to the magnets lined along the barrel.

Despite their power, firing them, especially from Eve’s position, was rather underwhelming. There was no sound and no visible projectile to track, just two flickers of white light from where the guns were targeted. She waited, with bated breath, each second feeling like an entire minute passed.

Several dots of blue light, followed by massive arcs of electricity flared out of the two openings of the Hive class carrier. Debris consisting of broken space fighters and other equipment rushed out into the vacuum of space. The lights from the hull in that section turned off.

“Nice shot.” The XO muttered, staring at the cloud of shredded metal gathering to the side of the battered ship.

“I was hoping to hit an ammo store but this is acceptable. They won’t be launching any more fighters.” She replied while turning to consult the map again. The captain was about to pick another target before hearing a whispered curse from one of the technicians. Eve turned her head towards him.

“Flagship Orion has issued a general retreat order captain…” The technician said, with the others looking at him with furrowed brows. “Intercepted transmissions indicate additional ships en route to reinforce current Irenix fleet. All Sol Consulate vessels are to gather at the FTL lane.” He read out.

Silence blanketed the bridge, and she stood there with a blank expression. ��Kathrine.” Eve immediately snapped to attention. “Get us to the surface, now. XO, you have the conn.”

“I have the conn.” The XO repeated. The Tacitus veered away from the Irenix vessels, however instead of following the other ships that were heading away from the planet, they dove straight towards the surface.

“Lieutenant?” Kathrine asked as the last truck just barely made it to the outskirt of the city. A worried look was adorned on her face as she stared at the dark gray blob that was the air outside the protection of the shield generator covering the city. “What is that mist?”

“It’s not mist Captain. That’s a swirling mass of dead matter and dust hot enough to burn the skin right off.” He said while hopping out of a truck and moving towards her. “The generator here should be good enough to keep it at bay for a few days without repair.

Her brow furrowed. The border that separated the two atmospheres was essentially a gray wall, giving a clear indication of where the protection of the generator ended, and it seemed to be slowly advancing up the street. “Then how come it’s moving towards us?”

The Lieutenant looked back, his face paling. That’s all she needed to decide on a course of action. “God damn it everyone start moving to the city center!” The trucks barely made it to the city with how damaged they were from the ambush, they would have to leg it the rest of the way. The company and engineering regiment got down a few blocks before spotting what had happened. 

Right in the middle of the urban landscape was a tower surrounded by four pillars connected via cables and a bridge. Atop the monolith was something akin to a satellite dish that pointed directly upwards which was projecting the shield that prevented them from being fried from the solar winds just outside. The problem came with the several gashes and smoke in the main structure.

Though another made itself known as Kathrine was thrown back several feet, and felt a sharp searing pain in her shoulder. She let out a muted grunt while Jackal moved and crouched down in front of her, just as another round came. Instead of hitting its target, it deflected harmlessly off his armor.

The initial assumption was a single shooter, though that was tossed out the window as a company sized group of soldiers rounded the corner a few blocks down. A hail of gunfire enveloped them as they scrambled for cover behind the abandoned vehicles on the road as well as behind the titans.

While Jackal and Adler returned fire, Angel quickly moved to Kathrine who had her hand pressed against the wound. He slipped one hand under her legs and one under her back, carrying her to the rear of the group. The titan froze however, staring at the still approaching gray mist.

“What is it?” She muttered.

“It’s getting closer, and faster. We can’t go back.” Angel knelt down while a soldier bearing a red cross mark on his shoulder jogged to them. The man knelt down and took out pliers. Kathrine put her metallic hand in her mouth and bit down hard. With a nod, he inserted them into the wound. 

As Kathrine was being patched up, Angel looked ahead at where they were being fired from. “Fuck.” He muttered. Three mechanized units had joined in on the fight, with everyone else starting to move into the buildings and alleys to take more secure cover. The company was essentially pinched, with no way to retreat, and pushing forward being too costly. Flanking the sides was also out of the question, with not enough bodies to spare to make a difference.

“Hey, was comms able to contact the Tacitus?” Angel asked the medic, who gave a grim look and shook his head.

For however long, they were on their own.