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sineala · 3 years

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The gay Invaders

Hi, internet! Today I'd like to talk about one of the chronologically-first canonically-gay couples in Marvel Comics history: Brian Falsworth (the second Union Jack) and Roger Aubrey (The Destroyer). (I mean "chronological" in terms of in-universe timeline rather than RL publication date; I'm pretty sure Northstar is still the first to publication as far as unambiguously-gay Marvel heroes go.)

If you are a fan of reading or writing about Captain America being queer, you should care about Brian and Roger, because they were two of Steve's fellow Invaders in the 1940s, meaning that they are two of the people on the list of Steve's Old Gay Friends And Teammates, because, yeah, Steve sure had a lot of canonically gay friends during the war. Probably more than you'd think he would have had in the forties! (The other two are Percival Pinkerton, who's part of Nick Fury's Howling Commandos, and of course Steve's childhood friend Arnie Roth. Pinky is gay by word of Stan Lee, IIRC; Arnie was as canonically gay as DeMatteis could make him in the early 1980s, so they didn't say the word "gay" but it's really, really not subtle. Steve compares what Arnie feels for his "roommate" Michael to what Steve feels for his girlfriend Bernie. Yeah.)

I previously made a Tumblr post about Brian and Roger, rounding up some of the canonical evidence of their relationship, but that post is six years old now, and in the intervening years, Marvel has thoughtfully put the rest of the 70s Invaders run on Unlimited as well as the two Citizen V miniseries that star Roger and retcon his relationship with Brian as romantic. So I've read them now, and I've got panels.

Okay. I should probably begin by saying that Brian and Roger are not canonically gay in their first significant appearance together, which is in Invaders vol 1 #19 and #20, published in 1977. Roy Thomas does not seem to have intended them to be a couple, and they aren't canonically one in any of the original Invaders run. However, if you enjoy gay subtext, it's very nice.

This whole arc is the one that introduces Roger in modern canon. He's been brainwashed by the Nazis and the Invaders rescue him and get him back to his normal self. But in #19 we get his backstory in flashback, as related by Montgomery, Lord Falsworth (Brian's father; yes, MCU fans, the name should look familiar) and it turns out that Roger and Brian were basically best friends since childhood:

They were the dearest of friends!

Anyway, they both ended up captured by Nazis, they presumably changed their minds about appeasement as a policy, Brian got out and joined the Invaders, then they had to rescue the brainwashed Roger, and it's a fair amount of fun in a two-issue arc.

The subtext is even more prominent in Invaders #34, in which they find out that someone going by the Destroyer (which is Roger's codename) has been doing villainous deeds, and the Invaders worry that Roger's gotten himself brainwashed again. Brian immediately insists that it can't really be Roger because he knows Roger and Roger Would Never:

Unsurprisingly, Brian is right. It's not really Roger; Master Man is impersonating the Destroyer, and the villains have taken Roger captive, and the Invaders break him out and there is an extremely significant moment where it just so happens that Roger has to catch Brian, saving his life for a change, and they stare deeply into each other's eyes and Brian seems to be having difficulty finishing his sentences:

Some people who read this therefore concluded that Brian and Roger were extremely gay for each other. While ordinarily this sort of shipping is mostly confined to fandom, in this particular instance, one of the people who started shipping Brian/Roger was Fabian Nicieza, and Fabian Nicieza, as you probably know, writes comics for Marvel. I think you see where this is going.

However, first I must inform you that, sadly, Brian has been canonically dead for years. Captain America vol 1 #253-254 -- the two-parter about Baron Blood in the Stern/Byrne Cap run in the 80s -- establishes that Brian died in a car accident in 1953. (This is also the run where Joseph Chapman -- a friend of Jacqueline Falsworth's son Kenneth -- becomes the third (and current) Union Jack.)

(Roger then appears in a bunch of T-Bolts issues; I assume there's nothing interesting there on the gay front because I feel like someone would have told me. I should probably read more than three T-Bolts issues someday.)

So, anyway, in 2001, Fabian Nicieza wrote a miniseries called Citizen V and the V-Battalion. Roger, who is still superheroing as the Destroyer despite being pretty old by this point, is part of the titular V-Battalion, and he has a very prominent role in this miniseries. And in #1, we have the usual splash page of character backstory, and there's a very, um, interesting line there:

Regarding Brian and Roger's relationship, the narration informs us: "It sounds much gayer than it probably was."

This is interesting, obviously for a couple of reasons. One is that, up to this point in canon, as far as I can tell, literally nobody thought any of this sounded the slightest bit gay at all. (Other than, I guess, Fabian Nicieza.) The other reason is that, as we soon find out, it actually was as gay as it sounds. Thanks, Fabian!

In 2002, Nicieza wrote a second miniseries, Citizen V and the V-Battalion: The Everlasting. Issue #1 opens with a flashback set in 1953; specifically, we see Brian's funeral:

Roger is extremely sad, and when Lord Falsworth expresses his sympathy about the death of Roger's "friend" and saying that he knows how much this hurts him, Roger mutters under his breath that he doesn't have the slightest clue:

All is revealed on the next page, when one of the other characters tries to ask Roger about superhero business and Roger snaps at him because, as he says, "I just watched my friend die in my arms."

Except "friend" isn't the word he starts to say:

Yep. That would be "lover." So Roger nearly outs himself. So, yes, now it's absolutely canon. Hooray.

Later on in the issue, which is set in the present day, we have a couple pages of Roger staring at pictures of the two of them and continuing to be sad:

Yeah. They were a couple.

So the question you -- being a Captain America fan -- might ask yourself is, okay, did/does Steve know about any of this? (The reason I started looking all this up was because I wanted to know if Steve knew.) I don't know if we have a panel of Roger specifically admitting any of this to Steve (and if we do, I would like to know about it), but I would be comfortable saying that Steve probably knew back then -- because, well, he seems like the kind of guy who would actually have been fine with it in the 40s, what with all his gay friends -- and also that I can't think of a reason why he wouldn't know now. Because he's definitely worked with Roger again in fairly recent comics, and also Roger is very much out, these days.

In fact, New Invaders #4 (2004) opens with Roger attending Pride:

So, yeah, he's out.

(Then he has to fight, as far as I can tell, homophobic Nazi vampires. They're yelling slurs in German. Great.)

In All-New Invaders #10, which is from 2014 (and which is not the same series as New Invaders), Roger shows up to help out the Invaders, and in passing, he just happens to mention to another character (Joseph Chapman, the current Union Jack), that he is in fact gay:

He and Joseph don't really like each other much; as far as I can tell, their acquaintance in New Invaders consists of Joseph being vaguely homophobic and Roger being bitter about him being Union Jack because he actually wanted to be Union Jack himself to honor Brian's memory -- you know, that thing superheroes sometimes like to do to honor their dead superhero significant others, viz. Hank when Jan was dead after Secret Invasion -- and now Union Jack is this annoying kid and not, y'know, the love of his life. This exchange from New Invaders #4 seems pretty representative of their relationship:

Anyway, yeah, he's pretty obviously out.

Steve isn't actually present for this conversation in All-New Invaders, but he mentions in a later issue of this run that he knows what Roger and his pals have been up to, plot-wise, so I feel comfortable assuming that he's talked to Roger at some point in the previous ten years or so, and therefore, since Roger is completely out at this point in canon, there's no reason Steve shouldn't know now.

On an unrelated note, it's also a fun issue if you're a Steve/Tony fan because this is clearly running in parallel with Hickman's Avengers run, which means that he spends half a page telling Namor that he's mad at him and the rest of the Illuminati (but mostly mad at Tony because... he's just obsessed with Tony in this run, I guess?) about the mindwipe:

This is the sum total of my knowledge about Brian and Roger. No, wait, I know one more thing, which is that Brian was a character in the late, lamented mobile game Avengers Academy, in which he was also actually gay; Roger does not seem to have been there. There's a CBR article that you can read about the whole thing, which mentions some of these details from the comics in passing. (I have no idea why it says that their relationship was alluded to in the Stern/Byrne run; unless I missed something big, the only thing those issues do is establish Brian's death. As far as I can tell, no one is gay in them.)

So, yeah, that's Brian Falsworth and Roger Aubrey, the two gay Invaders. Steve sure has a lot of gay friends.

#posts i actually wrote

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my-writings-and-musings · 3 years

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I have another lovely commission to share! This one is a sequel to the last, with the Brave Police spending more time on the Lost Light to answer questions, and it's just as precious in my opinion!

"Now, now, there's room for everyone. Single file please!"

Ultra Magnus thankfully had ample experience and skill getting his voice to fill the entire classroom, and so the crowd was able to take their seats in a mostly organized fashion at last, filling up the entire room from back to front in short order. Scarcely a single bot on the ship wasn't present for the day's presentation, and one glance at the tightly packed rows of tables made that obvious. No one wanted to miss the long awaited event.

At the head of the classroom, Ultra Magnus murmured about the ill manners being displayed to their guests before nodding at the bots in question. Sitting in their own row at the raised stage, the Brave Police looked like a full representation of all the reactions possible for the center of attention. Some were happy, others flustered, and a few quite casual about all the fuss. Deckerd, ever the responsible leader, held his small collection of notes tightly as he nodded in return to the much bigger bot. Rodimus took that as his cue to hop on stage.

With a single whistle, the captain reduced the fog of chatter to absolute silence, something he took with a proud smile before speaking.

"Alright, everybot, you know the drill! The Brave Police have been kind enough to agree to this little Q and A panel, so let's show them the proper courtesy while they're up here." he announced happily, looking about the crowd and lingering his optics on a few potentially troublesome bots in particular. Making sure to use his Captain voice, he leveled a serious look at each as he issued his warning. "That means no talking unless you get called, and no hogging the mic when it's your turn."

"Discipline will be administered if anyone breaks these rules." Ultra Magnus said, finalizing the warning with an undeniably serious threat. Beyond a few nervous glances, the room remained frozen in total silence after the big bot went back to his dutiful watch. No one present would dare risk incurring the wrath of Ultra Magnus, not even for the questions that they wanted answered more than anything.

"Sooo…" Rodimus interjected, taking back the stage briefly to try and bring some life back into the event. Gesturing to the main guests, he gave the best parting warm up he could before stepping off the stage. "Without further ado, I'm going to give the show over to them. All yours, Deckerd!"

Clearing his throat politely, the police cruiser stood up on his spot, briefly taking hold of the rim on his hat-like helm accent as he often did when nervous. Taking hold of his notes, he spoke up with the somewhat ineffectual tone of a practiced but uncom public speaker.

"To start, we would all like to offer our thanks! For everything you've done, and for allowing us this opportunity, you have our deepest gratitude." the well mannered bot said humbly, briefly glancing at Rodimus for a flash of pointed thanks before returning to his notes. The captain couldn't help but puff up a little, quite proud of his suggestion all over again, but he was otherwise still and silent as he watched.

"Now, I understand you have many questions, and we are happy to answer them as a group or individuals." he explained, looking to his teammates for group confirmation. Each gave some form of assent, ranging from Duke's proper and stiff nod to Gunmax putting his pedes on the table with a vague gesture of agreement. Deckerd merely narrowed his optics for an instant before returning his smile to the crowd. "Through the system, I will begin the process of selection!"

A button on the desk, intended as a method of selecting students to answer questions, was activated. Every bot froze in anticipation that they might be selected first, with each hoping they might be the lucky winner. Magnus had mandated the algorithm select at random to prevent any cries of unfair choice for good reason…

So of course it was quite fitting that Whirl of all bots get the first question.

A group groan was cut off by another Magnus stare, yet the orderly mech was clearly beyond apprehensive at the possible chaos about to unfold. Uncaring of the tension his selection created for the crew, Whirl merely cleared his vents and stood up with obvious purpose, having planned his potential query well in advance of the moment. Looking to the bots on stage, his optic betrayed little emotion as he spoke. "So uh, were you guys actually built by humans? From scratch? Processor and all?"

There was an immediate cringe amongst the entire crew, as the question was immeasurably rude by Cybertronian standards, but the Brave Police didn't flinch.

"Yes!" Deckerd replied happily, completely unaffected by the cultural faux pas he'd just had directed his way. "Each of us was constructed by the Japanese police force, starting with myself."

"Except for Duke, he was made by the Scotland Yard." McCrane specified, drawing attention to the brightly colored and reserved mech at the end. The attention actually seemed to fluster Duke, who flashed an expression of surprise to be singled out before dropping his gaze and quietly confirming the fact.

"That is correct."

There was a moment of mixed murmuring amongst the crowd, with Whirl looking satisfied to have gotten his answer along with getting the ball rolling, and he sat down to allow the next bot a turn. It took just as little time for the next selection to occur as the first.

"How recently was that, exactly?" Swerve said, looking confused but happy to be the central figure of the moment. It was a much less disrespectful question by Cybertronian standards than the first, and the bots on stage appeared equally content to answer it.

"As of this date, it has been four years and five months since my activation." Deckerd replied casually, unintentionally sending a wave of disbelief through the entire room. This mature, well rounded bot was barely more than a protoform?!

"We were constructed seven months later." McCrane said, speaking for the Build Team with a gesture that only deepened the shock in the room. Deckerd was young even by human standards, yet he was still the oldest one on the team? How young was the newest among them?

"Shadow Maru was next, by about a year, then six months later I joined up!" Drill Boy declared loudly, loving the surprise each answer drew from the crowd. Gunmax, equally a fan of stirring things up, smirked confidently as he leaned back in his chair.

"I haven't even been kicking around for a year." he declared smugly, adding to the shock of the bots several times over. Sure, Cybertronians were ready to go in mere hours, but no one had been born in so long… to be confronted by a mechanical being so young was nearly unfathomable. Not to mention that the oldest among them was still so inexperienced! A fresh wave of hushed gossip washed over those assembled, only to fade out into silent anticipation as the next opportunity for a question presented itself.

"What kind of criminals are you fighting? Most of the time, anyway." a bot in back asked, making the Brave Police perk up as a group. Like anyone, the opportunity to retell their adventures was hardly one they'd ever pass up, and even the humble Deckerd was a little boastful as he set up their panel to reply.

"Our division is uniquely suited to handle threats too powerful for humans to safely combat. The criminals we face have a multitude of motives, and it is not uncommon for us to face creatures designed to cause maximum destruction. I will allow my team to recount some of these events in greater detail." he said, opening up the discussion with a smile and a nod. There was a shift in the classroom as if every being leaned forward at once in anticipation.

"The underground bug people were my first mission!" Drill Boy announced proudly, unintentionally creating far more questions than he could have ever hoped to answer in a single sentence. Gobsmacked expressions were shared all through the crew, even by Ultra Magnus and Rodimus at the front. While they'd figured their new friends got into some wild adventures, like themselves, there was clearly so much more to the group than they'd let on…

"There was a giant moth one time." Dumpson recalled thoughtfully, only adding fuel to the fire with his calm expression of thoughtful recollection.

"Don't forget the giant panda." McCrane said helpfully, the tiniest hint of a smile hinting that he was perfectly well aware of the reactions they were getting. Rodimus had to admire the skillful stirring of the pot. Some bots were taking notes now, especially as the list continued to grow and the Brave Police grew no less unpredictable in their retellings. Brief tidbits about mind control, ghosts, aliens and cults were undoubtedly going to spawn some incredible conversations at Swerve's later on.

Drill Boy finished the segment with a beaming smile. "Without the Boss, I don't think we'd have been able to catch that brainwashing nun!"

While every single adventure would have probably called for a panel of questions in its own right, that statement alone made for an excellent segway into something every single Lost Light bot had been curious about, and the moment the next bot was selected they said what everyone was thinking. "Who's this "Boss" we keep hearing about? Are they a bot like you?"

"Our Boss Yuuta Tomonaga is a human boy, and the first being I ever met. He became my first and most trusted companion." Deckerd replied, smiling affectionately at the description. It had been clear from the onset he cared deeply for his mysterious "Boss", yet most had assumed them to be something like an Amica, or perhaps an older mentor bot. To hear they were a human, and one that sounded exceptionally young at that…? Deckerd recognized the confusion, and while obviously a little bashful to be so open, he was more than happy to talk about the achievements of his dearest friend. "I owe him my life, several times over."

"Many of us have gained human friendships." Power Joe said helpfully, taking some of the pressure off their leader and bringing the attention to himself. Not missing the opportunity to brag, he gestured proudly to himself. "I've befriended many of Yuuta's classmates, they see me as a superhero!"

"Yuuta's sisters are compatriots of mine." Shadow Maru said in a polite and subtle one up, setting the stage for the others to continue naming their friends.

"Hmph, I'm the only one besides Deckerd to have called Yuuta by his first name." Drill Boy bragged.

"Colonel Seia has taught me much through our professional relationship." McCrane said calmly, returning the focus to one of individual bonds over boasting. Unfortunately, Dumpson chuckled and quickly took aim at the comment.

"Are you sure it's entirely professional?"

McCrane froze for a second, optics widening and face flushing, before he calmly folded his hands on the table and replied. "I could say the same of you and Ayako."

"I suppose Shunsuke and I get along okay." Gunmax said somewhat dismissively, cutting off Dumpson before he could stammer out something he'd regret. The fact that every bot seemed to have a complex and long standing relationship with humans was quite the surprise to many crewmembers, especially those who only knew the species from second hand accounts. The Brave Police weren't too different from Cybertronians, so if they could find friends amongst Earth's inhabitants, maybe it was possible for everyone? More than a few of those in the audience were considering visiting to see for themselves when the attention turned to the only member who hadn't given an answer.

Lowering his helm to hide his optics from view, Duke appeared to be blushing as he spoke into his microphone, his volume barely more than a murmur as he did so.

"My Lady, Regina, is very important to me…"

While the statement undoubtedly had plenty to unpack, Deckerd mercifully chose to move on, selecting the next lucky audience member. Tailgate stood up in a flash, getting up on his chair and raising his arm so everyone could see him. Smiling with excitement, he was nevertheless quite polite in his tone when he asked his question. "You can transform, right? What are your altmodes?"

"I transform into a police cruiser." Deckerd said simply, earning some nods of approval from the audience. That was a fairly solid alternate mode, from their perspective, and fit quite well with his appearance and abilities. As the team each volunteered their own altmode, there was little fanfare.

"I'm a dump truck."

"My alternate mode is called a power shovel."

McCrane was the first to smile, though his good humor was shared when he gave his answer. "A crane, fittingly enough."

"I have two; a drill and a jet!" Drill Boy declared with a puffed out chest, and the mood went from calm to shocked all over again. Though he had no concept of a triple changer, the young bot knew that having a plurality of modes was special, and the audible gasps confirmed his guess. Rodimus cast Drift a look of surprise from the stage, speaking without words as they so often did. Not only did this guy have two altmodes, but a drill and a jet? Could you get any more wild? Drift replied with an equally stunned but good natured shrug.

"Like Deckerd, I transform into a police cruiser." Shadow Maru said simply, giving his younger friend a look that drew out a very unhappy pout. Sitting up with a smile, he continued and made very clear why his companion was so upset, and in doing so only made the room erupt once more. "I can also take the form of a tank, a jet, and a canine."

Gasps filled the classroom, and even Ultra Magnus was too shocked to silence them, his jaw dropping in total disbelief at what he'd just heard. Five modes?! Not only that, he was a beastformer to boot?! The ninjabot smiled somewhat smugly at the reactions, getting a few looks from his friends that ranged from jealous to bemused as whispered conversations rushed through the bots. Most had never even heard of such an ability, and yet here he was, a bot from earth with so much talent! Several made a note to ask him for tips as Duke took advantage of the chaos to get his simple reply out of the way.

"I am an ambulance."

The medics of the ship all shared a look at what only they seemed to hear, wondering if perhaps the shy bot knew a few things about human medicine he might share with them later. In the murmurs that followed, however, there came a considerable silence as everyone realized the most anticipated answer had not yet been given.

Gunmax leaned back further in his seat, making a face few could decipher when all the attention zeroed in on him. Pretending to cough, he spoke just loudly enough for his mic to pick up his answer. "Don't have one."

Somebot made a comment about "Monoformers'' before Deckerd stepped in, reading the emotions of his friend as well as the room to skillfully redirect them. It saved Rodimus the trouble of jumping in to make an example of the bot who'd made the comment.

"Gunmax typically has a motorbike, one that he can merge with to form a very powerful weapon." he explained, looking at the visor that allowed the mech in question to hide so many of his emotions. A flash of gratitude behind the veneer of apathy allowed him to continue with a smile. "When I combine with J-Decker, I can utilize that weapon for defeating extremely powerful foes."

"We can also combine!" Drill Boy added enthusiastically, pointing to the Build Team and perking up the entire crowd with references to "combining" of all things. Combiners were a precious rarity amongst their own kind, could the humans have truly mastered such technology in addition to multiforming?

"Yes, Dumpson, Power Joe and myself form the Build Tiger." McCrane replied helpfully, gesturing to the group of them and further compounding the confusion. How could they all transform into a single entity, their colors didn't even match! Not only that, but the name absolutely baffled those who had been to earth and those who hadn't. The crane bot only continued his talk and further confounded his audience. "With Drill Boy, our abilities are increased, and we form the Super Build Tiger."

Deckerd, wanting to discuss other things, was granted mercy when he selected Brainstorm via the system.

"What kind of energy do your weapons fire?" he asked, having observed the holsters and folded rifles some of them carried. Being intensely curious as to whether earth had progressed beyond the initial steps of plasma based projectiles, he waited eagerly for a reply.

"Most are based on shells, similar to what humans utilize but on a larger scale." Deckerd said, helpfully taking out his pistol to show what he meant. Metallic bullets fell from the chamber and into his cupped palm, unintentionally shocking the scientist and the more ballistic trained crewmembers. Primitive lead based projectiles, fired by simple chemical reactions?! How were these bots just as intelligent as themselves but defending their lives with the Cybertronian equivalent of stone age technology?!

"Yes, that's what my shotgun fires." McCrane added, patting the sizable weapon on his back as Brainstorm noted a million potential improvements he might offer before they left.

Shadow Maru, somewhat for the sake of dry comedic effect, unsheathed a blade from his back and shrugged as he held it up. "Personally, I prefer swords."

Laughter rippled through the audience, though Rodimus caught the clear sight of Drift looking far more like he wanted to applaud the other bot who seemed to gel so well with him. Unable to keep a grin off his face at the friendship forming before his optics, the captain considered setting up a communication line on earth so they could all stay in touch going forward.

"Where do you all live?" a shy bot said when selected next, bringing to mind how their home planet didn't seem to be built for beings as large as themselves.

"I stay with Yuuta each night, in the garage. His family has made it my personal home, and I keep them safe." Deckerd replied, describing the situation quite wistfully despite the uncertain expressions that flashed before him. The idea of staying within a single room, like a machine for storage… even bots who didn't mind resting in their altmode couldn't wrap their heads around the idea.

"The rest of us stay at the base, but we're free to go where we please when not on duty." McCrane added, wanting to dispel any ideas that they were at all confined. His words did indeed provide some reassurance, especially considering that a few had been considering "liberating" their new friends if necessary.

"When we travel for work, we live wherever we can." Dumpson said, recalling the many times they'd each had to go across the planet undercover. That notion was quite relatable to the group of travelers, especially those who had gone long periods of time without any home to speak of. Needing to find somewhere suitable while moving undercover had been their existence for years.

Gunmax perked up a little at the topic sitting forward a bit so he could be heard as he extolled the wonders of driving around on his bike. "The roads go on for miles, and some have pretty nice views."

When the next question was called, the Brave Police as a group found it was their turn to be surprised.

"Do you like earth?"

In another turn of events that no one could have predicted, it was Duke who spoke up first, saying his piece simply but confidently before returning to his usual silence.

"It is the only planet we've ever known, and I would have it no other way."

"Earth has everything dear to us." Deckerd confirmed, a barely contained gleam of pride shining from his optics, both for their home and his friend. Everything about the planet was dear to him, from the life that flourished there to the people who had made him, and he wasn't at all ashamed to say as much. That was something each and every member of the Brave Police could agree on, and in order, they all expressed the same sentiment.

"Earth has everything we could ever want." McCrane added plainly, looking like he wanted to say more but was held back by his own reservations. The simple smile on his face spoke volumes for him, thankfully. His past mentions of friendship and more with humans resonated deeply with certain bots in the audience.

"We fight lots of bad guys, but that's to keep all the good humans safe, and they're more than worth it." Dumpson said, sharing a glance with Power Joe, who immediately agreed. The big bots many small friends made his answer and confirmation quite easy.

"Most of the people that live there like us, and we like them too. They have a lot to teach us." he said, recalling his love for martial arts as well as everything else he'd ever been passionate about. The need for patience, the importance of seeing the bright side of life, mentoring the younger beings around oneself… Speaking of the younger, Drill Boy jumped in to reply with his own experiences.

"They've invented all kinds of cool games and sports for us to play!" he said happily, tapping the soccer ball in his chest to emphasize his point. The sport was a genuine passion for him, and without humans he wouldn't have it to enjoy. Slightly more bittersweet thoughts of the many adventures he'd had, and the beings he'd met and lost, but wouldn't trade for anything made him smile far more softly. Tapping his digits together, he added a soft addendum to make his point. "Plus they make lots of other cool things."

"There's not much better than going for a drive on earth, or watching the sunset." Gunmax said in agreement, nodding and closing his optics as he played the memories in his mind. The crew talked plenty about their home of Cybertron, and while it sounded wonderful, he doubted anything could ever surpass his home. One of his first memories was going for a drive on a beautiful day, and he didn't believe any planet could ever offer anything more. Not that he'd be opposed to visiting somewhere else...

"It's our home, and it always will be." Deckerd concluded, unintentionally making the crowd a little emotional with his dedication. A far quieter whisper of conversations briefly passed through them all, this time centered almost entirely on the planet in question. Sure, these bots hadn't ever known another world, but they made their own sound quite wonderful. The many who'd never had a chance to see earth were suddenly feeling quite a bit of longing and curiosity of their own. When the quiet descended once again and Deckerd selected the next bot, the query was hardly a surprise.

"Can we come visit you all sometime?"

The entire team exchanged a look, and Deckerd glanced at Rodimus with the kind of knowing smiles leaders could share when they knew what was happening. While the logistics of such a thing would be a nightmare, there could be no denying the eager faces all around, and any potential benefits were far too great to ignore. Though it would be an impossible amount of work, they both nodded to one another in agreement.

"We would be honored to have you as guests, just as you have taken us into your home."

#transformers #maccadam #mtmte #more than meets the eye #lost light #lostlight #idw #tf #ll #brave police j decker #brave series #deckerd #rodimus #my writing #my commissions

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annewritesfic · 3 years

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Happy Endings Don’t Exist

i sat down and worked on this for the last FIVE HOURS y’all better appreciate it

based on chapters 4, 6, 9, and 10 of scarlet by marissa meyer

tw: mentions of gun, knives, blood, attempted murder... i think that’s it but lemme know if i missed anything

word count: 7266

The incarceration of Captain Farrah Thorne had gotten off to a rocky start.

(Farrah was fully aware, of course, that technically she’d been only a cadet when she’d gone on the run, but captain just sounded better.)

After the soap rebellion, Farrah had been put in solitary confinement, but she’d managed to sweet talk one of the guards into giving her their port screen. It was honestly probably because the guard thought Farrah was an idiot and wouldn’t be able to do anything with it, but no matter the reason, Farrah was now sitting cross-legged on her bed, fidgeting with the port screen.

Of course, the guard was right about Farrah not being able to do anything with the port screen.

She’d had it for several hours now and still hadn’t accessed her comms, any news feeds, or anything else useful. Looking up “how to break out of a high-security prison using only a port screen” probably wouldn’t get her anywhere, so now she was just absentmindedly entering the names of people she used to know, wondering where they were now.

The cell was painfully, obviously quiet, but slowly, Farrah noticed the sound of what almost seemed like a drill, coming from the ceiling. She looked up and briefly scanned the room, but there wasn’t much to see - the same plain, shiny white walls. If the prison was remodeling, Farrah hoped her cell was next.

The drill noise suddenly came louder, clearly directly above Farrah’s cell, and she watched curiously as one of the ceiling tiles was removed and someone jumped down, landing in a crouch and facing the wall opposite Farrah. The someone had messy brown hair tied in a ponytail, a crumpled white prison uniform, and one bare foot… and one metal foot. In fact, Farrah realized that the person’s left hand was plated with metal, too, and one finger had a screwdriver sticking out of the tip.

“Hello,” she said pleasantly. The cyborg jumped and slipped, turning to look at Farrah. “It seems you’ve stumbled into the wrong jail cell. Do you need directions to get back to yours?”

The cyborg narrowed her eyes at Farrah. “What…?”

Farrah smiled charmingly.

“These cells aren’t supposed to be occupied,” the cyborg said. Her voice was a little bit hoarse, like they hadn’t spoken in awhile.

“Special circumstances.”

“You’re not a murderer, are you?”

“Stars, no.” Farrah popped her collar proudly. “I started a riot in the yard. We were protesting the soap.”

The cyborg stared at her.

“The soap,” Farrah said again. “It’s way too drying. I have sensitive skin.”

“Huh,” the cyborg said, turning away. They stood up and kicked the fallen floor tile to the side, looking around, then knocked the side of her head with the heel of their human hand. “Stupid, stupid… one room off.”

Farrah watched them press a hand against the wall and blink a few times, like there was something stuck in their eye. “You’re escaping, aren’t you?”

“Not at this very moment, but that is the general idea, yes.” The cyborg sighed frustratedly, then spotted the port screen in Farrah’s hand. “Hey, what model is that?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Farrah said honestly.

The cyborg crossed the room and snatched it out of her hand. “I need your vid cable.”

“My what?”

“Your vid cable. Mine’s on the fritz.” The cyborg sat cross-legged in the center of the room, port screen in her lap. Farrah realized that the screwdriver in their metal hand was a drill, and she watched curiously as the cyborg used it to remove the back panel and pulled out a yellow wire. She kicked the port screen aside and reached up to the back of their neck, unlatching a panel there. After a moment of fidgeting, the cyborg pulled out a blackened wire and then replaced it with the yellow one from Farrah’s port screen. She tossed the blackened wire aside and sighed, a brief smile crossing their lips. “Ugh, that’s so much better.”

Farrah picked up the port screen, mind whirling. “You have a port screen in your head?”

“Something like that.” The cyborg began running a hand across the wall. Farrah watched her pry one of the panels off the wall, and tried to make small talk, but the cyborg ignored her.

“When they locked you up, didn’t they think that maybe there were some… security weaknesses with you?” Farrah asked.

The cyborg sighed, sitting back on their heels and blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “There weren’t. The hand is new.” They stared at the open wall for a moment, thinking.

“You wouldn’t happen to be convicted of breaking and entering?” Farrah said, only half joking.

The cyborg rolled her eyes. “If you really have to know, two counts of treason, resisting arrest, and unlawful use of biolectricity. Oh, and illegal immigration, but I kind of think that’s a little excessive.”

Farrah squinted at her. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“How the hell-”

“It’s really complicated and I don’t wanna talk about it,” the cyborg snapped.

“O-kay.” Farrah sat back. “By the way, what’s your name?”

No response. The cyborg kept doing… whatever they were doing behind the panel.

“I’m Captain Farrah Thorne,” she said. “Most people call me Thorne, though. Or Captain. Or Captain Thorne-”

“Kate,” the cyborg said. “Just Kate.”

“Wonderful to make your acquaintance!” Farrah smiled brightly. “Are you in need of an accomplice? Because I happen to be a criminal mastermind-”

“Go away.”

“Um.” Farrah looked around the small, one-room cell. “Where?”

Kate closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then kept working.

“What’s your plan for when you get out?” Farrah asked.

“The most direct route out of the city is north,” Kate muttered. White flecks of plastic from the wall dusted their dark hair, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, my poor, sweet, naive little convict,” Farrah tutted. “That’s exactly what they’ll be expecting from you!”

“Please stop distracting me.”

“We might be able to help each other!”

“Leave me alone.”

“I have a ship.”

Kate actually looked at her.

“A spaceship,” Farrah said in a sing-song voice.

“A spaceship,” Kate repeated doubtfully.

“Yep!”

The cyborg paused, as if reading something on the wall behind Farrah. “It wouldn’t happen to be a stolen ship from the American Republic?”

“Yeah, how did you…” Farrah trailed off, then grinned and tapped the side of her head. “Port screen in the head?”

“The Republic hasn’t found the ship yet?”

“Nope. At least, I hope not. Stripped the tracking equipment, and it’s hiding in a warehouse over by the plague quarantines.” Farrah raised an eyebrow. “So? Need that accomplice?”

Kate said nothing and turned back to the wall.

“You look exhausted,” Farrah commented. “Need a back rub?”

Kate jolted upwards with a growl and whipped around to face Farrah. “Please, just-- just stop talking. Leave me alone.”

Farrah gasped a little and fell back against the wall, mind whirling. Kate’s image wavered just a bit, like heat in a desert, and Farrah’s heartbeat sped up, her head filling with thoughts of worship and devotion and surrender.

She was beautiful. Divine. Perfect.

“All right,” Farrah said slowly. “Anything you’d like.” She turned to face away from Kate, eyes watering, and the silence settled over both of them. Farrah and the cyborg, prison mate, goddess.

FARRAH THORNE

ID #0082688359

BORN 4 JUNE 106 T.E., AMERICAN REPUBLIC

FF 437 MEDIA HITS, REVERSE CHRON

POSTED 12 JAN 126 T.E.: EX-AIR FORCE CADET, FARRAH THORNE, HAS BEEN CONVICTED AND SENTENCED TO A SIX-YEAR PRISON SENTENCE AT THE END OF A SPEEDY TWO-WEEK TRIAL…

The green text scrolled across Kate’s vision without prompting, showing them a detailed record of the crimes of the annoying convict sitting just ten feet away. Despite only having turned twenty a few months ago, Farrah Thorne was guilty of one count of military desertion, two counts of international theft, one count of attempted theft, six counts of handling stolen goods, and one count of theft of government property.

“Government property” didn’t seem to do justice to the fact that Farrah Thorne had stolen a spaceship from the American Republic military. The spaceship she was so proud of.

She was currently about six months into her six year sentence in the Eastern Commonwealth (for attempted theft of a second-era jade necklace), but she was also wanted in Australia and, of course, America, and after this sentence was completed, would be standing trial and serving time in those countries as well.

Kate didn’t pause their work to think, even though her mind was racing. Escaping from prison was one thing, but could she really aid the escape of this actual, real criminal, in a stolen spaceship?

It’s a whole lot harder to find a criminal in space than on Earth, their mind tempted. Kate scowled and shoved away the thought.

Behind them, Farrah Thorne sat on the little white cot, chin resting in both hands, staring at the wall. Kate only risked half a glance back every few minutes - just looking at her made them feel guilty.

Leave me alone.

The words had tasted like fire, like ashes and burning and smoke. That heat had spread through Kate’s veins again - not as painful as it had been at the ball, but still not comfortable, either. She was pretty sure that using her gift - a genetic trait Lunars were born with that allowed them to sense and manipulate the biolectricity of other living creatures - wasn’t supposed to burn like that, but it was probably just a side effect of using it again for the first time in years. Probably for the first time ever, really. Kate didn’t know much about the Lunar gift, but it seemed unlikely that a three year old would be able to control it, and she’d only lived on Luna until they were that old.

Thirteen years ago, though, Queen Levana had tried to murder Princess Selene.

She’d tried to murder Kate.

By some miracle, Kate had survived and was smuggled down to Earth, and now thirteen years later, the lost Lunar princess was kneeling in a jail cell, white flakes of plastic decorating her white prison jumpsuit, the drill implanted in their metal hand helping her break out of New Beijing prison.

Literally, what the fuck?

Dr Erland had figured it out weeks ago, but had only decided to tell them less than twenty four hours ago, after Levana had recognized them at the annual peace ball and threatened war if Kate wasn’t immediately thrown in jail for being an illegal Lunar emigrant. Dr Erland had decided that was the perfect time to pay Kate a visit, give her a new foot (seeing as theirs had fallen off on the palace steps), a fancy new cyborg hand with the latest attachments, the biggest shock of her entire life, and instructions to meet him in Africa. Right. Easy-peasy. Break out of a high-security prison and meet a crazy doctor in Africa.

Kate risked another glance back at Farrah, still sitting on the cot with that dazed smile. A spaceship would make it easier to get to Africa…

Still, just looking at Farrah brought back that flash of guilt, and Kate had to turn away.

She hadn’t meant to use their gift on Farrah. They were still learning how to use it. It took three tries to convince a guard to move her to a more convenient cell, and shutting Farrah up had been completely on accident - she’d just wanted Farrah to stop talking for ten seconds, and the heat of their gift had surged from the base of her neck and spread to her fingertips and leaked into her voice, prompting Farrah to do…

To do exactly what Kate wanted her to do.

It hadn’t felt good. It made Kate feel awful and guilty and like the worst person on Earth - stars, how could Lunars stand having this gift, let alone love it the way they did?

I don’t want to have this gift. I don’t want to be Lunar.

I just… wanna be the old me again.

Kate pushed away their spiraling thoughts and stood up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Farrah looked up at them with wide eyes, sitting up eagerly.

“I’m sorry I manipulated you,” Kate said, the words coming out a little bit jumbled. They tried again, slower this time. “It was an abuse of power and it wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.”

Farrah frowned. “Are you the same person who was just here?”

“Yeah…?”

“Oh.” Farrah looked her up and down. “You seemed a whole lot prettier before.”

A little bit of Kate’s guilt faded away. “Listen, Cadet-”

“Captain,” Farrah corrected.

“Cadet,” Kate repeated forcefully. “You can come with me if we make it to your ship, and if you try not to talk so much.”

Farrah eagerly stood up, almost losing her balance for a moment. “Sick!”

Kate glanced back at the hole they’d created, having found the entrance to the air ducts. “So this ship of yours is the one you stole from the American Republic, right?”

“I prefer borrowed. They didn’t exactly have proof I wasn’t gonna give it back.”

Kate immediately began to regret this.

“And you’re sure the ship isn’t traceable?” they asked.

“Of course I’m sure.” Farrah tossed her hair over one shoulder. “I told you, I removed all the tracking equipment immediately.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Kate held up her left hand and ejected the stiletto knife in the thumb. “We need to remove your ID chip. Hope you’re not squeamish.”

Farrah’s eyes widened, but she closed her eyes and held her wrist out. “Please try not to hit anything important, okay?”

Kate quickly removed the ID chip and tossed it aside, then cut a strip of cloth from Farrah’s sleeve for her to wrap around the wound. There was already a scar there, probably from where she’d cut out her ID chip the last time she’d been on the run.

Farrah pressed the cloth against the cut on her wrist and grinned at Kate. “Is it just me, or is this a big moment in our relationship?”

Kate glared at her. “Do not make me regret this.”

The air duct was cramped and hot and uncomfortable. Kate’s metal leg scraped against the bottom of it every time they crawled forward. Farrah, to her credit, stayed quiet, but Kate was so agitated that even just her breathing was annoying. Any sound ran the risk of getting them caught. Honestly, it was a surprise they hadn’t already been caught.

Kate checked the clock in her head. She’d left their cell thirty two minutes ago.

The prison blueprint glowed brightly on the retina display over the dark air duct, a tiny blue dot representing Kate and displaying where exactly they were - and with Farrah in tow.

Stars, Kate had to sneak both of them out safely. This was going to be hard enough on their own, how was she supposed to get both of them out?

You could glamour her.

Kate bit their lip. That was true… she could convince Farrah that she wanted to tell them exactly where her ship was, then make her decide that she didn’t want to come after all. Farrah wouldn’t have a choice but to listen.

“You good?” Farrah asked softly.

Kate shook her head just a tiny bit. No, they wouldn’t glamour her. Not again. She’d made it sixteen years just fine without a Lunar gift, and they’d be fine without it now.

“I’m fine, just… checking the blueprint,” she whispered back to Farrah. “Almost there.”

“Bluepri- ohhh, port screen-”

“In my head, yes.” Kate rounded the corner and saw a grate just a few feet ahead, casting a checkered square of light into the duct. “Okay, that’s it.”

Slowly, carefully, Kate crawled over the grate and then awkwardly turned around so both of them could look down. Below was a loading dock, where food and other supplies were brought in for the prisoners, and almost directly below the grate, a storm drain, exactly where Kate’s blueprint promised it would be. The drop was a full story, and there was concrete below, but besides that, this was almost going to be easy.

“The exit ramp should be that way,” Farrah whispered, pointing.

Kate shook their head. “No, we’ve got to get into that storm drain.”

“We’re going through the sewer?”

“What, did you think we’d just walk to your ship in broad daylight wearing bright white prison uniforms?” Kate rolled their eyes. “The sewer is our only way out.”

Farrah started to reply, but the sound of voices below made both of them duck away from the grate, out of sight.

“I didn’t see her dancing with the cyborg, my sister did. Her dress was soaking wet and wrinkled like a garbage bag.”

“But why would the empress dance with a cyborg? And then for them to go off and attack the Lunar queen like that… no way. Your sister was seeing things. I bet she was just some crazy who wandered in off the street, bitter over some cyborg injustice or whatever.”

The conversation cut off at the sound of a delivery ship. Kate bit their tongue at the voices shit-talking them and dared to peek over the grate again. The delivery ship passed by below, backing towards the loading bay and coming to a stop directly below where Kate and Farrah crouched in the duct. Kate took advantage of the noise and unscrewed the grate’s screws, then Farrah carefully lifted it up and to the side. Kate ignored the way their heart was thundering and carefully moved lower, looking down to get a better view, and saw, just a foot away, a rotating camera.

Kate jerked back up and crouched lower automatically, her retina display recommending deep breaths to calm down. The camera wasn’t facing their direction, thank God, but between the camera and the delivery workers unloading below, there was no way they’d make it to the storm drain undetected. And every second brought the risk of a guard discovering their empty cells - twice as many empty cells as Kate had planned to leave behind.

They made a decision and, without leaving time to question it, slowly and carefully reached their cyborg hand out, palm flat against the ceiling, and felt around for a moment before finding the camera’s lens. The plastic crushed easily in her bionic fist, the crunching noise terrifyingly loud.

“What the hell was that?” Farrah hissed.

“Camera.” Kate listened for a moment, but none of the workers below seemed to have noticed. “Time to go. We probably only have a few seconds before they realize they’re missing a camera.” Kate took a deep breath, pulled herself over the edge, and dropped down onto the roof of the delivery ship. Farrah followed.

Kate’s metal leg clanged loudly against the roof of the ship, and the whole thing shook on both impacts, immediately drawing the attention of all three workers. For a moment, the five of them just stared at each other, but then one of the workers reached for the port screen on his belt.

Kate focused for a moment, and the man’s hand never reached his port screen, hovering in the air just above it instead.

“Don’t,” they hissed, pushing away the guilt. The fire began to spread through her body again, but they ignored it, mind whirling.

Turn around.

They did.

Close your eyes.

They did.

Cover your ears.

They did.

Hum.

They did.

Farrah gaped at Kate. “What are they doing?”

“Obeying,” Kate muttered over the buzz of the humming. Hopefully that would keep them from hearing the storm drain open and realizing where the two escaping convicts had gone, and that was the only thought that kept Kate from releasing them, even as the guilt and the hatred of this stupid goddamn gift began to spread alongside the fire.

The fall into the storm drain was about as far as the fall onto the ship, but this time, Kate almost gagged at the sensation of the oily water against their bare foot. She envied Farrah’s shoes as she landed beside them, replacing the grate, and then they both turned to the round concrete tunnel beside them. It was only waist height and stunk like garbage and mildew, but Kate set their jaw and crawled into it.

“Ew, oh my God, that’s disgusting! Get it off me!”

Kate nearly slipped in their haste to turn around and look back at Farrah, who was jumping and squirming in the cramped tunnel, shrieking. Kate’s embedded flashlight flicked upward to the ceiling, and the cluster of cockroaches made her shudder, but they turned away and kept going.

“A cockroach won’t kill you,” they called.

“It’s in my fucking uniform-”

“Be quiet, there’s a manhole up ahead.”

“And we’re exiting through that manhole, right?”

Kate scoffed.

The idea of a cockroach in their shirt did make her shiver a bit, but Farrah’s squeamishness wasn’t as important as the map of the sewer system overlaid on top of their vision, guiding her to the warehouse where Farrah swore her ship was.

Plus, Kate was walking through ankle-deep sludge with one bare foot. That was easily worse than a thousand cockroaches.

“Wait, what's that noise?” Farrah asked.

“The combined main line,” Kate answered just as the worst stench Kate had ever had the displeasure of experiencing reached them.

“Aces and spades,” Farrah said, choking. “That had better not be what I think it is.”

“We’re not just gonna be walking through surface water runoff soon,” Kate said simply.

“You’re joking. For the love of fuck, tell me you’re joking.”

Despite the stench, Kate smirked.

That smirk didn’t last long as the stink got worse. They both took shallow breaths, but Farrah had her shirt over her nose by the time they reached the sewer connection. Kate’s flashlight washed across the edge of a concrete wall, then against the metal grate on the far edge. It was stable enough for maintenance workers, although unfortunately covered in rat droppings - although the rat droppings were easily preferable to the churning, brown, two-meter river of sludge between them and the grate. Kate hadn’t eaten since before leaving the apartment building before the ball, which was the only reason she didn’t vomit from the stench.

“Alright, ready?” She inched closer to the edge. “The faster we do this, the faster it’s over with.”

“Wait- no, no, what the hell are you doing?”

“What do you think?”

Farrah almost backed up against the wall, but thought better of it when she felt the slime there. “I’m not walking through that. Don’t you have some sort of gadget in that fancy hand of yours that could get us across?”

Kate rolled their eyes and glared. “Oh, wow, thanks for reminding me about my grappling hook.”

The water, thankfully, only went up to their thighs, but Kate still barely managed not to gag as they crossed, the current surprisingly strong against her legs. Something squished under her foot, and Kate almost screamed. Thankful for the weight of her metal leg keeping them from losing her balance, Kate made it to the other side and crawled up onto the grate, still taking shallow breaths even as they began to get light headed.

“Okay,” they shouted across to Farrah. “You either cross, or you can go back and serve the rest of your sentence, but you have to decide right now.”

Farrah gulped, staring at Kate’s legs. They risked a glance down and pushed away the wave of nausea at the way the stark white pants now clung, greenish-brown and sopping wet, to their legs.

“Are you coming?” Kate shouted.

Farrah scrunched her face up and muttered a series of creative curses, then lowered herself into the sewage and trudged across, still muttering curses the entire time. She finally made it to the grate and heaved herself up beside Kate, glaring daggers. “That was the worst thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“That’s what you get for complaining about the soap,” Kate said lightly. “Which way?”

Farrah pressed her lips together, thinking. “It was near the old Beihai Park, whichever way that was.”

“You mean we didn’t have to cross that river?”

Farrah’s eyes widened. “What?”

Kate smirked again. “Only messing with you. C’mon, this way.”

“How long have we been walking?” Farrah asked as they started down the tunnel. “Feels like hours.”

Kate checked her internal clock. “Twelve minutes.”

“Bullshit.”

Kate saved their breath and didn’t answer. To Farrah’s credit, it did sort of feel like they’d been walking for a few lifetimes, hearing the sounds of rats skittering past and water dripping from the ceiling. Kate’s flashlight glistened on the slimy walls, and they passed another manhole before finally making it to the one by Beihai Park.

“We’re about a block away from the park,” Kate said, putting a hand and a foot on the ladder. “Does West Yunxin sound familiar?”

Farrah squinted. “I think?”

Kate rolled their eyes and started to climb. She pushed the manhole cover up and to the side, almost gasping at the sudden gust of fresh air, before a hover glided overhead. Kate ducked down below the manhole, heart pounding at the lights atop the vehicle, but then it turned a corner and the red cross painted on the side revealed itself as a medical hover, not a police one, easing Kate’s fearful vision of androids with cold, emotionless voices and brain-interface-overriding tasers. The old warehouse district was near the plague quarantines, so it made sense that there were medical hovers.

Kate glanced to make sure the road was deserted before pulling themself up and into the sun, uniform glaringly bright against the pavement. Farrah followed and replaced the manhole cover, and Kate crossed her arms, pushing down the worry about being caught. “Okay, which way?”

Farrah squinted. Turned in a circle. Twisted her lips to the side thoughtfully.

Kate resisted the urge to scream.

“You have to recognize something, right?” they asked desperately.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just been awhile,” Farrah said quickly. She turned to face down the street. “This way!” She walked five steps, then stopped and looked around again. “Or, um… maybe this way?”

“Do you have an address?” Kate demanded.

“A captain always knows where her ship is! It’s like a psychic bond,” Farrah protested.

Kate glared. “If only we had a captain, cadet.”

Farrah rolled her eyes and marched down the street with spectacular confidence, and Kate followed, jumping at every sound and hugging themself nervously. They walked for three blocks without seeing anyone, and Kate started trying to think of a backup plan as Farrah slowed and began scanning the nearby buildings.

“There!” Farrah said, pointing. “That one, I’m sure of it!” She walked up to the warehouse, which looked the same as every other warehouse within a mile, and tried the door. “Goddamnit, it’s locked.”

“D’you have a key?”

Farrah glared at Kate. “Yep, let me just pull it out of my prison issued pocket.”

She’s got your escape ship, Kate reminded themself, teeth grit. You can’t hit her.

They kneeled down besides the ID scanner, examining it. “D’you think it’s alarmed?”

“It had better be! I’ve been paying rent this whole time, and it wasn’t for my darling to be sitting in an unprotected warehouse.”

Kate was beginning to wonder if one punch would really be so bad when the door swung open.

“Thorne!” the strange man said loudly. “I just saw the news, thought you’d be showing up here soon!”

Farrah’s eyes lit up. “Hey, Alak, what’s up? I’m on the news? How do I look?”

Alak’s attention flitted over to Kate, and the smile slipped from his face. Kate kept her expression neutral (mostly, but a glare was part of their resting expression anyways) and took a second to check the newsfeeds. Sure enough: ESCAPED CONVICT. CONSIDERED ARMED AND DANGEROUS. IF SEEN, COMM THIS LINK IMMEDIATELY.

“Saw you on the news, too,” Alak said flatly.

Farrah coughed a little. “Hey, I need to pick up my ship. We’re kind of in a hurry.”

Alak shook his head. “Sorry, Thorne. The feds already watch me close enough. I can always claim ignorance to storing a stolen ship, but assisting a felon, and assisting… one of them-” Kate wondered if he was referring to their Lunar heritage or cyborg limbs- “If they track you here, I’m toast. I won’t tell anyone I saw you, but I can’t let you take your ship ‘till this all blows over. You understand, yeah?”

Farrah made an extremely offended face. “But she’s my ship! I pay you a lot of goddamn money, Alak, you can’t keep her from me!”

“Every man for himself, you know how it is.” Alak looked back at Kate with an expression of revulsion. “If you leave now, I won’t comm the police. And if they show up here, I’ll tell them I haven’t seen you since last year when you dropped off the ship. But if you stay a minute longer, I swear to fuck, I will comm them myself.”

Kate glanced down the street, and their heart leaped into her throat at the sight of an emergency hover without the red cross on the side. “Look, we need that ship. We don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Alak sneered and stepped back into the doorway. “I’m trying to help you out, ‘cause Thorne’s been a good customer for awhile, and I don’t rat out my customers, but it isn’t a favor to you. I wouldn’t blink twice about sending you off to rot. It’s the best you freaks deserve. Now fuck off, before I change my mind.”

Kate clenched her fists, barely containing a cry of pain as the burning returned, white hot as it spread from the base of her neck. They managed to stop the burst of electricity, white spots blinking in their vision, just in time to see Alak’s eyes roll back as he passed out.

Farrah caught him, groaning. “Aces, he weighs a ton!”

Kate fell back against the wall, suddenly dizzy. “He’s not- fuck, he’s not dead, is he?”

“No, I think he’s fine.” Farrah groaned again under the weight. “Ugh, help me, will you?”

Kate reached for Alak’s feet, and they tugged him into the building. The office to the left had two net screens with security footage on one side and a newsfeed on the other.

“He’s a selfish ass, but he’s got good taste in jewelry,” Farrah murmured, holding up his limp wrist with a golden watch.

Kate slapped her hand. “Can you focus?” They both turned and scanned the warehouse, packed with all sorts of ships - cargo ships, podships, personal flyers, raceships, ferries, cruisers-

“Hey, look, there was another jailbreak.”

Kate looked back at the netscreen, reading the words that scrolled across the bottom. LUNAR ESCAPES FROM NEW BEIJING PRISON. CONSIDERED EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. Wonderful.

“This is awesome!” Farrah said with a laugh. “If they’re tracking down a Lunar, they won’t think twice about us!”

Kate pressed her lips together and looked back at the array of ships.

“Wait… you’re Lunar?!”

“Yes, dumbass, I can’t believe you haven’t noticed.” Kate put their hands on their hips and raised an eyebrow, hiding the way she wanted to curl up under the desk and hide until the world forgot Kate Dalton had ever existed. “Which ship is yours?”

“Woah, woah, woah. Assisting a crazy Lunar is a bit out of my league-”

Kate laughed sharply, humorlessly, throwing their hands in the air. “If it wasn’t be me, you’d still be rotting in that fucking jail cell, so you owe me. And you’re already on the news as my accomplice, so it’s a bit too late to go back. You look stupid in that picture, by the way.”

Farrah looked at the screen that showed her own prison picture besides Kate. “I think I look pretty good.”

Kate took a deep, shaky breath. “Farrah, please.”

Farrah thought for a moment, then sighed heavily. “Fine, let’s go.”

Kate managed a sigh of relief and followed Farrah into the mess of ships. “I hope it isn’t one in the middle.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Farrah pointed up. “The roof opens.”

“Huh.” Kate looked where Farrah was pointing, at the seam across the ceiling. “Convenient.”

“Here she is!”

Kate’s retina display automatically began downloading the ship’s information as Farrah proudly pointed to it. It was larger than they’d anticipated - way larger. A 214 Rampion, Class 11.3 cargo ship. Two satellite podships, six crew quarters, a galley and a washroom… definitely enough room to avoid each other.

“You know, there was a time when she housed a crew of twelve men,” Farrah said, patting the side of the ship.

Kate walked around to the main entry hatch, noticing that the seal of the American Republic had been hastily painted over with the silhouette of a lounging woman. “What the hell?”

“Painted it myself,” Farrah said.

Kate sighed.

“Over here!” an unfamiliar voice shouted from across the warehouse. Kate glanced back and saw a man in the uniform of the Eastern Commonwealth’s military crouched over Alak’s unconscious body.

“Shit, fuck, shit,” they muttered and shoved Farrah’s shoulder. “C’mon, time to get out of here, let’s go.”

Farrah turned to the hatch and cleared her throat. “Alright, Rampion. Code word: Captain is queen. Open hatch.”

Nothing happened. The hatch stayed stubbornly closed. Kate started to panic.

“Captain is queen,” Farrah said again. “Captain is queen! Rampion, it’s me! Captain Thorne! What the hell-”

“Shh,” Kate said quickly, pressing up against the hull of the ship. Just on the other side, soldiers with searchlights had begun making their way through the warehouse, combing it for them.

“Maybe the power cell is dead,” Kate thought aloud.

“But it’s just been sitting here-” Farrah cursed. “I left the headlights on, didn’t I?”

Kate ignored their rising panic. “Maybe it’s the auto-control system? I’ve never worked on anything bigger than a podship, but I doubt it’s that different.” They put a hand on Farrah’s shoulder. “Stay here and keep trying to get in, okay?”

“Where are you-”

Kate snuck around the side of the ship, moving as quickly as possible, the blueprint she’d downloaded a few minutes earlier glowing over their vision. She found the access hatch easily and got it open even easier, and crawled into the undercarriage of the ship, barely avoiding the wires that criss-crossed in her way. The second interior door was more of a challenge, but with their flashlight and screwdriver, Kate was in the engine room within a minute.

The engine was bigger than she was, looming against the opposite wall. Kate brushed past it and found the computer motherboard, pulling the universal connector cable from their hand as they went, and snapped it into place. The flashlight dimmed, and Kate turned it off as her power was diverted, reading the pale green text that took over her retina display.

DIAGNOSING COMPUTER SYSTEM. MODEL 135v8.2

5% … 12% … 16% …

Farrah pressed herself behind the landing gear, heart pounding in her ears. “Captain is queen, captain is queen,” she hissed, even though she was pretty sure it was useless.

A subtle hum started up over her head, and she looked up at the running lights flickering on near the ship’s nose with a spark of hope. Gears started to rumble, and Farrah rolled out of the way just in time to avoid being squashed beneath the ramp.

“There!” shouted one of the soldiers.

Farrah swung herself up onto the ramp. “Rampion, close hatch!”

Nothing happened.

A bullet pinged off the overhead light. Farrah swore and ducked behind a plastic crate. “Rampion, I said close hatch!”

“I’m working on it!” said a voice overhead.

Farrah froze and nervously glanced up. “Rampion…?”

No response.

Just before the soldiers could follow Farrah onto the ship, the ramp creaked and began to rise, blocking more and more bullets as it went. Once it was safe, she rushed to the cockpit, keeping her balance with a hand against the wall as she slid into the pilot seat. The windows were filthy, but she didn’t have time to worry about that right now.

“Rampion, ready for liftoff!” she ordered.

The dash lit up - only the most important controls and screens.

That same cold feminine voice rang over the speakers. “Farrah, I can’t set the automatic lift, so you’ll have to take off manually.”

“Why is my ship talking back to me?!” Farrah yelled, panicked.

“It’s me, dumbass!”

Farrah furrowed her eyebrows. “Kate?”

“The auto-control system has a bug, and the power cell is weird, too. I think it’ll make it, but you have to take off without computer assistance.”

Farrah gulped. “Without- are you sure?”

“You know how to fly, right?”

“Y-yeah, of course!” Farrah scanned the controls.

“We’re fucked.”

Farrah reached for the controller on the ceiling and blinked as the warehouse doors opened, smacking her in the face with a bright beam of sunlight. She jabbed at the ignition and engaged hover mode, smoothly easing the ship off the ground with the help of the magnets beneath the city. Farrah’s breathing began to steady.

Then the ship began to tilt to the left.

“Woah- hey, stop that!” Farrah shouted, leveling the ship.

“The power cell is going to die. You’ve got to engage the backup thrusters.”

“The wha- wait, no, I found them.”

The sudden jolt of power made the ship lurch to the right, and Farrah winced as she slammed into the ship beside her. A wave of bullets slammed into the starboard side. Farrah shivered.

“What’s going on? What the hell are you doing?”

“Stop distracting me!” she shouted through gritted teeth. She tried to right the ship, but overcompensated and they tilted too far to the right.

“We’re gonna fucking die.”

“This isn’t as easy as it looks! Normally I have an automated stabilizer to take care of this for me!”

Oddly enough, she received no sarcastic reply.

Another panel lit up to her right. MAGNETIC CONDUCTORS STABILIZING. POWER OUTPUT: 37/63 … 38/62 … 42/58 …

The ship settled and once again began to hover evenly.

Farrah grinned. “Exactly like that!”

The engine roared as the ship soared upwards, a last wave of bullets sending them away as they broke free from the warehouse.

“C’mon, darling,” Farrah said softly, as the ship easily broke through the magnetic field of the city and speared through the clouds of the morning sky. The skyscrapers of New Beijing were only visible for a moment before they dropped away, and then it was just Farrah and the ship and the open starry sky ahead of them.

Farrah’s knuckles were white around the controls until the ship made it to neutral orbit, then she slumped back into the chair, shaking. She forgot to speak for several minutes, her heart too loud to hear anything else, before she said “hey, if you want a permanent position on the crew, you’re hired.”

No response.

“And I don’t mean, like, the lowest rank,” she continued. “First mate? I mean, everything’s available. Mechanic… cook… a pilot would be nice.” She waited. “Kate?”

Nothing.

Farrah sighed and pulled herself to her feet, leaning against the wall as she walked along the hallway that was as familiar to her as her cell in the prison had eventually become, down to the engine room. The screen by the door didn’t say anything about space vacuums, or about a living cyborg inside.

Farrah unlocked the door and shoved it open. The engine room was loud, hot, and stank of melted rubber. It was too dark to see, but Farrah squinted anyway, a bit terrified of what she’d see.

“Cyborg? Are you in there?”

Nothing.

Farrah squeezed her eyes shut. “Lights, on.”

A red emergency light was the only one that turned on, casting a sinister light over the revolving engine and masses of cords.

Farrah spotted something white.

“Kate?” she called again, getting closer. Kate didn’t move. As Farrah got closer, she saw them on their back, dark hair fanned over the steel floor, eyes closed and bionic hand plugged into a computer panel.

“Hey,” Farrah said nervously. She put a hand on Kate’s shoulder and gently shook, but got no response. Farrah pressed an ear against her chest, but the engine was too loud to hear a heartbeat.

Farrah reached and unplugged Kate’s hand from the computer panel, and a robotic voice came overhead, the same one Kate had used to talk to Farrah during takeoff. “Auto-control system disconnected,” it said. “Engaging default system procedures.”

“Cool, you do that,” Farrah said, dragging Kate into the hallway. God, whatever the hell those cyborg limbs were made out of, it was way heavier than a normal human limb.

Farrah propped Kate up against the wall and frowned. At least in this brightness, it was obvious that they were breathing. “Do you have, like, a power button or whatever?”

Her gaze fell to the hand, a cord still dangling from her pinky.

“Aha!” Farrah leaped to her feet and opened the podship dock, then tugged Kate in between the two small podships. She grabbed for the podship’s charging cord from the wall, then paused, looking back and forth between the charging cord and Kate’s cord. Dammit, two males. They’d never connect.

Farrah glanced down and saw the small latch on the back of Kate’s head.

“Aces and spades,” she groaned. “Tell me it’s not…”

But all signs pointed to yes.

Farrah kneeled next to Kate and looked away as she opened the panel, then snuck a glance and breathed a sigh of relief when she realized Kate’s control panel hid any brain tissue from view. The compartment was shallow enough that the ship’s lights were enough to see by, and she quickly spotted a small outlet, the same size as the plugs.

“Gotcha,” she whispered, hoping she wasn’t about to majorly fuck up as she plugged it in and leaned Kate back against the wall.

For a moment, nothing happened, but about a minute later, something hummed inside their skull. It got louder and louder, but then stopped, and Farrah gulped, tucking her knees up to her chest.

Kate’s eyes flew open, and she gasped, looking up at Farrah.

“Kate…?” Farrah said nervously. “Are you dead?”

Kate took a moment to speak, and when they did, the words were slurred. “Auto-control defaults… almost drained my power system…”

“Uh, I think it did.”

Kate stared at her for a moment with a confused expression, but then reached up for the cord still plugged into the back of their head and yanked it out, slamming the panel shut. “You opened my control panel?” they demanded harshly.

“I didn’t want to! And I saved your life!” Farrah pointed out.

Kate paused and thought for a moment.

“Well… I guess that was quick thinking,” Kate finally assented.

Farrah grinned. “Are we having another moment?”

Kate slumped back on the floor. “I guess. If you consider another moment to be me not wanting to strangle you for the first time since we met - although maybe I’m just too exhausted.”

“I’ll take it!” Farrah stretched out on the floor beside Kate, enjoying the coolness of the steel, the humming engine next door, the smell of sewage still wafting from their clothes, and the sensation of freedom.

#we are the tigers #the lunar chronicles #kate dalton #farrah watt #blood tw #gun tw #knife tw #ask to tag #holy shit this took forever #this is probably going to be the longest installment of this whole series #enjoy

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quantumfeat72 · 5 years

Text

So I wrote a story for the Humans are Space Orcs thing? Is it too late for this?

Read it on AO3, or under the cut.

August Giminshi was, by all rights, a frail little human. Barely five feet tall, all shrunken corners and stilted, shifty movements. They spoke choppy, formal Common and jumped at sudden noises. I heard whispers around their name before we met - none of it true, obviously, except that they were ex-military. They had a timid disposition - not of a socially anxious youth, but more of a wild animal, like something that would ignore you if you left it alone, but bite your head off if you got too close. I left them alone.

Our crew was mostly Sybaalt engineers and geologists - you didn't need a lot of brawn for this kind of mission, but you never knew with planets like these and the general wisdom was to bring a human if you go anywhere dangerous. I could tell why they picked August - kid looked about as unintimidating as humans get, with their short, scrawny limbs and stubby teeth, but anyone who's spent some time around humans knows the jumpy ones are the most dangerous.

So I left them alone, even though I was there for the same reason they were - insurance in case something went wrong. In my line of work you end up on a lot of teams with humans, and usually you do better to have some polite conversation with them every now and then (with those pack-bonding instincts of theirs, they usually like company). But I didn't want to risk starting trouble with some paranoid ex-military human who people told weird stories about, and there wasn't going to be any fighting on this trip anyway. Sybaalt - they were always paranoid.

August spent most of their time in the common room, not talking to anyone, just kind of sitting there working on something in their hands I never got a good look at. Sometimes I'd go out to get a bite to eat and they would be doing nothing - just sitting in one of the soft nests in the room, watching the ceiling. I never saw them eat, which struck me as rather strange for a human. I asked Captain Dyrall once if the kitchen had even stocked food for them, to which ze replied that humans could eat anything Sybaalt could, so ze hadn't bothered getting human-made ration packs. Ze said August brought snacks of their own for any uniquely human nutritional needs, and overall demonstrated zir understanding of the situation so I didn't push it after that.

Still, I knew that humans constructed elaborate rituals around eating times and food in general, so it felt strange to have one in the next room while I ate who didn't insist on joining me. Perhaps it was their way of giving me space, which seemed a little odd, but wasn't so strange when I realized that if they were ex-military, they'd probably known a lot of other Gathalra. Maybe they'd even fought against us during the war for earth. That was a vaguely terrifying thought. I left them alone, and they paid me no particular mind.

A few weeks into the expedition, I was passing through the common room when the ship suddenly shook and I almost lost my balance. When I got back to my feet, I saw that August's fidgeting had gone still, and their face had shifted. They stood, silently, and left the common room. Something in their demeanor made me nervous, and I followed them.

They went straight to the hull, where Captain Dyrall was standing over Pilot Calligna's shoulder. Dyrall appeared slightly agitated, but Calligna was calm, and nobody who wasn't paranoid would be concerned about a little bump in flight - it happens all the time.

Captain Dyrall spoke. "Are you certain it wasn't..."

"For the last time, Captain, I'm sure." Calligna's words were cross, and he turned to meet the captain's eyes as he spoke - that's meant as a challenge, for Sybaalts, and I was getting ready to watch a fight when August stepped into the room.

"Something isn't right," they said, calmly and matter-of-factly, like describing the weather. "I think that wasn't a normal bump. Is anything behind us?"

Calligna looked like he wanted to argue, but you don't argue with the human whose job is to keep you alive. He turned back to his control panel and tapped at it, then replied, "No, there's nothing."

August looked past him at the control panel, squinting. They didn't seem convinced, which didn't surprise me for someone as skittish as them.

They were making Captain Dyrall nervous though, so I spoke up. "It's probably nothing, then."

August turned quickly to look at me, startled, but relaxed and looked back at the screen. "Probably nothing," they agreed, "I'm going out to check on it, just in case."

"Good," said Dyrall before anyone could object. "Adalhia, go with them."

I wasn't fond of the idea of leaving the ship to check on some ghost, but at least it was something to do, so I agreed and trailed behind August as they headed toward the airlock. Various engineers cautiously looked after us, distraught at the knowledge that we had a job, and I figured it was best not to say anything lest they think it was worse than it was and start a panic. It occurred to me that a paranoid human like August seemed a good fit for such a paranoid crew.

Anyway, we made it to the airlock and they suited up and left without a word, and I waited inside, because even if something WAS wrong I'd be more use in here where I could actually move if I had to. I turned my comm on and told August to ping me if there was something worth reporting, to which they calmly agreed.

Now, I only know a couple of words in English (the most commonly spoken Human tongue), and 'fuck' is one of them. It's a very versatile word, and I've heard a lot of humans adopt it into Common sentences. It's a word for when you've accidentally walked into something and hurt yourself, or when your mental state is somehow compromised and you can't form coherent sentences. It can be used to emphasize just about any emotion you'd like to express, but alone it usually means something bad.

It's not a word you want to hear an overly-formal, timid human shout multiple times as they crash back into the airlock.

"EVACUATE THE SHIP!" they yelled into the comm, and I had to pull it away from my face to hear them.

"What's going on?" I asked, and they made a frustrated sound.

"Later!" they shouted, "Just go!"

I prefer to know what I'm running from before I run, but you don't argue with the human on your crew, so I sprinted back toward the hull to tell Captain Dyrall, yelling at the engineers on the way to get to the escape pods.

When I was halfway across the ship, there was a sound, and then an explosion. The ground shook. I scrambled along it. There was a flash of red, and then silence. I ran.

The hull was empty, so I went to the pods and found a dense crowd of terrified scientists shuffling into them. Another sound. The lights went dark. There was yelling, and I was still, and August was behind me.

"That's everyone," they breathed, and we climbed into a pod, and the lights came back on, and we took off into the sky.

Through the small, cloudy window of the pod, I saw what August had seen: a ship three times the size of ours, covered in cannons, getting ready to shoot us. The build was unmistakable. It was a Gathalran warship.

Dyrall was yelling into the pod's comm, trying to get in touch with the other ship. They couldn't have gotten this close without us noticing, not unless they used their cloaking tech and were really, really careful. They had a reason for this. I ran my head through my own list of enemies, but I didn't even know anyone in the military.

August was staring at me.

The ship didn't answer, and I watched another missile come from the warship and crash into ours. August stood and spoke to the captain in hushed tones, and ze spoke hurriedly into the comm. I was surrounded by terrified scientists. I may as well have been one of them, all the help I was being. Put me in a room with a wildbeast or an angry Sybaalt, I can claw and bite my way out of that, but I'm no use on a ship.

August sat down next to me and spoke quietly in perfect, formal Gythryll. My native tongue. "Did you do this, Adalhia?" they asked simply, watching me.

"Where the shit did you learn Gythryll," I muttered back to them. Their face didn't change.

"We have more pressing concerns. You don't look like someone who betrayed someone - you look like someone who's been lied to about something. I don't think you meant for this to happen." They took a breath and glanced around at the others, some who were watching us and some who weren't, and then they looked back to me. "Between us, Adalhia, if you had something to do with this, I care a lot more about any information you have that would get us out of here than whatever led to it. I'll give you one chance to be honest with me."

They said it slowly and carefully, without hostility, but there was a bite to their unspoken threat. "I couldn't bring a warship down on us if I wanted to," I answered truthfully. "How do I know this wasn't you?"

August laughed. It wasn't a good laugh.

Captain Dyrall shouldered zir way over to us. "The Gathalran ship isn't answering," ze said nervously, to both of us. "I don't know what to do. Should we run?"

"No," August and I said in unison. August continued, "We run, they follow. Loop around, get behind them. We're going to board their ship."

"Are you insane?" I asked, and Dyrall seemed to be thinking the same.

August looked at me. "What other choice is there?"

"Surrender," I offered uncertainly.

"Tried." They shook their head. "Running is death. Staying is death. Our options are to fight." They looked back up at Dyrall, whose face was the picture of fear and horror. "Gathalra warships have a blind spot just behind the third engine. Hide there, get me and Adalhia inside, wait. We do the rest."

"And what exactly does 'the rest' entail?" I asked.

August smiled, maybe for the first time since I'd met them. "We do our job," they replied simply.

August wrapped their hands in bandages, despite not being wounded: a human behavior I'd only heard of where they use cloth as makeshift armor to protect their hands while they fight. I didn't have any weapons on me - I'd never needed them, and I didn't know how to use them - but I noticed August moving a small knife from one pocket to another. Captain Dyrall silently positioned us behind the warship, and we took the only two suits on board. The other pod stopped in a similarly hidden position, and we got ready to leave.

This plan was insane. Our chance of success was less than abysmal - it was zero - but I didn't have much of a choice in the matter. As little reason as I had to trust August, they were right. If I was going to die, I'd prefer to die fighting.

"It's time," said August.

We slipped into the tiny airlock together and waited for the pressure to dissipate. August muttered something in English, eyes closed. The door opened, and we drifted down to the edge of the warship. I had never seen one up close before. August led the way to a small maintenance airlock on top of the ship. It didn't matter how quiet we were at this point - they'd know we were here as soon as we climbed in. August turned to me and showed their teeth in a human 'grin,' and asked, "Are you ready?"

There was nothing to say to that, but I nodded, and they opened the airlock.

It was quiet when we climbed down. The air was thicker here, more akin to my home planet than the thin air in the Sybaalt ship. I expected alarms the moment we got inside, and both of us took our suits off as quickly as we could. August opened their knife and I unsheathed my claws.

There was no alarm. August lowered their weapon by small degrees and glanced at a panel on the wall. I followed their eyes and saw the display - it looked like a list of names and ranks, with post assignments and little 'accounted for' marks next to each. August pocketed their weapon. "Weird," they murmured, and then said louder, "Looks like we got lucky; someone's not paying attention."

Before I could question them, they took off down the hall with a little 'follow me' gesture. The ship was a maze - it was meant that way, all Gathalran warships are. August didn't hesitate a moment at the turns, except for a quick check at each corner to look for hostiles. I kept an eye out behind us, and saw nothing.

"Is it just me," I whispered (in Gythryl, since I knew they understood it anyway), "or is this ship weirdly empty?"

"It isn't full-staffed for damn sure," August whispered back, and I was taken aback by their language, but they didn't appear distressed. We passed another wall-panel, and August stopped to point at it. "You saw the list, right? Only five names. Ship this size, it'll need everyone on deck just to run. It's strange."

"Do you recognize any of the names?" I asked, figuring I may as well go through their list of enemies as well as mine - between the two of us, August was the more likely target.

August shook their head. "Do you?"

"No..." and then I noticed something. "There's no Captain listed."

"Never is," August replied without hesitation. "Any rank above Major, you're not on the list."

"Why?" I asked.

August just shrugged. "Come on," they muttered, and we were moving again.

My mind wandered to the rumors I'd heard about August before we met. I'd dismissed them out of hand - they were, by all rights, absurd - but now... Now I wasn't so sure. I'd heard they were raised by Gathalra, that they'd fought against Humanity in the Earth War, that they'd reached the rank of Admiral in the Gathalran army before suddenly quitting. It couldn't all be true, but what if...

I shook the thought from my head - the Gathalran military has very strict, honestly kind of prejudiced rules about who can reach what rank based on race and caste, and I may be guilty of looking it up before I met them - Humans can't even go above Sergeant. Still, the way they moved on this ship made it seem like they could have been raised in it.

We reached a door, and August drew their weapon and hugged the wall, gesturing for me to do the same. I took the other side of the door and got ready for a fight, and August opened it.

The gunshots I was expecting didn't come. August entered the room, weapon ready, glancing back and forth warily. I followed suit, watching for any signs of life. Nothing moved. I looked back to August, who was staring at the control panel on the side of the room.

"This isn't right," they said. "This is the gun room. Somebody should be here." They walked over to the control panel, resting their hands on the desk. Their movements were tense and strained, like prey that knows it's already caught. "They know we're here," they whispered, not with fear, but with certainty.

"What do we do?" I asked dumbly, and watched them tap their stubby claws on the surface of the desk nervously.

They took a long, deep breath before they spoke. "I can disable the cannons from here. We do that and call Dyrall, tell them to leave without us."

"What-"

"We have to watch their backs," August insisted. "We run, they follow, remember? Except they know you and I are here - that we're not running. I'll disable the cannons, Dyrall and the others run, and we'll stay behind and finish this."

"They don't need the cannons to follow Dyrall," I pointed out. "They can follow with us on board and send somebody to get the cannon controls back online."

August hesitated, but shook their head. "I don't think that's their game. They know by now that we're here; there's only one place those pods could be hiding. They could've shot Dyrall to pieces by now, but they haven't."

"What the hell IS their game, then?"

August breathed and shook their head. "I don't know," they said, and straightened to their full height for the first time since I'd known them.

"So you expect me to just lay down and die for this plan, huh?"

They turned around to look me in the eye, and I couldn't help but to back up a step. "That's our job," they said. "I know it's not the same for you Gathalra, but when a Human swears to protect someone, that means up to and including sacrificing their own life for that person. The two of us die, here, and everyone else lives." They sat at the desk and started pushing buttons on the control panel. "If you want to run back to the ship with your tail between your legs, do it now. I'm staying."

"Why do you care?" I asked, bitterly. "You're not pack-bonded with that crew. It's just a job."

"Well I take pride in my job," they responded, unfazed. "Unlike some people."

They were calling me a coward, and I got the impression that was the worst insult a human like them could come up with. I watched them tap-tap-tap at the control panel, and I hoped they knew what they were doing.

The panel dinged, and August straightened again. "Last chance to turn back," they said. "I'm signaling Captain Dyrall."

"I'm not leaving," I said, and I hadn't been sure until I said it, but the decision was already made.

August gave me this look, like that was the last thing they expected me to say. They blinked a few times, and then smiled. It wasn't one of those strange human smiles when they bear their teeth at you - it was calm, and friendly. They smiled, and then they pulled out their comm and patched through to the escape pods.

I noticed for the first time that when they switched to Common, they hesitated with their words. "Go," they said to Dyrall. "Now."

"What about you?" came the staticky voice over the comm.

August seemed to consider their words carefully. "We stay; make sure you get out. Be careful."

There was nothing for a long moment, and then, "Thank you. Good luck."

August turned off the comm and slid it into their pocket. We waited. There were no cannons. There was no fire raining from above. August watched the control panel, tapping their tiny claws on the edge of it like it helped them breathe. "Let's give them ten minutes," they said in Gythryl. "Then we'll find whoever's running the show and finish this."

"Do you think they're after you?" I shouldn't have said it, but I did.

August tensed visibly in their seat by the controls. They didn't look at me. "I'd be lying if I told you I didn't have any enemies in the military," they said. "I don't think any of them would do this, but..." they shrugged, a half-hearted little gesture that I wouldn't even have noticed if I didn't know as much as I did about humans. "Who knows," they finished.

"Are the rumors about you true?"

"Which ones?"

Wasn't it obvious? "I don't know," I said. "Any of them? I heard you were raised by Gathalra - I thought it was complete garbage, but you speak Gythryl better than some Gathalra I've met, you know the layout of this place by instinct, you hardly act human..."

"I guess it depends on what counts as 'raised.'" August turned around to face the center of the room, holding a pen they'd picked up somewhere and twirling it in their hands while they spoke. "I mean, at the time I would've told you I was basically an adult, but that's just a phase everyone goes through as a kid, you know?"

"This answers none of my questions," I said.

August laughed, for a moment, and then they got really quiet, and stared at nothing for what felt like a few minutes.

"What happened?" I asked, and it seemed to startle them.

They shrugged. "I joined the army. Thought I was an adult, you know?"

"How old were you?"

"Sixteen." August held out their hands and started holding up different numbers of fingers, like they were referencing them for something. "So about the maturity of a twenty-five year old Gathalra, give or take."

Gathalra don't leave their family until they're at least thirty. I didn't until I was thirty-six, and I have friends who still lived with their families at forty or older. You sure as shit aren't allowed to join the military at twenty-five. "Do humans not have an age requirement for the military?" I asked.

August shook their head no. "Nah, you aren't allowed to join until you hit eighteen. 'Course, if they're in the middle of a big war and low on volunteers, and you have some badly forged documents lying about your age, maybe nobody'll look too close, and you can get in anyway."

"Why would you do that?" Honestly, I couldn't understand why anyone joined the army at all, let alone a kid who wasn't even supposed to be able to.

August's expression shifted, just a little, and then they looked back up at me with a smile that didn't really look right. "Hey, enough about me," they said. "What's your story?"

"My story?"

"Yeah, as long as we're telling stories. Everyone has a story." August stretched their arms in front of them and returned their eyes to me with a more natural-looking grin. "Why'd you become an escort?"

'Escort' is the human name for it - anyone else would just refer to us as the 'ship humans,' and sure, it's a weird job for someone who isn't actually human. I shrugged. "Not much work for a Gathalra who isn't a warrior," I said. "It's easier to look intimidating and babysit some paranoid Sybaalts than to actually learn to fight."

"Not the safest of jobs," they pointed out. "And you don't strike me as a reckless person."

I didn't have an answer to that that didn't sound mean. I tried to put it lightly. "I usually take the jobs that aren't actually that dangerous. Besides, most crews get a real human first, and I'll tag along if they think they need another one. I mean, it's not like these guys were likely to need our help."

"Fair enough," said August, sounding much less judgmental than I had expected after their 'coward' speech earlier. "Isn't it hard, though? Having a job that doesn't mean anything?"

I didn't have an answer to that.

August checked the time. "We should get ready to move," they said, and muttered, "They must know we're here..."

"GIMINSHI!"

We both jumped. The voice was coming from August's comm. I didn't recognize it.

"August Giminshi!" it continued, "Do you read!" The voice spoke Gythryll, and sounded distressed.

August hesitantly walked up to the comm and hit the button, and spoke into it. "Dalrhia? What's going on?"

"Oh thank the heavens," the voice - Dalrhia - replied. "Where are you?"

August's eyebrows lowered and they sounded unimpressed when they spoke. "This connection wouldn't be secure under the best of circumstances, Rhia. I don't know what you had to do to contact me but I'm not-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get the picture." Dalrhia replied dismissively. "Listen, you've gotta get out of there. It's General Gyantel - " August's eyes widened at the name - "He's stolen a ship, he's looking for you and-"

"What does he want?" August interrupted.

Dalrhia caught their breath. "He's out for blood, August. You have to run."

"It's too late to run. Are you safe?"

"For now. I stowed away- wait, are you on the ship?"

August laughed. "Alright, whatever rock you're hiding under, stay there. I'll call you when this is over."

"Woah woah WOAH. Don't you DARE try to fight him. You've got to run-"

"Can't run. My ship's blown up."

"Then come hide!"

"You can't hide forever, Rhia. Be careful, alright? I'll call you when this is over." They were about to turn off the comm when-

"Wait," Dalrhia said, and there was a pause while August let them think. "If- if you're planning to fight him, go to my room first. He cleared out the armory but I have some spares, you need them more than I do, just be careful, okay? Don't get killed."

August smiled. "Thank you, Rhia. You too."

"Yeah, yeah, just go," said Dalrhia, and August turned off the comm.

Then they turned to me and said, "Looks like this one's on me." They paused to think, tapping their claws on the comm's speaker. "Rhia doesn't know you're here, which means if someone was listening to us, chances are neither do they. You can find her and wait this out - your chances are better that way."

I started to think through what they said, but the answer presented itself without any consideration. "My chances are better if we beat him. I'm coming with you."

August laughed, briefly, looked away from me, and stretched their arms behind them. "You have no idea what we're up against here," they said. "The trained warrior Dalrhia has the good sense to hide. Have you ever even used a gun?"

"Is it hard?" I asked.

"Not really," they replied. "The hard part is that they'll have guns. He's got three or four people with him - even with your help we'd be outnumbered." August took a breath and pocketed their comm, still not looking at me. "You may be an escort, but you're still a civilian. I can't involve you in this."

"I'm already involved," I insisted. "I'm not backing out now."

August laughed again, and I wasn't sure what kind of laugh it was. "Alright, I'm going to tell you one more time to hide."

"I'm not going to hide."

August's laugher stopped and they were quiet for a second. "Fine," they said. "Follow me."

We started off down the hallway again. It was quiet as it always had been, but now August's movements were faster and I found myself struggling to stay quiet as we walked. We got to the crew's quarters and August went straight toward the one with Dalrhia's name on it. I followed them inside and they pointed to the left edge of the room.

"Okay," they said, "you start there and I'll start over here and we'll work towards the middle."

I watched them for a second when they started looking and saw the way they tested the floor panels to see if they were loose, and I tried to follow suit on my half of the room. It was a pretty plain room, without much to hide a weapon stockpile under, but I noticed by Dalrhia's nest there was a photo of a group of Gathalra warriors with one human.

August found something first and called me over. They placed a small, heavy weapon in my hands and held up a similar one.

"Alright, here's how you use a gun," they said, and started pointing to different parts of it and explaining. "Don't point it at anyone you don't want to hurt. Keep the safety on when you're not holding it. Hold it like this - keep your claw off the trigger unless you intend to shoot someone. Aim with one eye and line up your target with the top of the gun. You can shoot six times before you need to reload - don't lose track and don't waste bullets." They paused and put their own gun between a few layers of their clothes. "I think that covers it," they finished. "Don't get shot, alright?"

"I think I could've guessed that part," I said, hoping I'd actually remember everything- well, anything they just told me.

"Just be careful, Ada," they said as they stood up and headed toward the door. They then paused, as though remembering something. "Er-" they said, turning back to me, "Can I call you Ada?"

I knew 'nicknames' were a thing among humans, but I hadn't imagined I'd ever receive one. "Sure," I said, confused that they'd bothered to ask permission and a little taken aback by the break in August's serious tone.

They just smiled and ducked through the door, and we were moving again.

It was a big ship. Bigger than these warships looked from a distance. Bigger than should have gotten close to us without anyone noticing. I guess I'd always known warships like these had really advanced cloaking tech, but I never thought it was quite this effective. The hallways were full of turns and forks, designed so no-one who was unfamiliar could navigate it. I lost track of where we were as soon as we started moving.

August moved quickly and efficiently, never hesitating at a turn for even a moment. It was hard to be afraid when they seemed so comfortable - their face showed no fear, their movements were quiet and precise. I felt for the gun in my belt, made sure it was still there.

We came to the brig. August took one side, and I took the other, and we pushed our way inside.

Gunshots. Two Gathalra- armed. I raised my weapon, fired, missed. August shot once, twice, and they both went down. They aimed farther and I saw three more. "Hold your fire," they said to me.

I didn't see the reason for it, but I did what they said. August raised their voice to be heard by the three in front of us. The Gathalra's weapons weren't out, but they were getting ready to draw them. Their claws were out. "Gyantel," said August. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

The center Gathalra growled at us and I gripped my gun tighter. There was no peaceful resolution to this - what was August doing?

"I have an offer for you," said August.

One of the Gathalra at Gyantel's side bared their teeth and growled, "You think you can talk your way out of this, August? You'll pay for what you did."

"I saved your damn lives and this is the thanks I get? And it's Giminshi to you." Human naming customs were unfamiliar to me, but the way they said this made it sound like an insult. August went on. "And I think you should consider it, because if you move now I can shoot at least two of you before you ever get to me."

Was that a bluff? I looked to August, but if they were posturing their body language didn't show it. There was no way they could shoot with that much accuracy at this range, right...?

Then again, these firearms were invented by humans.

"General Gyantel of the Gathalra," said August, "I challenge you to a duel."

Gyantel blinked and stared openly back at us. A duel - of course humans were one of the few species to have ritualistic combat. I had considered it purely a Gathalra custom until now. August didn't blink. Gyantel spoke. "What are your terms?"

"Just you and me - no allies, no weapons. To the death, and no matter who's the winner, a ceasefire between your people and mine.

They were still trying to protect me. I'd call them foolish, but it was only human.

Gyantel considered us for a long moment, and his posture relaxed. "I accept," he said, and stepped forward.

August lowered their gun and handed it to me. "Don't interfere," they said. "Unless he cheats, in which case you have my permission to shoot him."

"Are you sure about this?" I asked them, and they shrugged.

August shed their outer layer of clothes. Their hands were still wrapped in the cloth they'd applied on the ship, and they left the bindings on. Without their coat, they looked even smaller, like a woodland prey animal whose only defense against predators was to run. They stepped forward.

One of Gyantel's people counted them off.

He was on August before I had time to blink, but they'd jumped back already and darted to his side. They attacked with their balled up hands, aiming for his gut, his neck, his face, and he threw his claws around in wide strikes August ducked to avoid. They grabbed the fur on his back and climbed onto him. He yelled and reached around to grab them, but they held firm. He let himself fall backward and landed on top of August, and I heard them yell from under him, but they were still holding on when he stood back up. They climbed up to his shoulders and wrapped their arms around his neck. Gyantel grabbed their arm with his claws out, and they were bleeding.

One of Gyantel's people approached the fight, and I edged closer to them just in case. Gyantel roared and tried to throw August off of him, and their body swung close to the approaching Gathalra, who flinched backward, then knelt to pounce and opened their claws.

"Behind you!" I yelled, too late, and then August was a mess of blood on the floor at the Gathalra's feet. Gyantel looked at me and I remembered my gun.

I closed all of my eyes but one and aimed down the top of the weapon. Gyantel pulled his own gun out and I pulled the trigger. He fell, and there was a gunshot to my left. I turned and fired without looking and there was a pain in my arm. I was close enough to attack normally, and I swung my claws at the Gathalra and met flesh, and they were down. I felt metal against my neck.

"Don't move," said the other Gathalra, pressing his gun to my head. I froze and tried to think, and the pain in my arm grew and festered. I saw blood when I looked down. "Do you have any idea who you're defending?" They asked. It wasn't a question. "You fucking ship-humans," they continued, "protecting anyone who pays you, even who don't deserve it, even people like them."

"Well, honor isn't a strictly human concept," I said, struggling to stay conscious, "not that you'd know anything about that."

They growled, and I was getting ready for some dramatic heroics but my head was starting to hurt and my arm was giving out under me, and I felt so tired. I growled back at them instead, tried to act intimidating, but it was useless.

The gun on my neck pulled back and I braced myself. There was a noise, and I turned to see the Gathalra on the ground, August on top of them, yelling, and there was a gunshot. I relaxed onto the floor and closed my eyes. Everything hurt. I heard August's voice, "Rhia! Warrior-Dalrhia, do you read!" Static. "Get to the brig, it's over and I need a pilot." Muffled words, then August's hands on my arm, on my wound. It hurt, and I tried to pull away. "It's alright," said August's voice. "You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be fine."

"I thought you were dead," I mumbled, not really hearing myself, and August laughed.

"It takes more than that to kill me," they said, and then, "Just hang in there, Ada. We're gonna be fine."

I drifted, and fell asleep.

When I woke up it was warm. I knew without opening my eyes that it had been a while - my body had shut down to heal, and my arm barely hurt anymore. I could smell medical supplies, so I was in a hospital somewhere. Whatever happened, it was over now. I opened my eyes and sat up, looking around the room. I expected to be alone. I was wrong.

August was sitting in the corner of the room, their feet up on the table, holding something in their hands - it looked like the same thing they'd had on the ship, but I couldn't see it any better now than I did back then. They saw me move and glanced up at me, smiling without teeth.

"How long have you been sitting there?" I asked.

August shrugged. "On and off for a few days. Not like I had anything better to do."

"You do seem to be very good at sitting around," I muttered through the haze of lightheadedness.

"It's my specialty," August replied, unperturbed. They put down their project and walked over to the nest I'd woken up in. "How are you feeling?" they asked, looking down.

"Better now," I replied vaguely, and stretched my arm to see that it still worked. I doubted it would ever feel normal again, but I'd live. "You?"

"Oh, I'm fine," they said, too quickly.

"My left ass you're fine," I said without thinking about it, and August laughed.

"Sorry- sorry," they said between gasps of laughter. "I'll never get used to Gathalran swears," and they said some phrase to themself in English, and caught their breath.

"Let me see," I said, and August met my eyes briefly before backing away a step.

"It's fine, Ada." I'm sure they knew I didn't believe them. They turned away from me and continued, "It looked a lot worse than it was. I got lucky." They started to walk back to their seat, but hesitated, and barely turned back towards me to say, "You saved my life, Adalhia. Thank you."

I'd heard it said that the fastest way to earn a human's loyalty is to defend them in combat. August has since assured me that the fastest way to earn a human's loyalty is to give them food. They insist that the meal I bought them after we got out of the hospital is the real reason they wanted to partner up with me, and not the whole pack-bond-forged-in-combat Gathalra nonsense. Captain Dyrall and the others had made a safe landing nearby, and regrouped and finished their mission without us.

Ship-humans don't normally work in teams, but it's not unheard of. And I guess we have a reputation now, so we may as well stick together for a while. As humans go, there are worse people to work with. And besides, it's a dangerous job, and you know the common wisdom:

If you go anywhere dangerous, you'll want to bring a human.

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impalaanddemons · 7 years

Text

Enterprise Crowd - Part 2

Summary: These are the adventures of Reader, a Lieutenant Commander assigned the Enterprises IT engineering team. Her biggest flaw? Her temper.

Wordcount: 1850

A/N: This week in “Enterprise Crowd”: Heads are butted. Curse words are said. Are they gonna kiss or murder each other? Bets are on. No sweet fluffy “Monty” in here, I’m sorry.

Warnings: F-Bombs, Cursing, general head butting and techno babble. People yelling at each other.

PART 1

„FUCK,“ every motion on the bridge came to a sudden halt at your loud exclamation. „Is everything alright down there?“ asked the voice of Captain Kirk himself, who turned his head and leaned over his seat at the same time. „Captain, Sir, yes.“ you crawled out from under a panel and ripped the cables attached to your PADD off at the same time, prompting another curse, although not as loud or rude as the one before. „I’m sorry, Sir. Telemetric System C is now rebooting, the quantum processor got a bit jiggled up.“ - „I suppose jiggling up is an occurrence Mr. Scott will want to hear about.“ Kirk said, half a smile on his face. You could see at least a dozen eyes switching back to their respective posts, although most of the other present crew members were still clinging to a mug of coffee. Coffee. Nice hot coffee.

Your PADD showed the rebooting sequence and you flicked through the logfile. „Yeah, all fine, Sir. Telemetric System C is online again.“, you stuffed your PADD into your backpack. Alpha hadn’t officially started yet, but you had received another call from the bridge and had spent a delightful hour scrambling behind a control panel, running diagnostics and murmuring to yourself until you had pinned down the problem and then cut your hand on a metal edge - which prompted the aforementioned curse. „Your hand is bleeding, Lieutenant Commander Y/L/N“, the captain nodded into your direction. „It’s just a scratch, Sir.“ you assured the Captain, who shot you a look that seemed rather unconvinced. „I’ll report back to Mr. Scott and take a detour to medbay afterwards.“ „How about you make that detour now, kid.“ a pair of heavy hands landed on your shoulders, the soft drawl of the Doctor himself behind you as he started to guide you to the door. The handsome devil was known for hunting down everyone on the ship if necessary, even the captain himself. „I appreciate the concern, Doctor McCoy, but I’ve got a really important meeting at start of Alpha and Mr. Scott will flay me alive if I don’t attend it.“ „I will have to have a serious word with Mr. Scott on your behalf then.“ „Please don’t.“ you said, practically flinching at the thought. He raised an eyebrow and, to Kirks visible amusement, led you right to medbay.

When the Doctor finally released you after putting you in the dermal regenerator, of all things!, Alpha was well underway and you were skipping through Jefferies tubes to cut the way to Engineering as short as possible. You made a mental note to avoid bridge from now on. That place was definitely cursed and you now knew why security and engineering avoided that place. „Dammitdammitdammit“ you cursed as you slid down a tube, past an Ensign screaming from surprise and landing just a few meters from your Commanding Officers office with the hard ‚THUMP!‘ of heavy issue boots. You immediately picked up speed again and basically bolted through his office doors. Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott had already lifted his head from some ‚damned paperwork‘ at the commotion outside and seemed fairly unsurprised to see you standing there, panting and sweaty and overall apologetic looking. His eyes flickered to your bandaged hand and a expression of concern crossed his face, but was replaced within seconds by a stern look. „Lieutenant Y/L/N, is there not only a micro climate, but also a different time zone where yer room is located?“ You pressed your lips together before you opened them up again to speak. Already you could feel your temper flare. „No, Mr. Scott, last time I checked Life Support Zone C was working fine.“ His right eyebrow lifted just the tiniest bit and you bit your tongue. „Yer late.“ he stated. „I noticed.“. Why. Why did your mouth had to have a life on it’s own in front of him. „I mean“, you added, concerned by the look on his face „I had a call to the Bridge, Sir, and my hand got hurt and Doctor McCoy insisted on me accompanying him to medbay.“ A moment of silence stretched between the two of you as he got up and folded his hands behind his back, taking a leisurely step in your direction. „I assume yer well?“ „Yes, Mr. Scott.“ „I’m sure I dinnae need to remind ya of yer behavior last night.“ „No, Mr. Scott“ you answered and took a deep breath. „I want ya to retrain those AIs, so that something like last night will not happen again.“ He could see the „But“ written on your face and in the way you clenched your teeth. „We cannae have something like tha’ happen again, Lieutenant.“ he stressed. You opened your mouth and the look in his eyes dared you to challenge him. The scotsman took another step closer and you could see how the light got caught in his dark brown hair, the angry line that furrowed his face now. „Sir“ „I hope that’s a „Yes, Sir“, lass.“ The beeping of your communicator broke the tense silence. „Am I allowed to get that, Mr. Scott?“ He gestured a yes with his hand and you flipped your communicator open with more force then necessary. It was Vance. „Yes … No …“ it was difficult discussing in a civil manner with Vance, while the fire in your superior officers eyes seemed to challenge you even now. „I’m at Mr. Scotts Office, Vance, I’ll come right away.“ Shutting your communicator you lifted your face to Montgomery Scott. „I have to assist my team, Sir, but I’ll get to your request right after that.“ „Ya can go, Lieutenant Y/L/N“ he stepped back, finally releasing the tension between the two of you. Without further ado you turned around and strode away.

„You know, most people on the crew that work with him simply refer to him as Scotty“, Vance said without looking up from the diagnostics output he was reading. „So?“ you shot back grumpily. The words in front of your eyes slid past you without making much sense. „I’m just saying that he values good work and if you retrain those networks he’ll forget what has happened.“ „You mean I should save my sorry ass by being a nice little engineer?“ Vance rolled his eyes at your remark and continued to scroll through the data on his PADD. He knew better then to argue with you at this point. You tried to focus on your work. Reconfiguring. Yeah. Great. That would take you at least until end of Beta, you would never leave those systems unattended during a retrain. Probably an all-nighter. „The bastard can kiss my - „ Vance never learned what part of you the Enterprises’ Chief Engineer could kiss, as T’Sai opened the door to your teams office with an accidental loud bang. „Well, I’m gonna bugger off. Got to retrain some networks.“ you muttered and got up. „Gonna see you in mess later on?“ „Fuck you, Vance.“

„Okay, now inject the learning variables for the last manual warp core overrides and let’s see how you get along with that madmans attitude.“ you mumbled to the machinery while working, slid the data-PADD into the computing unit in front of you, then leant back to watch the graphs on your PADD change and shift. The blueish tint of the Enterprises datacenter was calming, but the cool air made your fingers go numb. You’d normally work from a remote office, but today you valued the secluded place down in the Enterprises belly. While the system worked through the data you’d fed it, you took the bandage off - if only to save yourself the trouble to go and visit medbay again tomorrow. „Hah“, you muttered, typed something on your PADD and restarted the learning algorithm. „If it wasn’t, it has to be!“ you said in a mock accent and let out a deep sigh, closing your eyes at the same time. Maybe you could just take a nap, while this thing worked. Gamma had crept upon you two hours ago already and you knew the lights on the ship were slowly dimming down. „Mr. Scott really can-„ „Ach. I really hope I dinnae have to listen to the end of tha’ sentence, Lieutenant.“ Once again on this day you sprang to attention, nearly tripping over the cables around you. „At ease“ the scotsman said and eyed the room. You eased, but just a little. „How is the training going?“ „Good, Sir.“ „And yer not working remote because …?“ You were positively sure you’d murder that man at some point, if only for questioning seemingly everything you did. „I like being alone, Sir.“ you remarked. He grabbed the PADD and studied the output shown without answering to your scathing remark. „Looking good, probably ready by Alpha.“ You sucked in your upper lip and nodded along. „Ya dinnae need to sit by it’s side for the rest of the night, Lieutenant. Yer relieved until Alpha. Get some sleep.“ turning away from the PADD he saw you shrugging. „I’ll not leave the system unattended to while in this state.“ „It’s only training, the network is not even deployed, lass. If it fails during nightshift ya can get back to it tomorrow“ „Just leave it alone? Waste more time?“ you raised your shoulders and felt a deep furrow appearing on your brow. „It’s … not just any network, Sir. I’m sorry to say, Sir.“ you drew in a deep breath and pressed your lips onto each other once more. „That’s no true AI, Sir, it needs supervision. It’s … it’s …“ another deep breath: „It’s gonna be part of the Enterprises subconsciousness! If it has to feel the ships ailments for us, we have to care for it beforehand. And you want it to practically sense whatever thing you’re up to at any given moment - that takes time!“ you had not noticed how your voice had gotten gradually louder, practically yelling at him. Mr. Scotts face changed from bafflement, to a certain softness and settled on a cool expression afterwards. „Thank ya for explaining my ship to me.“, he said, voice chilly. Your mouth snapped shut. „I …“ he began and you could see behind the cool demeanor he was giving you, could see how he was trying to be the best superior he could be. „I see ya care deeply about the ship, lass. But yer gonna take care of ya self as much.“ he nodded to the bandage. The air felt even more cool against your burning face. „Sir?“ „Off ta quarters, Lieutenant. Continue tomorrow.“ „But that’s stupid! I NEED to attend to this. NOW!“ For a moment it seemed as if he wouldn’t say anything, but the outburst followed just a second later:  „YER AFF YER HEID!“, he raised his voice, his jaws clenched in-between words, „IT’S AS IF YER TRYING TO ARGUE WI’ ME ON PURPOSE! THA’S THE MOST GLAIKIT THING I’VE HEARD TODAY!“

Silence fell between the two of you, both of you huffing and staring at each other. You ground your teeth. „I“, you began and it was now your turn to be baffled, staring at him open mouthed. „Out. Quarters.“ he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and closed his eyes. You collected your things hastily - „Good Night, Sir.“ and brushed past him.

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