#messin with the wrong powers my dude

[sylaesschasewind]

Heartbreak/Headache

The firelight glinted wetly off the edge of her saber.

Her eyes darted up the length of it, back up at Mattanis. The prick. She couldn’t swallow. Her chest was heaving, but nothing came of it but sharp bursts of pain. He’d missed her spine but got her right beneath the jaw. Blood drooled down her chest.

It wasn’t something she’d walk away from. The knowledge was firm and clear. 

“I give you to him. A worthy sacrifice. May he see your treachery!”

His voice bawled in perfectly clear common. 

A very large part of her wanted to spout something witty and cutting off, but again. That damn blade rendered that idea null.

She was dying.

The hot wetness sludged its way down her neck. Now why did you turn your back on him? You knew. This wasn’t a surprise. Do you want to die? A taste of rest...?

He chanted on, trying to invoke the master. Something she’d learned. You didn’t just invoke him; he knew what was going on and deigned to visit as he wished. Chanting became incoherent. It was hazy at best. Hard to focus her eyes, let alone unravel the blurry words of fervor falling over her. Sight faded to shadows. Shadows to shapes, shapes faded to...

Shit, this was really happening. A cold sweat clutched her.

---

She rolled over and--thump--vomited heavily. There wasn’t anything to bring up but acrid bile. A hand on her shoulder. A bin shoved roughly into her hands.

It took her a good while to recover enough to blink back tears from her stinging eyes.

Confusion made her head swim.

Destarion gave her a thin smile, settling above her on the bed. She was on the floor.

“So, you died.” 

“Is this real?” Her voice was hoarse. Like she’d been screaming for hours. Gravel sounded better. And boy, it hurt. Everything lit up at once.

“Unfortunately for you, I think.”

Sylaess let her head back down to the floorboards. It cost too much to look around, so she screwed her eyes shut. She smelled blood. Gore. Sea water. 

“You were brought back by an Anchorite, no less. Fascinating.” The insulting drawl. Soft over hard, ignorant tone. Not intentionally mean, just bored. Like this had happened several times. His deep purple skin was coarse and scaled, those fel-flame eyes burning behind the simple linen wrap he used. Dark violet-black hair rested atop his head in a messy bun framed by those long demonic horns. Destarion was no picture of comfort, surely, but he was better than anything she’d seen in... how long had it been? It didn’t matter, really.

Her stomach churned again, and she heaved weakly into the bucket he’d thrust into her hands. Let her forehead rest on the edge of it. Every single nerve was misfiring it seemed. It felt like withdrawal, and a serious case of whooped-ass. 

“--Where’s.. Hnn.” Oh, gods. Why couldn’t she just stay dead? What a horrifying journey. Disjointed memories. “Sword.”

Their relationship wasn’t really one of caring. It was built on a temporary mutual interest, and in so, she was honestly shocked that he was here at all. 

“I’m not really in the know of how to help you, for clarity’s sake.”

Hands hauled her up by the shoulders. Nothing particularly gentle. Enough that she was sitting upright against the bed, head lolling bonelessly. The worn leather scabbards were pressed into her hands. She clutched them like a lifeline. Heard the demon hunter give a small sigh. “There’s no way I made it through.” Again, the thin gravel-voice.

“Is that more of a wish you hadn’t? I’m more inclined to believe it, if so.” She heard him shift on the bed. Felt him watching her like a strange insect on the floor. Alien. It was a long moment of silence before he spoke again. She could hear the faint sounds of the city outside the walls. “You need to get help. Acherian help. I doubt there’s anything that can be done for you here.”

“...Gods no.” 

The flinch was reflexive and it sent her swords sliding down her lap to thump dully onto the floor. The room spun violently. She hissed a breath between her teeth, hating how even without tone in her voice, her words were almost a whine. Get your shit together, Syl. You’re back, but you’re losing what was done. You’re dying. More like returning to undeath. Between the hunger and the soul deep pain, she wasn’t sure what was real. But she was going to cling to this reality while she could. 

“Another, here.” the voice seemed to come from somewhere over head. “Hmph. The Light will shine in any shadow.” 

She didn’t recognize the language. Not at first. Another puzzle? N’zoth picked the best tormentors, after all. But it wasn’t demon-speech. No. It reminded her of... 

Argonas? No. Avehi? Yes? No! Draenic!

The thought bubbled along haphazardly. Sudden Light burned echoes into her eyes. She’d resigned herself to this fate. Being here in Ny'alotha. She wondered if this was another painful game that they were going to play.

Right until the floor came up to cuff her across the nose. Felt it shatter under her weight. A groan escaped as she pushed herself up onto her forearms. She’d been devout once, and the phrases came to mind, but it felt so wrong. So, so wrong. 

“Hey, elf.” The common was thickly accented. “Time to get moving. You’re one of those undead, right?” Male. Not the first speaker. 

“Just get her on her feet.” Impatient. “No one has time to wait in this foul place. It begins to collapse. We can offer a cleanse as we exit.”

Collapse? Sylaess blinked stupidly. Collapse? She stared straight into the pristine white face with golden eyes. The mane of white hair floating about her horns made her think of some strange halo, but the expression was cold and unforgiving. Syl didn’t blame her.

There was intense pressure on her jaw. She tossed her head but couldn’t get rid of it.

“There you are. Welcome back.”

Destarion’s faux nobility drawl. She blinked a few times, trying to make heads or tails of it. Reality wasn’t what it should be anymore. It was terrifying. He had her by the jaw, holding her head still. Firm, but not cruel. 

“You keep seizing. You. Need. To. Go. Back.”

He let her go, standing up from his crouch. Her chest was tight with fear at the thought of Acherus, but she couldn’t recall why. She watched him pour a short glass of... liquor. Collected herself enough to roll and press off of the floor. Rising with care. Everything was wavering like a candle flame. Found herself gripping her scabbards like they were a safety blanket.

The demon hunter simply frowned at her from across the room. He was here, but she didn’t know why. There was no love between them, and she certainly had lost her usefulness. It wasn’t caring, which was fine. That would have made it awkward. More awkward.

Damn it all, he was right. 

Cold sweat slicked her forehead again. Oh no.

Caught sight of his eye-roll behind his blindfold. Fucking spare me! Drummed up the power to call it. To rip open a death gate. The pressure felt like her veins were going to explode with the force of dragging up enough magic.

It sputtered before her and went out like a limp dick. Frustration reared up in her in a strangled, close-mouthed noise. Her legs jellied and she sat on the bed hard. 

“Shit.” She breathed the word out and let herself fall back on the mattress, swords clattering on her chest. No armor. Huh. Somehow that felt more naked than being without clothes. “I don’t have a plan for this.”

“Evidently.”

“I need... “ Say it. Say it you fucking tool. You could’ve let Argonas give you your stupid absolution, but no. “I need another Knight. To get to Acherus.” Or to finish the fucking slow ass process of undeath.

Not far away from where she was, leaning against the railing as he looked out onto the ocean was Nedemus. Inner conflict wore on him as he watched, one of his long nails grinding gently against the wood as he sighed. 

It honestly took more effort than she was willing to account for to get herself out onto the boardwalk. One step at a time. She stumbled unsteadily out of the rented room and onto the boardwalk. The sea breeze smacked into her face wetly, less of a smell, more of an assault. 

What a fucking mess.

Eyes blurry, she made it to the railing. Hooray. Holding herself upright and looking better than she felt at least. Destarion sighed and watched for a minute before slipping away in the crowd. Shook his head. 

The nearness of other people was abrasive. She gripped the railing like the world had turned upside down.

“--Ned?” It startled her that she knew his name.

He blinked upon hearing his name, the worgen turning his head towards the source. Before him stood… “... Sylaess? It’s been…” He blinked once more, giving her another lookover. She looked… alive? At least as alive as they were in their states. “Are you alright?”

Thoughts tumbled over each other in a fight for freedom from her mouth. She ended up saying nothing for a long moment, trying to compute what weird luck this was. Shook her head a bit.

“No.”

A breath in slowly. Held gently. “Are you?”

He narrowed his eyes a bit in worry, pushing himself off the railing as he stepped towards her. “I’m fine, don’t worry about that… What’s wrong?” He asked her, slow in his approach. 

“I...” How to explain? Made the worst decision in her miserable unlife, twice? Good try. “Need to get to a rune forge. Acherus.” Or somewhere. She steadied herself, holding her ground. It was hard enough to have her gaze hold his what with the world twisting, but it was getting easier. Small battles.

He watched her for a moment, before nodding softly, turning his head away and holding up his hand to the open area beside them, the dark energy forming a gate before him. His hand lowered, gaze turning once more towards her as he offered a hand. “What happened to you?”

“...I’m a magnificent idiot.” She smiled bleakly. With her gravelly, ruined voice it didn’t really stick. Shook her head and nearly tumbled for it. Oh dear. “Need to fix my blades.” She stared at his hand a moment before gripping it. Couldn’t help but feel the dread of returning to Acherus after all this bloody time, but it had to be something. Anything to anchor herself from this freefall. 

“Thank you.” Softly spoken. 

He moved in close, helping to catch her as he noticed her struggling, keeping an arm around her as he escorted her to the gate, moving slow and careful. “Aren’t we all.” He said softly, with a chuckle, before shaking his head. “It’s… No problem. I’ll help you get to the forges… Soon as I Remember where they are.”

He stepped through the gate, traveling the pair through and into the dark halls of Acherus. He glanced around, his ear flicking a bit as he tried to remember...

It didn’t go well. One minute she was grateful for his support, the next, she was a boneless sack of skin being held up through a portal. Good times, good times. 

Wading back into consciousness was very much like being a tiny little rowboat out on the great ocean. Half full of water. She flinched hard, stumbling and throwing an arm up over her face, but her leg went sliding out from under her. What a mess.

It didn’t take long for Ned to grunt a bit, scooping his arms underneath her legs and hoisting her in his arms, bridal style. He walked through the halls, ignoring the glances from the other death knights as he made his way towards the forges. “You still have your blades?”

“Yeah.” She spoke mutedly, trying to figure herself out again. Sure enough, they were in their scabbards, strapped to her back. There wasn’t room for dignity anymore. Not in her condition. Ny’alotha still clung to her mind like an infestation of worms. 

Blades. Right. One was salvageable. Enough to get her by. So she hoped. It had cracked at some point, near the hilt but not all the way through. Trusting the master rune forger could be of use. She shuddered, remembering the second one.

He gave a soft nod as they arrived to the forge, Ned bringing her in close as he helped her to stand - keeping his arm around her for support.

Okay, stand. Honestly. Stand. Drag up what’s left of yourself and get this done. Sylaess ended up leaning on him a fair bit. As if she hadn’t just been carried in like some waif. Ignoring that fact, she gripped his arm a moment. Took a small breath and steadied up. “I can’t thank you for this.”

[mythicalcanary-literature]

FanFiction - Crossing the Stars

Hetalia (c) Hidekaz Himaruya

FTL: Faster Than Light (c) Subset Games

[CHAPTER LIST]

Author’s Note: This FanFiction is a crossover between the sci-fi strategy game ‘FTL: Faster Than Light’ by Subset Games and the manga/anime called ‘Hetalia’ by Hidekaz Himaruya. The story will follow closely to the events of the rougue-like gameplay in FTL and the human characters will be replaced with the human versions of the national personifications in ‘Hetalia’. This is a fun personal project and it requires no knowledge of either fandom to enjoy this story. I’d encourage checking the original sources out though! Use of screenshots in this FanFiction are to supplement the storytelling to help plot the course of our heroes’ journey in the universe. Whatever the outcome of the gameplay I base this story on (as each playthrough is very unique) will be translated into the plot of this story. i.e. If the spaceship gets damaged, it gets damaged in the story. If a character dies in the game, they’re dead in this fiction. (Please note that I find this kind of storytelling entertaining to play/write and I plan to do more in the future if time allows!)

Chapter 1

The Federation was struggling with the advancing Rebel fleet. One lone ship carried some vital information that could turn the tides of the war and the Federation allied Star Ship APH was going to be their champion.

At the helm was Captain Alfred Jones, a spry young American whom fit the Golden Boy persona to a tee. Sure, he wore square-rimmed glasses but he was still awesome. Don’t let his cute blue-eyed, blond haired, ripped body mislead you! He had the courage to lead his crew to the very end. He was the youngest of his crew and had a Hero Complex but his heart helped him to make some decent moral choices.  His friends might disagree and say that his Hero Complex leads to some very immoral choices, but how could he be wrong? He’s great!

Stationed at weapons was his best friend from the academy called Arthur Kirkland. He was an officer from England and was keen to aid in an international project. Arthur was rather lean in build with messy blond hair that matched his sassy personality. His piercing emerald eyes held a wisdom beyond his years. He was tasked with weaponry because of his strategic skills and fearless judgement. Unfortunately his friends and colleagues often made fun of him for his bushy eyebrows, apparent inability to cook, and his obsession with the occult.

Last but not least was the Frenchman Francis Bonnefoy, a flamboyant friend of Arthur’s and on-and-off enemy of his. Much like Alfred, don’t let his looks fool you! Francis’ long, golden hair, sea blue eyes and wispy blond beard could charm many but he was a calculated thinker. He graduated with flying colours in engineering, which is why he was manning the FTL (Faster Than Light) Drive in the engine room.

The blond trio were in their twenties, young and wise together. If they could avoid their normal bickering maybe they would survive this after all!

“This is the awesome Captain Jones speakin’! Get your butts over to the Bridge, we need to figure out where we’re goin’,” the voice on the PA system called in a chirpy American accent.

“We’re already here, dipshit,” Arthur countered as he and Francis joined him on deck. “We’ve best be quick about this, the Rebel fleet is gaining speed.” He pulled up the Beacon Map on screen and surveyed their options. “Unfortunately we have no data on the properties of each beacon towards the exit into the next sector, but hopefully we can acquire that as we go along. The faster we get to the exit the better, our mission is too important to mess around.”

Alfred was sipping some coffee. “Psh, who’s messin’? I won’t lead you dudes astray! Hero’s promise!”

Francis sighed. “Let’s avoid battles if we can, ze stress gives me wrinkles.”

“We’re in a civilian sector! How bad could it be?”

Arthur glared at him. “You’ve best be joking. This area will be littered with Rebel scouts. We need to get a move on.”

Alfred dumped his coffee cup in the rubbish bin and winked. “Fine. Back to your stations! Off to our first stop! Warp us there, Francis!”

“Aye, sir,” Francis responded as they all returned to their posts.

The S.S. APH warped to the next beacon. If they were expecting a calming tour of space they were greatly mistaken. Alfred’s voice carried over the announcement system. “Hey, y’all! We have a hostile Rebel Scout attacking a small refuelling outpost here. That’s totes uncool so we’re gonna kick their asses! Kirkland, fire up the weapons! Try out our Burst Laser II on their weapons!”

“Aye, Captain! Locked on and charging.”

The small ship was quick with a laser drone circling the S.S. APH. An alert blared. “Shields took a hit!” Alfred informed them quickly. “Just an ion blast, it’ll be back online soon, stay at your posts!”

Francis’ voice joined him on the announcement channel. “The drone knocked out our door controls!”

“That’s alright, I destroyed their weapons room,” Arthur chipped in confidently.

“Good work, Artie!” Alfred cheered. “Lock on the drones now.”

“Roger that!”

The ship shook and Alfred’s voice called out in concern. “Yo, Francis? Are you okay? The shields are back online but it says the engines got hit.”

“I’m fine, mon ami! Minor damage to ze FTL Drive, I’m working on a fix. I’m not hurt.”

Arthur switched focus from the enemy drones to the helm. He cursed as he saw that the interior scan of the enemy vessel had repaired their weapons in the time his lasers charged. Luckily, his final few attacks took out the scout and they could safely proceed. He sighed with relief. “Danger has passed, let’s pull in the loot.”

Alfred congratulated them over the announcement system. “Well done, dudes! Artie, join me in the door room. We’re not moving on until that system is running again.”

“On my way!”

Francis kept an eye on the FTL charge as his friends repaired the door functions.

Arthur hummed as he replaced some fried wires and Alfred ran the diagnostics. Oddly enough, they didn’t chat the entire time. It was nice working together. “Alright, let’s get back to our posts. Who knows how many of these automated ships are lurking?”

“Just don’t lead us into a black hole or something.”

“Hahahaha! Noted.”

Back on the Bridge, Alfred pulled up his upgrades panel. They had enough scrap to give them a new edge. He grinned as he added an extra unit of power to their reactor and instructed the Frenchman to monitor the upgrade. He also treated himself to a more slick piloting upgrade. Having auto pilot help him to dodge attacks with a fifty percent advantage was too amazing to pass up! “I’m gonna jump to the next beacon. Hold on to your asses!”

The crew warped into the aftermath of a battle. The battlefield was littered with debris from Federation ships and Rebels alike. Their allies had been sadly outnumbered but it was clear they fought valiantly and Captain Jones respected that. He began performing a more detailed scan of the wreckage when his sensors picked up an enemy ship. He gasped and switched on the comms. “To battle stations! We have a Rebel Disrupter in our vicinity!”

The orange spaceship faced the S.S. APH head-on and momentarily knocked out the shields, just in time for the orbiting drone to shoot their door systems.

“Why do they always target our doors?” Francis complained over the communications system. “It’s hardly a vital system.”

“I think it was potluck,” Arthur answered as his return fire knocked out the enemy weapons. “Got the weapons room! I’m going to knock out that drone and then alternate. I wouldn’t put it past them to begin repairs.”

“As you are, Kirkland!” Alfred chimed in as he kept an eye on the enemy movements from the helm. They made quick work of this battle and reaped the rewards. “Good job. You know the drill, Artie. Gotta get those door systems online again. Meet me there.”

“Aye, sir!”

The next beacon jump was nothing special. Beautiful, but nothing interesting. Francis stared out of his nearby airlock windows to view the dancing binary star before they warped to the next point.

“I’m gonna do a triangular-shaped loop here, dudes. I detect a merchant nearby and I wanna see what they have,” Captain Jones announced to his crew.

“Don’t let us get caught by the Rebels, Alfred!” Arthur’s voice warned him.

“They’re not close enough yet. We’ll be fine. We can’t risk running low on supplies and if we can get this hull fixed that would be great.”

“Good point. Carry on.”

The next jump led them to a destroyed space station. Alfred had reservations about this as life signs could be detected onboard. He bit his lip and weighed up the options of investigating. On the one hand, if he could recruit a new member that would be useful! Although he was well aware that doing these kind of investigations could risk damage to his current crew’s lives. After a moment of hesitation he decided not to risk his friends. They collected miscellaneous debris to repurpose for their own mission and jumped them to the next beacon.

The crew assembled on the Bridge to witness the hails of a Rock Scout. The Rockmen were a powerful race but these aliens seemed to be relatively friendly. “Hey, this is Captain Alfred F. Jones of the Federation Star Ship APH. How can we be of service today, my dudes?”

Arthur stared at his friend unhappily. “You could use proper English, idiot. Did you learn nothing from etiquette lessons when dealing with foreign entities?”

“There was nothin’ wrong with my lingo, Artie! Don’t make me pull rank.”

“Insufferable git.”

The Rockman Captain simply stared at these weird humans before gaining their attention. “We could really use some help.”

Alfred saluted. “How can we help?”

“Our FTL navigation system is shot. Can you help us to a nearby station for them to patch us up?”

“Sure thing, rock friend! I’m receiving your fuel down payment right now and I’ll key in the co-ordinates you sent.”

“Thank you. We will be one step behind you, following your jump signatures.”

Francis beamed at his Captain as their communications shut off with their neutral acquaintance. “That was very kind of you, Alfred!”

The American beamed. “If we can help anyone in distress on the way we damn well will! We’re still gonna do our planned route unless we’re forced to change direction, but those Rebel scumbags ain’t gonna take all of us down.”

Francis patted him on the back and returned to his post. Arthur shook his head. “I wish you’d let me deal with the foreign comms once in a while, Alfred, but you did well. I’m heading back to weapons. Try to get our hull fixed at the shop.”

The next jump led them to an outpost that certainly had merchants selling some wares! Arthur and Francis volunteered to be the away party as Alfred kept an eye on the advancing enemy fleet from the Bridge. Their tailing Rockmen friends also spent a bit of time gathering resources for the journey ahead.

Aware of the encroaching danger and their limited supply of scrap to trade for goods, the European representatives agreed that they should spend all of it on an Advanced FTL Navigation Augmentation that would allow them to leap to any previously visited beacon in one hop no matter the distance and the rest of the scrap was allocated to hull repairs. They promptly beamed back on deck and installed their new augment and checked with the Rockmen to make sure that they were ready to follow.

The S.S. APH jumped back the way they came and immediately leapt to the subsequent beacon. It was a tough decision because they had to completely ignore a distress call. The Rebel fleet was advancing far too quickly, they had to put as much distance between them as possible. Alfred felt terrible but his crew and the Rockmen following them depended on forward thinking. There was no helping those in distress right now.

“Rebel transport ship detected!” Captain Jones announced on the communications system. “It doesn’t seem to wanna fight but we can’t take risks. Plus we need the scrap, we’re kinda poor right now.”

“Engaging weapons, Captain!” Arthur replied, powering up the Burst Laser II to lock onto their weapons room. He was going to target the drones next as those little bastards were a pain to deal with.

“CANCEL THAT INTERACTION, KIRKLAND! ATTACK THEIR ENGINES, THEY’RE GONNA JUMP AND WARN THE FLEET!”

“Fuck, really?! Alright, locking both the lasers and missiles onto their FTL Drive!”

It was a tense moment as their weapons warmed up and as they celebrated decimating the enemy FTL Drive, a missile hit their own engines.

“ENGINES, DAMAGE REPORT!” Captain Jones cried.

“Ze bastards damaged ze FTL Drive. I’m working on a fix but my head…”

“Focus, Bonnefoy. You can heal after we destroy these idiots!” Arthur chipped in urgently. He switched the lasers to focus on the Rebel weapons room whilst keeping their Artemis missile locked on the enemy engines.

An explosion rocked the Bridge and Alfred coughed through the smoke. “Dammit, they’re breaking my controls. Kirkland, finish this now.” He gritted his teeth as he repaired the system damage. His wrist was pretty sore but nothing too dire.

“Aye, Captain!”

Fortunately, the battle was over with soon after and repairs could be finished to both the engines and the piloting systems. Jones and Bonnefoy met up in the medbay to heal their injuries before moving on. It was becoming clear how dangerous this mission was.

Back on the Bridge, Alfred instructed his crew that to get to the quest marker they needed to enter a nebula. Nebula zones were always risky as they knocked out sensors but they could also be beneficial in slowing down the enemy fleet. “We’re heading to the nebula. Be prepared for anything! Warp ahead, Bonnefoy!”

This felt like a mistake. Nebulas can be rather peaceful but today was not their day! A plasma storm was active so not only were their sensors dead but their reactor was crippled to half-capacity. The crew was in a mild panic trying to figure out what systems were down as a Rebel automated scout swooped in to cause them hell.

“GUYS, WE HAVE A PROBLEM. SEVERAL PROBLEMS,” Alfred yelled through the communications system.

“No shit!” Arthur shot back as he examined the diagnostics from his post. “Our oxygen isn’t powered, we’ll suffocate!”

“Heat up the weapons, Artie, we have company! I’ll divert power from the medbay to the oxygen room!”

“SHIELDS ARE DOWN AND THEY HAVE A DRONE!” Francis cried from the engine room. “We’re sitting ducks!”

“Divert ALL power from engines to the shields NOW!”

“Aye!”

“I’m locked on their weapons, Captain!” Arthur informed them. “The shield is holding off the drone, thank God.”

“Fire on that and then the drone. Destroy it as quickly as possible.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

Thankfully the battle was over swiftly. Shaken and worried, Alfred gave the order to drop the shields and restore power to the FTL Drive. They would drop off their Rockmen friends at the next beacon and make their way to the exit.

“Approaching the quest marker,” Captain Jones announced keeping the ship steady, ready for a break. “I’ll inform our little convoy back there.”

“Can one ship in addition to ours really be considered a convoy?” Francis responded contemplatively.

He didn’t receive an answer as the Rockmen’s ship zoomed away without warning and Alfred flipped the Red Alert siren. “AGH! IT’S A TRAP! How could they? We trusted them!” He turned on the power to all systems after they were clear of the plasma storm and glared at the Rebel Disrupter ship. How dare they! HOW. DARE. THEY.

Ignoring the possible melodrama his best friend was stewing in, Arthur had already locked their weapons on the Rebel weapons and drones with their Burst Laser II and the Artemis missile. DIRECT HIT! That’s getting business taken care of. He disabled the Artemis and focused the laser onto enemy shields. He needed no consultation on this strategy, they would not be made fools of! With the shields down and the enemies focused on repairing the damage he dealt to the drones, he fired once again at the weapons room. The Rebel scum would not get a say in this!

VICTORY! The crew celebrated briefly as they collected the remains of their enemy vessel.

“Let’s get the hell outta here,” Alfred urged, turning them towards the next beacon. “I don’t want to try my luck with another one of these guys.”

“We can make it to ze Exit Beacon in two jumps, Captain!” Francis informed him over the comms. “With ze Rebels gaining ground we shouldn’t take anymore detours.”

“Agreed, buddy! Full speed ahead!”

The Rebels were determined to control this star system! The subsequent beacon greeted them with another Rebel Rigger patrol. It stood between them and the exit. This could not be tolerated.

“I’m way ahead of you, Captain!” Arthur called over the communications. “I’ve locked on their weapons and drone rooms. I’ll target their FTL Drive afterwards, we can’t let them get away to inform the Rebel fleet of our location.”

“Show no mercy, Kirkland!”

“Aye, sir!”

Direct hits!

“The enemy is powering up it’s FTL Drive!” Alfred informed them urgently. “This could be bad!”

The landed hits on the enemy vessel weren’t enough to destroy the hull and the Rebels were an inch from jumping out of reach. Fortune dealt them an unexpected hand, though.

Alfred opened up the screen to receive a hail from the Rebel Rigger Captain. “Captain Jones speaking. Stop right there!”

The enemy Captain scowled but offered a metaphorical white flag. “The day is yours! Show us your honour by allowing us to leave with our lives.”

This was a very fragile situation. The enemy hull was weak but their FTL Drive was primed to jump any second. There would be no time to stop them unless they agreed to a truce. Alfred growled in frustration but knew there was no choice. “Kirkland, cease fire! We’re entering a truce.”

“What? Um, okay?” came Arthur’s puzzled response. There was probably a good reason to cease fire so he complied. He would demand answers later.

Captain Jones accepted the supplies from the Rebel Rigger and the enemy did not warp away. Phew, that was a close one. The advancing enemy fleet would not gain speed on them.

Tense, Alfred called a meeting on the Bridge. He turned to his crewmates gravely. “We’re getting real lucky with these battles, our damage has been minimal. With Rebels so close to our Exit Beacon we need to be ready for a possible interception between us and the warp point. Don’t let your guard down and we’ll decide which sector to head to next once the coast is clear.”

Arthur nodded and returned to the weapons room without any answers, but he didn’t need them. It was clear they were in trouble and Alfred made a solid judgement call. He would be ready to defend.

Francis remained by Alfred’s side as they made the final jump to the Exit Beacon.

There was an asteroid field not far from their destination. They decided to risk navigating it for some materials that would help them in the next sector. Luck truly was not on their side as asteroids violently knocked down their shields and damaged their hull!

“Fire in ze portside airlocks, Captain!” Francis cried.

“I’ll open the airlocks to extinguish it. Everyone meet me in shields! We’ll repair and move on!”

Once that crisis was averted, the crew met up to decide where to go next.

Would they jump to the Engi Controlled area, or the Zoltan Controlled area? Both were civilian sectors but carried their own unique risks.

TO BE CONTINUED IN THE NEXT SECTOR...

Chapter 1 - END

[CHAPTER LIST]

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[Cover Art] This image was drawn in HB pencil and painted in watercolour paints on the 8th August 2021. It was digitally enhanced in GIMP Image Editor on the 9th August 2021. Paper type = 130 gsm 

This chapter was written on the 8th August 2021.

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Please do not repost, modify, resell or claim this work as your own.

(Reblogging is fine, though!)

[Mythical Canary Info]

[medicinelouie]

V SEXUAL ANON COMIN THRU // look i just gotta get this off my chest so i hopped on here and clicked on the first blog i saw :) so lmao last night i hooked up w this dude in his dorm. sounds normal? WRONG. sis.... he was a whole virgin. he didnt tell me until we were halfway to his dorm and im like lol ?? couldnt have told me that on grindr bc i swore i’d never f🤭ck a virgin but i was like well if this is how he wants to have his first time more power to him. i mean i cant judge. i lost mine +

in a one night stand too. but anyway we get up to his dorm after he sneaks me in after hours oh my god. (btw im trans dude) AND SO WE STARTED KINDA MESSIN AROUND IDK. and i just couldnt get .... w*t so he drives to walmart, to come back and forget his card.... so he leaves again. i gotta piss in his sink bc im in a fucjin dorm and i cant be caught or hell will break loose. anyway i hop up on the bed after that and start messing around tryna get smthn poppin when he comes in + 

anyway he busts back in. his pants are down and im like omg wig sis. so we start going at it and poor baby wont even TOUCH me until im like lol sis go off you can touch me. you’re losing your virginity rn. so he goes for my chest and im like that’s fair. anyway he didnt even make it ten minutes and couldnt talk for five minutes after and i had to drive myself home in his car......... anyway thanks for letting me get that off my chest (he wont stop hitting me up tho smh)

IM SCREAMING AJFDLKFJSFJDFDJKSD this made my night what kinda wild story ... highlights

you PISSED in his sink, what kinda dorm has a sink in it ??? but not a toilet???

him BUstin in w his cock already out, mewd

you drove home in hIS car ... how did he get his car back?? im so ... why didn’t he drive you?

the breathlessness after busting a nut , again mewd 

nutting in 10 minutes gfgsdffdf

the drive to get (lube i assume??) and the forgetting his card 

thank you for this 

[britishdelirium]

This rap is lyrically one of the best things ever written. Sit back, listen and read these lyrics.

[Verse 1: Akala] Yes, I grew up on the dole in a single parent family Been through a little bit of tragedy Yes I was around drugs and violence before the day that I started secondary And that’s part of it not half of it, get the picture, the rest ain’t necessary Growing up, got a little caught up, but that ain’t even half of my life Also given the knowledge of self That is all we actually need to survive If you saw me aged 9, reading Malcolm just fine Teachers still treated me stupid Students that couldn’t speak English, they put me in groups with And the irony is some of the first man to give me schooling You would call gangsters but I already explained, we know what the truth is They used to say ‘Don’t be like me’ Yeah I got a name and dough on the street Night time comes, I can’t sleep And that’s the part that rappers don’t speak We don’t hit the road cos we are thugs Don’t come out the womb, wanting to sell drugs If we got the right guidance and love Would we fight people just like us? How could I knock the hustle to get by? How do you think I ate as a child? Judge no one, done many things wrong I just don’t boast about it songs But listen to my older bars I was just as confused as you probably are But you grow and you learn, travel and fuck up One too many man you know get cut up One too many man that could’ve been doctors End up spending their whole life boxed up You learn, if you study Its all set out just to make them money No cover, it’s all about getting poor people to fight with one another So its logical that us killing our brothers, dissing our mothers Is right in line with the dominant philosophy of our time But time is a cycle, not a line Comes back around you regain your mind You be ready for the energy I channel in my rhymes Remedy the pedigree, the jeopardy of mine When the world’s this f***ed up, lethargy’s a crime We can all fight with our brothers over crumbs Far harder to fight the one who makes guns We can all talk sh** and get two dollars Far harder to be the one who seeks knowledge If we understood economics We’d know money’s nothin’ Think nothing of it Money is a means to get wealth, not the wealth itself Don’t get confused, I’m far from broke All that you see me do I own But I won’t hang what I make around my neck I know from where that the diamonds came But I do quite literally own a library That definitely costs more than your chain And businesses, and properties Far from starvin’, I eat quite properly And I don’t care, just said it for the kids Who need to know that you’re not broke to listen Don’t know an asset from a liability They’ve never been shown or told the difference So they don’t change situations Richest man in Britain is Asian That’s significant, not coincidence Asian people build businesses Not by flossin/going out shoppin’ Giving out their culture for everyone’s profit Who run’s Bollywood? Indian people Who owns our shit? So we shake our arse and dance As if racism just upped and vanished But has it? No its right on course You’re beaten so bad, you’re trained to ignore Let me not just make sweeping statements Gimme a second, I’ll explain it For small amounts of drug possession there’s more black people in jail in America than there is for rape and armed robbery and murder all put together You can say they’re just locking up thugs Imagine if they locked up every middle class kid that had ever held drugs Oh that’s right, that’d be your kids! Bigger than that what is going on with this Prison in America’s a private business They get paid 50k per year per inmate by the State, just wait… Also legally are allowed to use their prison inmates as slaves Cheap slave labour, big corporations They come out of jail, can’t get a job So when we celebrate going to jail We are LITERALLY CELEBRATING ENSLAVEMENT Add to that, that the hood that you’re livin’ Engineered social condition that breeds crime by design Where do you think you get your nine? You can say that they’re just black But I like to deal with facts In the 1920s you would’ve found in America Black towns Prospering centres of economics and education to make you proud But some people couldn’t bear that the former slaves would not just lie down So the KKK and other hate groups burnt those towns to the ground Killin hundreds If it ain’t understood You think you were always livin’ in the hood? Shit it’s only been sixty years Since they hung blacks and burned em’ And that was so cool They were your pastors’ picnic baskets Even gave kids the day off school To go see a lynching, have a picnic It’s fun to watch the little monkeys die Then people act a little dysfunctional You wanna pretend that you don’t know why If your colour means you can be killed And you’re powerless to get justice about it Is it difficult to figure out how you would then end up feelin’ about it? And that ain’t excuses Just dealing with the roots of abuses that make a reality Where a generation of young men speak of ourselves as dirt casually That’s America This Britain Some things are similar Some different In this country the first enslaved were the working class What’s changed? Worst jobs, worst conditions Worst taxed, look where you’re livin’ You go to the pub, Friday night You will fight with a guy, don’t know what for But won’t fight with a guy, suit and a tie Who sends your kids to die in a war They don’t send the kids of the rich or politicians It’s your kids, the poor British That they send to go die in a foreign land For these wars you don’t understand Yeah they say that you’re British And that lovely patriotism they feed ya But in reality you have more in common with immigrants Than with your leaders I know, both side of my family Black and white are fed ghetto mentality Reality in this system Poor people are dirt regardless of shade But with that said Let’s not pretend that everything is the same When our grandparents came here to Britain If you had a criminal record you couldn’t get in Yet that ain’t protect them from all the stupid, stupid abuses they would be livin’ Kicked in the teeth, stabbed in the street Many times fired bombed our houses Put faeces through our letter box And of course the cops did so much about it(!) Daily, up to the 80s People spittin’ into my pram cos’ I was a coon baby But of course that has had no effect on why today we are crazy And none of this was for any good reason They were just dark and breathing To ease the guilt now for all of this treatment Constant stereotypes are needed So if I celebrate how big that my dick is, bricks that I’m flippin’ Clips that I’m stickin’, chicks that I’m hittin’, I’m playing my position But if I teach a kid to be a mathematician, messin’ with the schism How they gonna fill a prison when materialism is nothing but a religion? What do you think we got now in Britain? Just like America, private prisons Prisons for profit! That mean when your kids go jail people make money off it So keep environments that breed crime Build more jails at the same time Market badness to the kids in the rhymes As long as rich kids ain’t dying its fine! Get em’ to the point where some are so lost They actually believe that if they don’t celebrate killin’ themselves off That it’s because they’re soft Was Malcolm soft? Was Marley soft? Tell me was Marcus Garvey soft? Well? Was Mohammed Ali soft? Nah, Nah I think not! But they want us to think that the road is cool Being on road is all we can do We don’t control the wholesale productions Who benefits from us movin’ the food? Or thinking there’s no way out of road life But Malcolm X used to hustle out on the roadside When Marcus Garvey organised more than 6million people With no Facebook or Twitter Why is this something you cannot equal? Shiiiiit! One of my homeboys did a ten straight in the box in yard Now what’s he doing? Passin’ his doctorate Don’t tell me that it’s too hard! Who trained you to believe that you’re inferior? Sungbo Eredo in Nigeria are the remains of an ancient moat Dug 1000 years ago 20 metres wide, 70 down Round the remains of an ancient town That’s 400 square miles around 400 square miles around Please, please don’t believe me It was a documentary on BBC! But we ain’t studyin’ history Too busy watching MTV And MTV said wear platinum Now everybody wanna go and wear platinum And MTV said pop magnums Now everybody wanna go and pop magnums If MTV said drink prune juice You would start hearing that in tunes soon ‘Hey! Today I wore my Cartier Is it now more important what I got to say?’ Oh and I drive a Mercedes by the way So everybody listen to what I got to say Huh, does that make you all happy? Ahh but shit my head’s still nappy Think for myself, still some mad at me But on the mic ain’t not one bad as me All of this here’s good for the rhymes Put us in the same place at the same time And it’s clear to everybody that I’m out of my mind Some of these guys are runnin’ out of their rhymes Clear to everybody that has got ears I’m the guy that they just might fear They wanna get near but they can’t have a peer Ah dear I’m hard liquor you’re just like beer Front on the kid for another five years Come to my shows and some cry tears It mean that much to em’, it’s a movement! I don’t speak for myself but a unit Black, white, man, woman, anyone that respects truth we put in Dudes are like no dinner with just puddin’ Yeah you’re sweet but no substance puddin’ You could never ever be with a level on Our songs get out played out there in Lebanon We speak for the people properly Not for the old fat guys in offices And the girls love him, it ain’t fair He can’t even be bothered to comb his hair Anyway that’s enough kissin’ my own arse Back to the more important task of being so shower I got half the hood screaming “KNOWLEDGE IS POWER” And I ain’t saying that will change rap But I do know this for a fact Right now there’s a yout’ on your block With his hand on his cock and his face screwed up Swear he don’t care, don’t give a fuck That he won’t let nobody call his bluff But the words go in Open up your chakra Because once that’s happened there’s no going back Once you start to see what is really happening Who the enemy you should be attackin’ is So READ, READ, READ! Stuck on the block, READ, READ! Sittin’ in the box, READ, READ! Don’t let them say what you can achieve Cos when people are enslaved One of the first things they do is stop them reading Cos’ it is well understood that intelligent people will take their freedom Cos’ if we knew our power we would understand that we can’t be held down If we knew our power, we would not elevate not one of these clowns If we knew our power, we wouldn’t get arrogant when we get two pennies If we knew our power, we would see what everybody sees, that we’re rich already! But never mind MCs go run for your mummy I’m hungry, I run for my tummy That’s enough, back to worshipping money I’m off, back to the study!