#that been knocked out of its orbit and is flying through space on it’s own

[andromedism]

June 2017

“What’re you doing, bro?” 

“I’m twirling!” Charlie yells over the booming bass, a blur of rainbow beads rattling around his neck. They shimmer in the strobe lights, casting specks of refracting light across his army jacket and his upturned face. 

The dance floor parts slightly, a red sea of narrow-faced gays scowling at him as he overtakes their space with his revolution. It’s making Mac dizzy, but he needs to stay sharp. 

“He’s twirling!” Dee confirms. She’s swaying at Mac’s side, a large rainbow flag tied around her neck. One of her gaudy fake lashes is sticking to her eyelid. 

They’re both tipsier than Mac; the stale beer tolerance they’ve built up at Paddy’s is an unworthy match for the dangerously fruity drinks The Rainbow hands out like candy during Pride. Mac’s a pro by now and can knock back watermelon daiquiris with the best of them, but tonight isn’t the night for dicking around. 

He grips Charlie’s shoulder, stopping him. “Take it easy. You don’t wanna pull trig on the dance floor, dude. People’ll get pissed.” 

It’s not that this dance floor hasn’t seen its fair share of vomit—it has. Much of it, Mac’s. It’s just that the hundreds of glittery bodies swaying to the house music are giving him vertigo, and he didn’t really want to come, and Charlie and Dee cannot be left alone together without committing at least one felony. If one of them angers the wrong gay, he’ll have to bust out his jiu-jitsu training, and this isn’t the venue for that. 

Someone needs to reign them in, be the straight man in the gay bar, and it has to be him—there’s no one else, anymore. 

“You’re being such a buzz kill, man! This is your night!” Charlie cries, nodding his head to the beat of the music. He hasn’t stopped moving since Elton John’s tenor broke through the speaker on the first parade float earlier that afternoon. Mac’s always loved how Charlie absorbs the musicality in everything; tapping his feet to the rhythm of the leaky tap in the bar or pulling a piano riff from thin air after sniffing paint. It’s second nature for him. And then there’s Dee.

“Yeah! This is your night!” she parrots. She takes a swig from the penis-shaped cup she’s spilled the contents of on everyone in her orbit since they arrived. Mac has no idea where she got it from. The Rainbow doesn’t supply these. “Hey, this is blue flavored. What fruit is blue? Mac, d’you know?”

Charlie whirls on her, tipping back onto his heels as his legs catch up with his upper body. “Now hold on a minute, Dee. Why are you asking him, huh? Feels homophobic for you to assume he’s the fruit expert, here.”

“I’m not—” she huffs loudly and rolls her eyes in that eerie way that reminds Mac she’s someone’s twin, “—I’m not saying he’s the fruit expert ‘cause he’s gay, dipshit! I just—he’s been working out a lot and eating boring health food. Thought he’d know his fruits.” 

Charlie turns to look at Mac, eyes skidding over his biceps. He doesn’t pay attention to things like this. If Mac showed up at the bar tomorrow with D-cups and ass implants, he wouldn’t bat an eye and doesn’t now. “He hasn’t been working out.” 

“Yeah, he has! My god, do you pay attention to anything?” 

They’ve been doing this a lot: talking about Mac like he isn’t standing right in front of them. His own friends treat him like a dog, hinting they’ll take him for a walk without saying it because they think if he hears the word, he’ll scamper around excitedly until they leash him. Or put him down.

Charlie plants his hands on his hips. “Well who’s to say between the two of us, I’m not the one with the fruit expertise?” 

“Oh, what do you know about fruits, Charlie?” Dee challenges, walking up on him. 

Charlie bounces on his toes as he shouts in Dee’s face. “I know a lot about fruits! I know a lot about fruits! My areas of expertise are bird law, woodworking, and then fruit—”

“Woodworking, what the hell are you talking about!?” Dee shouts back. She’s gesturing so violently that blue liquid is flying everywhere. Mac is strategically dodging drops of it as he steps forward to break them up. 

It’s just then that the song changes and Charlie shoves his hand over Dee’s mouth to silence her. “Shut up! Shut up! Dee, shut up.” 

She pushes him away, spitting wildly. “What the hell is on your hands!? Glue!?”

“I said shut up!” Charlie shrieks. He takes a deep breath and extends his arms, palms outstretched like a prophet. “I have to twirl about this.” Before Madonna can get a word of Express Yourself in edge-wise, he’s spinning again, off into the crowd.

Mac steps forward to follow him, but a sharp, quippy ‘Hey, boner!’ stops him in his tracks. When he turns to look at Dee, she’s staring at him. It’s so unnatural that he can only blink back at her. These past few years, they haven’t paid much attention to each other—only to fight like cats; their dynamic always defined by their gravitational proximity to another man. 

“Are you—are you talking to me?”

“Yeah, duh. What’s up your ass?” She accents her question with a long swig from her dick cup. There’s a familial likeness there that keeps Mac from ever looking her directly in the eye. 

Mac crosses his arms, standing a little straighter. “Nothing. Just trying to keep you two safe.”

She arches an eyebrow at him, dumbfounded. “From who?” 

And yeah, that’s a good question. The threat level in the room is pretty low. Mac knows because he assessed it when they first walked in. 

He shrugs. “I dunno. Anyone could be lurking here. Spies, henchman, a ninja maybe—”

“A ninja?” she interrupts, and there’s skepticism in her tone that makes him nervous. Why can’t she mind her own business? 

“They could be anywhere, Dee. You don’t understand because you’re thinking like a civilian.” He taps his forehead for good measure. 

“You’re a civilian, jerk ass.” She pulls the little umbrella out of her cup and twirls it in between her fingers. “You’re thinkin’ ‘bout your buddy, huh? Yikes!” 

He’s been trying really hard not to think about anything at all; the door in his apartment that’s always closed; the room behind it that’s always empty; the one-way ticket to North Dakota that made it all so.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yeah y’are.” She shoves the dick cup in his face until he takes a swig. It feels like water going up his nose. 

“Holy shit. What is this, Windex?” He eyes the sloshing blue substance, suspiciously. Maybe it will poison her and she’ll stop asking him so many pointed questions. 

“No, it’s a blue lagoon. I got it from Estevan.” Dee flicks her hand behind her lazily, and Mac follows the direction of her flippant gesture into a crowd of strangers. 

“Who’s Estevan?”

“He’s over th—” She turns to point at an empty space on the far wall. “Oh. I could’ve sworn he was…” She cocks her head back at Mac. “Hey, what d’you think was in those edibles?”

Mac swallows dryly. “I don’t think those were edibles, Dee.” 

There was something kind of wonky about the little pink gummies Frank dropped into each of their palms, hours earlier. ‘You kids stay woke and don’t mix these with poppers or you’ll end up ass up in an airfield,’ he’d said before descending the stairs to a sketchy basement bar with Artemis. He hadn’t meant it in the liberal sense. There’s nothing woke about Frank. If Mac had a dime for every homophobic thing the guy said today, he’d be able to buy everyone in the bar a round. What’s the word for that? Reparations, maybe? 

He looks to his side to ask the person who’s always standing there, the person who always knows the answer. There’s no one.

Dee pokes Mac in the pec with the toothpick end of the umbrella. “Look, I don’t care if you go home and sob into his pillow every night—“

“Estevan’s? I still don’t know who that is.”

Dee furrows her brow. “Est—what? No! Not Estevan’s! You know who! And you can mope about him all you want on your own time! But tonight’s supposed to be fun and you’re shitting on everything!” 

“I am not shitting on everything!” Mac shoots back. He holds up the dick cup, pointedly. “You’re the one collecting souvenirs like a tourist! You should really give that kid her flag back!”

“Finders keepers!” Dee clutches at the ends of the flag and wraps them around her body, possessively, cocooning herself like a big ugly moth. 

“You didn’t find it! You stole it!” She’d ripped it out of a college girl’s hands in line outside and told her to suck a fat chode before parading past the bouncer. If Mac’s retained anything from the Star Wars prequels he’s been marathoning in his now-infinite free time, it’s that not all heroes wear capes, and not all people who wear capes are heroes.

“Oh don’t make this about me!” Dee snaps. “We’re doin’ your thing tonight and you’re not even enjoying it, like an ungrateful asshole!” She gestures broadly to the dance floor, the ends of her pride cape flaring out around her in a blur of color. “Look around you! Everyone’s having a great time but you! If I were you, I’d be dancing my ass off! Not thinkin’ ‘bout my loser roommate.” 

Mac clenches his fists. “He’s not a loser, Dee! He’s a dad!” 

“What’s the difference!?” she yells, stomping her feet like a toddler. 

There’s a huge difference, obviously–and she’s too drunk and dumb to see it. Dads can’t be losers. Take Mac’s for example. He’s a total badass. What, with all of his tattoos, and his secrets, and his criminal record? Bad. Ass. 

Mac shoves the dick cup back into her hands. “Can we stop? Can we stop!? This is stupid! You’re drunk, we’re all high, Frank totally poisoned us which is probably a hate crime, at least in my case! This night has been shitty and I wanna go home! I’d rather be finishing Revenge of the Sith right now and that’s saying a lot. I’m gonna go find Charlie.”

“Whatever! Go do that! But remember, the night wasn’t shitty until you started shitting on it!” As Dee flings her hand out, liquid sloshes from the dick cup and hits Mac’s chest in a cold splatter. 

“Hey!” he cries, grasping at the wet fabric of his tank top. “Oh god damnit, Dee!”

She cups a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I fucked it.”

“Yeah, you fucked it! Get me something to clean this up! Shit!” 

“Fine!” She starts to tromp off, but then stops. Turning on her heels, she walks up into Mac’s space and jabs a sharp finger into his chest. “Stop. Shitting.” 

They scoff at each other before she’s off again, stomping into the crowd. Mac flexes his fingers, fighting off the urge to trip her as her pride cape blurs with the other rainbow apparel. It’s just him, now. Him and a hundred other gay people. That thought alone is enough to unnerve him from his sticky spot on the floor. 

Mac drifts aimlessly through the flock of sweaty bodies, eyes fixed on the blue stain blooming over his heart. Something’s kicking in: the edible, or Dee’s molotov cocktail, or the big horrible feeling he has in crowded rooms now that there’s no one to turn to and say ‘ It’s crowded in here, huh? ’.

The DJ has switched things up, opting for a slow song. People are pairing up to dance a boozy waltz. Bodies slotting together, hands grasping for broad shoulders, and Mac, all alone, covered in glitter and suspiciously blue liquor. 

A couple in matching leathers bumps into him in the scramble, muttering apologies. A server lifts a tray of tequila shots high above their heads as she skirts past him. She’s wearing a tee shirt that says 'Love who you love' in big bold lettering. How? That’s all he’s been asking himself his entire life. How do you love someone the way they need it? How do you cope when they leave? How do you come out without immediately locking yourself in a brand-new box? 

There’s a lull in the crowd finally, a clearing in the musky haze, where he can take a long deep breath. He blots at the stain with clammy fingers to no avail, barely noticing the hands ducking into his line of sight to press a napkin to his shirt. 

“She’s so fucking annoying.” 

Everyone sounds a little like this these days, so he doesn’t react anymore. In coffee shops, and grocery stores, and clubs like this one, Mac hears the familiar pert inflection that used to fill the space between him and the other end of the couch. And every time he turns to look, the face isn’t right. 

“So annoying,” Mac agrees. “You know her?” 

“You might say I know her better than anyone,” the stranger says with a theatrical inflection. He was always so dramatic. 

Mac is still staring at the long, slim fingers fussing with the stain, the manicured nails grazing his bare chest as they hold fast to the fabric, lighting his skin up with goosebumps. He shifts on his feet. “Wow, you that close with her? Dee Reynolds? Bro, that’s—”

“Look at me, asshole.” 

He won’t. 

Because this is the same nightmare he’s been having for months. And it ends badly. It always has. It will never be different. 

“Mac,” the stranger says, softly, in that tone he used to take in their kitchen at midnight, when they’d have tea together after a long day at the bar, when they’d share stories they’ve heard each other tell a million times like secrets. “Look at me.”

To Mac’s great pleasure and horror, he is just as easy to look at as he was the last time they saw each other. The vivid club lighting is cutting through the moving shadows, catching the arc of his cheek, the soft curl of his hair, his prim mouth set in an intent line. 

As dancers and servers pass them by like ships in the night, Mac can feel it: the gossamer thin thread keeping him tethered to reality snapping as those slim hands drop the napkin and press hot to his neck, pulling him forward.

“What are you—” Mac starts, but it’s no use, because Dennis Reynolds, South Philadelphia’s most infamous ghost, is kissing him soft and open-mouthed in the middle of a gay bar. 

And everything is blue like the sky on an autumn day when they were children, and Charlie would push him on the rusty swing set in the park. That fluttering deep in his stomach, as he’d dropped back down to earth, returning to him now like an old friend. Returning to him now, like Dennis. 

And there’s something unnervingly gentle about the pale hand, reaching up to brush a stray hair off Mac’s forehead as they press closer to each other.

And Mac is gripping at the collar of a familiar button-up for dear life, wanting to anchor them both in this moment so that he won’t wake up in a cold sweat, any minute now, legs sticking to his sheets. 

And the planets are all marbles, rolling out of orbit into the black universe, where everything tastes like the lip gloss Dennis left on the counter when he walked out of Mac’s life.

You never text me back, he wants to say. You never call. But he can’t speak, he can only sigh into the mouth of this beautiful, horrible stranger, who is kissing him like it’s the last time they’ll ever see each other. Maybe it is. Fear bubbles up in Mac’s throat at the idea that this is the closest he’ll ever be to Dennis again: hallucinating his likeness in crowded rooms he’ll never be in for all of eternity. 

But when the stranger breaks the kiss, it’s still Dennis; still sharp lines and a rigid brow, pursed lips, and something rare and open in those wide, blue eyes flickering out as the mask is tied back on. 

In all of Mac’s dreams, they don’t get this far. They don’t kiss. He always wakes up before they do it. Which only means one thing:

“This is a nightmare,” Mac whispers. It’s all he can think to say. It’s the only explanation. 

“Yours or mine, buddy?” Dennis says softly. It’s quiet enough that Mac shouldn’t be able to hear it, but he does because he’s watching Dennis’ mouth so intently he could probably draw it later, from memory. His eyes linger there as Dennis turns in the other direction, walking away before Mac can take a breath. 

“Wait!” Mac calls after him, trying to catch up, weaving through the crowd. It’s so like Dennis to power walk out of any compromising situation. Mac should know - he’s seen him do it a million times and not once has he been able to keep up. The guy’s got the stamina of a show pony. The last time he did it, he didn’t come back, and Mac’s reliving it again, for the hundredth night in a row. Remembering everything he didn’t say, or tried to say but it came out wrong. 

“Dennis, wait!” Mac calls again, shoving the server from earlier aside as she walks between them. “Move, bitch!” 

One moment he sees Dennis’ silhouette in the crowd, curls haloed by the overhead lighting, fingers digging into his palms in that way he does when he’s nervous, the arc of his tensed shoulders, shifting through the masses. The next, he’s gone. 

“There you are!” Dee’s hand is on Mac’s shoulder, spinning him around. She and Charlie are staring at him with twin looks of concern. “Where the hell have you been!? We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” 

Everything is ten times louder all of a sudden like someone ripped his headphones out of his ears at the gym.

“I was…” Mac presses his hand to his mouth. His fingers are trembling. “Did you two see him?”

“Who, Estevan?” Dee asks, head cocked inquisitively—yes, like a bird. 

“Estev—no. No.” Mac lifts his hand from his mouth to his forehead, massaging the skin there. It takes everything to move, suddenly. He feels like a bug, suspended in amber. “Guys, I think those edibles were laced with something.”

“I think you’re right, man.” Charlie says, “I just spun so much I wore a hole in the dance floor” 

“It’s true,” Dee says, “I tripped over it and got blue everywhere.” 

“Yeah, it’s everywhere. There’s blue everywhere,” Charlie adds.

Mac’s heart is beating so fast he can feel it in his ears, over the beat of the poppy synth music. Reality has rushed back in, the bar buzzing with energy once again. Maybe it always was. 

“I—I think we should call it a night, guys. I need to get some air. I’m seeing things.”

Dee and Charlie exchange a look. Maybe they’ll take him for a walk after all. “Yeah,” Charlie says, “I think that’s the right move. Not that this hasn’t been so fun!”

“Oh! So fun!” Dee parrots, unconvincingly. 

“But yeah, let’s go.” As Charlie motions toward the door, Dee flashes a bundle of paper towels.

“Oh, I almost forgot, I brought you this for the—” she stops, staring at Mac’s chest. “What the hell? Did you change your shirt?”

“No, why would I…”

He looks down, padding at the spot where there was once a blue stain. Now, nothing. 

They all look at each other, letting the beat of confusion hang between them before deciding at once: “The edibles.” 

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Dee says. She flares out her cape dramatically and leads them through the crowd. 

Mac trails behind her, eyes unfocused, the desire to be curled up on the couch watching Anakin burn to death in the lava river greater than he could have ever imagined. ‘I hate you,’ he’d said. ‘I loved you.’ Obi-Wan had replied. It’s where Mac had left off.

A wet napkin gets stuck to the sole of Charlie’s sneaker. He kicks it off and stumbles after them. “So wait, who’s Estevan?”

read more here <3

[tech15]

India's Satellite Defense: A Cosmic Strategy with a Russian Twist

From being weather predictors to finding which road leads to the nearest café, there has been a sea change. Today, they are so much more: space has become an arena of national security, espionage, and military operations; the game is a serious one or, in some cases, competitive. For India, the juggling act demands strategies that merge technical acumen with strategic foresight and, yes, avoiding too much of a cosmic mess.

No one can disagree that countries like the United States and China have turned space into their own playground of espionage. Take the National Reconnaissance Office in the United States. These boys have satellites so advanced, that they can spot a military base from space with the same clarity that you would expect if you were zooming in on Google Earth – only without the lag. And then there are the GPS satellites, guiding us through rush hour while also providing the military with precise coordinates for any operation. GPS: is useful for locating the nearest coffee shop and. coordinating airstrikes.

Nor is China slacking. Its Yaogan and Tianhui satellites are thought to have been employed in stealthy voyeurism of troop movement and military capabilities of neighbouring countries (India, anyone?). Think of it as the intergalactic analogue of spying over the fence into your neighbour's backyard-except with so much more riding on the outcome.

India, in 2019, finally decided it needed to show it was not a total spectator in this great space race. With Mission Shakti, it successfully used an anti-satellite (ASAT) missile to obliterate one of its own satellites in low Earth orbit. India was saying, "We have our eyes on you too," particularly aimed at countries like China. And yes, it was a really big display of muscle, much like flexing your muscles at a space bodybuilding competition.

Sure, but ASAT technology is pretty hot stuff, and it's also like using a sledgehammer to kill a fly. Of course, it works, but now you have the satellite debris swirling around Earth at thousands of kilometres an hour. So what started as a way to eliminate one threat ends up resulting in a space junkyard that can knock out communication satellites or mess with your Netflix stream. No one wants that.

Whereas blowing things up is a tad less. evolved, there are smarter, less. explosive ways of dealing with unwanted satellites. For instance: signal jamming: is like placing a cosmic "Do Not Disturb" sign on enemy satellites. It's non-violent, doesn't leave a trail of space debris and you don't have to mop up after.

Then there is cyber warfare. Why blow up a satellite, after all, when one can hack it? Seizing an enemy satellite can be a way for India to render it useless or turn it into a double agent. Borrowing the Wi-Fi of your neighbour is like it only greater and far more secret.

Last, but certainly not least, non-kinetic weapons such as laser blinding systems, will temporarily blind a satellite's sensors but with no permanent harm. You are like putting sunglasses on the satellite; no destruction at all, just a nice dark view

Now, let's talk about Russia. Russia is a country known for its disruptive ways, both on Earth and in space. Be it their cyberattacks or their geopolitical moves, Russia tends to leave its mark wherever it goes. But, in this case, their "disruptive" nature could actually be an asset for India. Think of Russia as the unpredictable, slightly eccentric partner whom you bring along because, despite their quirks, they know how to get the job done.

Russia has long been an ally of India in space technology and indicated an interest in collaborating with India in the direction of enhancing India's defences of its satellites. Whether developing jamming technology or enhancing cyber defences, Russia's expertise will help India protect its satellites effectively without being destructive. After all, if anyone knows how to shake things up in space, it's the Russians!

India made a very bold and dramatic statement with Mission Shakti, that amounts to bringing fireworks to a diplomatic dinner. While it demonstrated the strength of India to the world, relying on ASAT technology is a bit too heavy-handed, not to mention messy for the long haul. Better options like jamming, cyber warfare, and non-kinetic methods lead to effective alternatives without cluttering space with debris. And with Russia's penchant for disruption, but this time a helpful one, India can continue evolving its satellite defence strategy while keeping its cosmic neighbourhood a little cleaner.

[darkpoisonouslove]

Breaking Diamond

Summary: In a crucial moment when everyone's already risking their lives to break the curse of Dyamond, Stella pushes herself past her limits. Brandon has a meltdown at the thought of losing the love of his life and forces all their friends to take a little more responsibility for their own safety

CW: canon-typical violence and mentions of death

This mentions some information from season 8 but should be possible to read without having watched it. I made up a lot of my own lore since the show really didn't bother and I fixed a plot hole or two in the process. I got a little carried away with that and that's why this is as long as it is.

Brandon’s bones rattled from the impact of blocking the giant claw stabbing the space a mere inch from his face. The clash rang in his ears in tandem with the roaring of the creatures. The broad, transparent green strip of his sword was the only barrier between him and the biting magic of the Dyamond monsters. The air tumbled down his throat hard and cool like ice cubes as his hand quivered. From the stinging cold or the exertion of pushing back against his assailant – it was impossible to tell.

“Brandon!”

“Fall back!”

Stella and Sky yelled over the unforgiving howling of the wind lashing out every time one of the girls attempted to fly. The sudden and unpredictable bursts made him grit his teeth harder as if his battle training would escape him along with the uneven, short puffs of his breath.

The slashes and jabs he’d practiced with his sword until they’d become second nature were useless against the frost that had come to life under the sound of their footsteps. Their mere presence had steered the environment to violence and their number did nothing in their favor as the rest of the Specialists weren’t faring any better than him. Watching Red Fountain crumble under the coils of Icy’s magic hadn’t paralyzed him so thoroughly when his classmates and teachers had fought by his side against the regenerating decay monsters. Here the hissing blocks of ice with needle-sharp teeth were limited in number but the white of their bodies stretched all the way into the horizon. There was no end to the curse of Dyamond.

The reach of Stella’s light was the only safety around except for the ship orbiting the planet at Timmy’s command. Yet, the wobble in her arms had sneaked all the way into her voice despite the steady stream of warmth covering his back unlike the brief explosions of heat announcing Bloom’s movements over the battlefield.

Even her power was failing against the ice monsters that learned it no differently from the attacks of all the other girls. Once a spell was used against them, they collectively gained immunity to its particular structure. Something about water being proven to have memory according to both Tecna and Layla.

The creature in front of him raised its arm to make him stumble without a counterweight. Right in the way of the swooping ice claw ready to smash his skull.

Thin threads snaked around him and pulled him back. The ice claw tore the air where his face had been and shattered the frozen earth. The clamor shook Brandon where he hit the ground, his ribs threatening to crack from the force knocking all the air out of him. The cold burned his stiff fingers that clutched pointlessly at the hilt of his sword as he failed to brace himself.

He couldn’t even groan, only lift his head for Helia’s concerned face to come into focus. He managed a thumbs-up to thank him for his timely use of the power glove before he scrambled to push himself up to his feet.

Both he and Helia jumped at Nex’s scream and the flickering of the light dome covering them. One of the monsters pierced through the magical barrier, only a breath away from Nex’s face and the chills he had to feel in the proximity ran down Brandon’s spine as well. Stella’s shield that was still a “magic in progress” was impossible for the creatures to adapt to until complete but her energy wasn’t endless.

A laser beam out of Timmy’s new blaster severed the ice claw where Stella’s light made it vulnerable. The protruding limb crumbled to the ground under the creature’s shrieking.

“Thanks, Timmy,” Nex grinned, seemingly unfazed by the blood-curdling sound.

“No problem.” The wariness in Timmy’s voice only reverberated in the lack of a smile or at least the hints of one.

“Hey, Sky,” Brandon yelled out in no particular direction, “falling back might be the only strategy we have left here.” He used his sword as a crutch to steady himself on his feet.

“I hear you, buddy, but if the ship gets destroyed... we’ll be stuck here,” Sky’s response barely made it over the wind.

It was difficult to tell where it came from with Bloom flying Sky all over the place wrapped in fire. Her powers left her the only one able to counter the magical winds the ice creatures caused. She just had to keep the flames away from everyone else to avoid burning them.

“I need you all to form a circle around me,” Stella’s voice was loud and clear despite the strained micro pause following every word. “Timmy, get the ship right above us at the edge of the atmosphere.”

Brandon scampered to her to watch her back. If she covered them in a sphere of light, that could allow the girls to fly the Specialists up to the ship. If it were possible with her wings quivering from the exhaustion seeping into them from her muscles.

The others flocked back under the protection of the shield with the monsters stabbing through the air and the dome of light after them. Everyone circled him and Stella, fairy next to a Specialist as if they’d had his idea.

“Done,” Timmy’s voice had Brandon focusing on a speck hovering above their heads that could very well be a figment of his imagination.

“What’s the plan?” Tecna looked to Stella instead of bothering to double-check on Timmy.

“Hold them back while I refocus my magic.”

Brandon’s stomach twisted and he nearly lost his balance from the rush of blood pounding in his ears. If anyone else was as shocked as him, their body language didn’t betray them. They all turned around, following Stella’s instructions while his eyes widened to the size of stars still not getting a clear image of her.

“Stella, no!”

Arms trapped him in a vise grip, the friction of his strength against the other person’s scorching through him to do nothing for his numb fingers. The hilt of his sword was digging in his skin to bruising but he couldn’t reach for Stella.

“You’re too exhausted,” the words stuck to his throat like he had to swallow ice blades and his tongue was frozen.

“We have no choice,” Stella gritted her teeth as a wave of magic flowed from her under her direction to sweep over the rest of them.

“Do it, Stella,” Bloom’s words burned in Brandon’s ears.

It was a flash.

Stella’s shield vanished.

The monsters surged at them.

Musa’s sonic waves boosted by Tecna sent them flying back.

Layla’s morphix and Flora’s plants held the creatures down.

A blinding light spilled from Stella and through his body to wash away everything else.

The wind wasn’t stinging his cheeks and lips. The snow didn’t fill his vision. The arms around him weren’t crushing his chest. His own body was erased. There was only the weight in his mind.

His feet hit the ship’s deck and he stumbled with the momentum of the body next to him. Riven grunted an apology in his ear and pulled him to his feet as Timmy dashed to the controls to get them out of there.

Stella’s body crashed into his sight lowered down to the floor by Musa and Sky. She was motionless even as Bloom’s magic flamed around her body like an aura seeping into her skin to melt away the danger.

He made a shaky step back, the voices of his friends mashing together. He slapped away the hands holding on to him, eyes trained on the glow dissipating around Bloom’s hands as Stella’s body absorbed the healing magic to no reaction.

Bloom wavered and fell into Sky’s arms freeing the space at Stella’s side.

Brandon’s knees hit the floor but it was the faint movements of Stella’s chest that were like a gut-punch. His fingers grabbed at her arms and the sparkling orange top that had replaced her Bloomix outfit to move her into his lap as he heaved for breath. Her skin was burning from the effort that had drained every last spark of her magic.

“Stella.” His eyes blurred with tears to keep the horrible stillness gripping her body out of his sight.

Someone knelt on Stella’s other side. There was a quiet rustling before he caught a flash of magic out of the corner of his eye.

“She’ll be fine, Brandon,” Flora’s voice and the warmth of her fingers next to his on Stella’s shoulder reached him. “I’ll need a minute to ground her energy and tie it to the roots of my plants but she’ll wake up as soon as I’m done. You’ll see.”

Flora waited for his reaction but when she didn’t get one, she scooted closer to Stella’s feet and started spreading bright pink pollen around Stella’s body.

“I’ll repeat the healing spell,” Bloom’s feverish hit plowed into him with a wave of nausea as she reached to concentrate the leftovers of her magic.

“No!” Brandon held out his arm to keep her away. “You already did enough.”

Bloom shuffled back as if he’d slapped her until she hit the sturdy body behind her. Everything was a blur in Brandon’s vision but he made out the movements of an arm wrapping around Bloom’s shoulders protectively. Sky.

“Brandon.”

“First you sneak off after the girls and almost get yourself killed and now Bloom drags us on a second mission to a dead and frozen planet. Wasn’t one enough for a lifetime?”

Sky had acted as if almost drowning had been a fever dream. He’d still foolishly mobilized them to go to the surface of a forbidden planet. A cursed planet that they knew nothing about. A dead planet.

Dyamond wasn’t like Domino. The witch that had cursed it was still there, her incantations almost audible in the wind swiping across the whole planet. Her life force made her monsters impervious to both physical weapons and magical attacks. She’d died for her revenge so that her lingering spirit would ensure the rest of Dyamond was forever caught in a death trap as well.

A quiet, trembling voice only ignited his fury further as it whispered, “Brandon.”

“A leader is supposed to do the necessary prep work, not push their teammates past their limits. A simple desire to do good is not enough.”

His teeth ground together like he was biting through ice. He wouldn’t refuse Icy help despite how similarly to Dyamond’s curse her magic had been on the verge of killing them countless times. But he wouldn’t offer assistance at the price of their own lives.

The image of Sky prostrated on the floor with a freezing heart was just as much of a slippery slope in his mind as that of Helia becoming an ice statue after turning on all of them, including Flora. Falling down that rabbit hole was chilling with the reminders of Bloom’s near fatal first encounter with Icy and the coldness looming over all of them with Bloom’s Dragon Fire at the witch’s disposal. He wouldn’t watch Stella be unable to light up the way Bloom had been stripped of her magic.

“Brandon.”

His head snapped back to Stella’s still form in his lap at the brush of her hair against his fingers. He blinked back tears, his eyes widening to sneak a peak past the water curtain blocking them.

The familiar warmth of golden irises greeted him as Stella lifted a slow hand towards his face.

He clasped her fingers and brought them to his mouth pressing soft kisses to them. New tears stung his eyes like the relief was poking his lungs to release all his air. “Stella.”

“Go easy on our friends, Brandon. I’m not the only one who fought but the decision to do it was all mine.” She stroked a fingertip over the cracks in his lips from the cold.

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I...” he cupped her cheek, his heart leaping to reach her when she leaned into his touch and closed her eyes, a small content smile adorning her face. “We’ve already lost too much... We can’t afford to lose anyone ever again.”

He hadn’t been there when Tecna had fallen into Omega but he knew just like the rest of them that the only thing that had been able to fill her absence had been the loud happiness of finding her again. He’d seen Riven push himself in harm’s way to save Musa from Darkar’s spell when he himself had been unable to move. He’d witnessed Stella’s bravery as she’d went down against one of the dragons he’d ridden dozens of times. He couldn’t watch her push herself until she couldn’t recover from the loss of magic. He wouldn’t recover if he had to lose her or another one of their friends after they already lived every day without Nabu’s smile and the ease of his presence to ground even the jumpiest of them.

Stella gasped as if his thoughts had leaked into her and lifted her head to look past him.

The sound of footsteps was so clear in the dead silence that he didn’t startle when a hand grasped his shoulder. He didn’t turn to look at Layla but squeezed her hand, the returned gesture finally freeing his stomach from the knot it’d tied itself into.

“Let’s get Stella to Solaria. The second sun should boost her like nothing else,” Sky suggested.

“No, I’m fine,” Stella waved her hand before reaching to offer Layla her touch. “I can catch a tan once we’ve returned the summer to Dyamond.”

A clicking sound took over the silence only to fade in the background as Tecna spoke, “Brandon has a point. We have to do some research first before we head back to Dyamond.”

“To Alfea then?” Timmy was already fiddling with the ship’s controls.

Brandon nodded, eyes locked on Stella’s fiery gaze as she used Layla’s help to sit up an inch before Layla focused on assisting Flora with undoing the tangle of roots around Stella’s ankles.

“Actually, perhaps Domino’s library would have better records of Dyamond’s past concerns for national security as an ex Dominian colony?” Helia asked.

The feud with the Shaman Witch predated Domino’s fall, that much was clear. Bloom’s parents could have obtained the key information needed to break the curse of Dyamond. They’d updated their books after Domino’s restoration.

“Course is set to the Roc then,” Timmy confirmed the change in plans.

“I’ll call my parents to see if they have something as well,” Layla patted Stella’s hand and stepped aside to where Nex was scrolling on his phone. Probably to pull from his old contacts from his time as a paladin.

“I’ll ask Daphne for her expertise. She can also see what Alfea has and whether Ms Faragonda can offer some assistance,” Bloom extracted herself from Sky’s embrace.

“I’ll do that,” Flora rose up from Stella’s side. She smiled at Stella and headed to an empty corner of the ship to have the conversation undisturbed.

Bloom caught Brandon’s gaze while she was checking on Stella from a distance. She murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Watching her bow her head in defeat send a pang of guilt through Brandon. “I’m sorry, too. I wasn’t right to blame you.”

“No, I... was abusing Stella’s effectiveness,” Bloom waved her hands, pointedly looking at Stella to keep her from interfering. Or to keep from looking at Brandon now that she had no more excuses to occupy her. “You were right to call me out.”

Sky wrapped an arm around her waist for support and pulled her back into him. He placed a kiss on her forehead as Bloom nuzzled into his side. He gave Brandon an imploring look booking a conversation for later before leading Bloom to sit down for the first time in hours.

Helia had joined Tecna’s research team and was folding some origami according to her instructions, possibly deciphering some clue.

Musa and Riven were the only ones still standing awkwardly a little ways to the side.

Riven shifted, grabbing on to Musa who had his hand clasped in both of hers. “I was thinking... maybe we’re missing one of the most important sources.”

“Icy,” Stella startled all three of them.

Brandon nodded. “You think you can contact the Trix?”

“Between my sound waves and Darcy’s psychic powers, it shouldn’t be too hard,” Musa almost wrapped herself around Riven who responded in kind to her silent reassurance.

If Icy would be willing to reveal personal information to her sworn enemies, they could very well end up having to work with the Trix. That would require a whole lot of reassurances across the board even if Icy had helped against Valtor.

“We’ll get on to that,” Riven shifted again, avoiding everyone else’s gazes.

“Thanks.”

Riven waved him Brandon off and slowly walked away with Musa who winked at Stella and smiled at him, eyes darting towards Stella to give Brandon a push before she turned to kiss Riven’s cheek. It was a relief to see him melt into her after the death of his best friend had been thrown in his face like that. If the flashback had been too potent for Brandon, he would’ve hardly been able to imagine the force with which it had hit Layla and Riven even if he weren���t trying his best to avoid it.

At least he wasn’t alone in that, everyone else busying themselves with work to focus on the successes waiting for them, not on the failures they’d had to swallow.

“Brandon,” Stella laced their fingers together, pulling him back into the moments when she’d been out of commission to leave him stranded outside her touch. “I’m sorry I worried you. But I have to be in the center of the action to watch your back, and the girls’, and the guys’.” She worried her bottom lip but continued, “You understand.”

All too well. Wherever one of them went, the others followed. And they’d never sit by instead of working on making sure no one else had to lose a friend, a loved one. Even at the price of their own lives.

“I know. I freaked out.” He scrubbed his hand over his face as if he could erase the past to keep it from tainting Stella’s smile and the faint but insistent spark in her eyes.

“I know. I did, too,” Stella grabbed his hand for dear life, her other palm cupping his cheek. “I would never leave you behind willingly. Any of you.”

He’d just have to give her the same amount of love she put out into the world. If he made it a second nature, their love would persevere, stronger than any engagement ring or marriage certificate. Separating them would be much harder than breaking the curse of Dyamond. It would be impossible.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Void Dust.”

Here is the third story for the week. I hope you enjoy!

It had been sleeping , it had been sleeping for a very long time. No one could have known the eons that passed away quietly while it rested in the darkness, cradled by the universe which had spawned it. It was deep within the quiet and the darkness where the cloud cocooned it and protected it from the outside universe.

Not that it much needed protection.

It would know if something was coming, the darkness it had built around itself was thick, and any disturbance would alert it as it could feel the ripples and disturbance of the cloud.

Lying beneath it in the darkness, the ancient starborn lay quietly in the darkness. It had been here for almost as many eons, playing dead and not daring to move a muscle. It could see nothing, but based on the mind of its friends, now long gone, it knew that it could not move without alerting the creature to its presence, and subsequently becoming pray.

It did not know where it’s companions were, floating off in the darkness with their bodies cracked and their juices sucked from their insides. They imagined that anything bumping against their arm or leg might be the the corpses of one of their fallen, but still they lay still never dreaming to look up, just knowing that even the slightest move would cause chaos.

Besides, the soular energy in it’s ribbons had died away millenia ago, and there was no way it would be able to move fast enough to retreat from the thing sleeping in the darkness. So there was only to wait, for thousands of years before and thousands of years after as new stars were born and died, and the entropy of the universe brought it closer and closer to collapsing.

In the cold madness of their mind they imagined the universe collapsing in on itself as would be inevitable and found itself wishing for that feeling the madness  tugging at the string in their thoughts.

The darkness around them was so silent and oppressive.

The only sound came from the thoughts of the great creature that lay in the darkness, and they dare not push to far as the creature might notice their presence as well. The only thing to do was lay quietly and let their mind die away into nothingness as the eons turned into eternity, without even a glimpse of infinity left.

***

Adam sat in the pilot’s chair as he wanted, controlling the strange craft as he had been directed by one of the mikes. He had offered to take his ship in, but they had insisted he take one of theirs. This small ship was capable of micro warping, and so could be taken into the abyss without him gambling on his entire ship and everyone inside. He didn’t bring very many people with him, only a scientist or two who had interest in studying blackness more closely. He didn’ need warriors. If there was going to be combat, it would take place inside the ship.

He pressed his hand against the glowing dome on the console before him and slowly accelerated forward. tThe controls of this strange ship were pretty dummy proof and relatively easy to handle. He would have bet any layman could have flown one in space to some degree of success, though, at an offer to being able to fly an alien ship, it wasn’t like he was going to let anyone else take his place.

“Anything.” he radioed back to the ship.

“Nothing you signal is still clear, beginn the first microwarp progression in ten.”

He reached forward flipping the switch that would prepare the ship for a microwarp, and then turned the dial to bright green to indicate that it was going to be a microwarp burst. The mikes said that the micro warps weren’t exactly the most pleasant thing ever, but it probably shouldn’t bother a human all that much.

He was sort of flattered by their faith in humans, but still braced himself as the countdown began.

There was a sudden jolt as the end of the countdown came, and his stomach crawled down into his belvis and his heart jumped up into his throat. The world turned itself upside down three or four times in quick succession, hardly allowing him to get his bearings until finally they jerked to a stop.

His body swayed slightly as he rocked forward in his seat. Behind him he heard the scientists groan softly. He shook himself surprised to find that apparently the mikes could handle undamped warp. He guessed that those little guys were a bit more resilient than he thought they were.

He reached out to key the comms array, “Omen, this is Dragonfly, do you copy.”

He had to wait for a few seconds before they came in, “Dragonfly this is omen, we are still reading you but…. The signal is extremely weak, I don’t know but it seems like you are further away than you should be. We are getting back very little signal from you. If it weren’t for the microwarp signal, I doubt we would catch your signal.”

That seemed strange to him, they weren’t father out from the Omen than earth was from mars, which in the astronomical view of things wasn’t very far at all, mars was practically in Earth’s backyard even when they were on opposite sides of the sun.

“Alright, copy that, we are going to go ahead and do some tests here and then warp back.”

He turned around in his seat to make sure the scientists were already to their work, and of course they were, taking readings and making measurements. 

Adam let them do what they needed to do, offering to help if they needed an extra hand, but knowing they probably wouldn’t need it.

He walked over to the window and looked out into the darkness. He was staring back towards the ship, but frowned. Something seemed rather strange.

He leaned forward a little and squinted.

It seemed…. Darker than it should have been.

Yeah sure space was plenty dark in comparison to direct sunlight on earth, but there was always some light filtering in from somewhere. And if this palace really was just a giant black pit of nothingness devoid of stars, than he should still be able to see the stars behind them with relative ease.

“Have you guys tried just…. Looking outside.”

The scientists lifted their heads from their instruments and stopped puzzled at what they saw.

“Can you take measurements about the amount of light that is coming through to us.”

They nodded, “yes sir, it wouldn’t be that hard at all.:

“And knowing how bright those stars are normally, can you make a base comparison to see if they are dimmer or brighter than they should be at this distance.”

There was a generally consensus that was something they could do, and so he left them to their work staring out the window nervously tapping his foot against the ground. He would have liked to help them, but at the end of the day he was a pilot and a soldier, not a scientist, and the most he would ever have been able to help with was orbital calculations.

***

It drifted in the darkness and before its dreamscape thoughts it saw colorful visions of the darkness before it. It saw an expanse of blackness and then pure white and then rushing stars all around it. Colorful nebulae swam in its vision lighting it with warm cosmic rays of the universe warmed it from one infinite end to the other.

It slept as the years in the thousands passed away.

It remembered light and darkness and, to its annoyance, that was encroached in on by images. Images of creatures bright white and blue  snaking through the darkness with little effort. Seeing that thing made it churn in its sleep. What a nuisance the creature and it’s master have been , for millions of eons what an annoyance, too powerful for their own good and annoyingly meddlesome. 

And that beautiful creature that curled around it’s undeserving neck. 

More churning, more agitation. It's great vast body swirl the mist around it in a great billowing cloud as it knocked against small things in the darkness, small things, tiny things….

Dead things.

Sure it has gotten a little bit of revenge against them, but that was hardly enough to satisfy it, but it had been given an ultimatum, either sleep for a million years or be destroyed, and so it slept on angrily, waking up every few thousand mallinea out of spite for the great powers that had forced it here.

***

Adam brought them back to the omen with another microwarp.

This time he was more prepared and shook off the dizziness a little easier as he came into place. 

“Admiral…. Admiral are you there.”

The voice seemed nervous, which made him rather nervous as he keyed the mike,, “Yeah this is Adam, what’s wrong.”

“Sir, we have lost your signal, we can’t seem to find you.”

He frowned, “Look out the window, I am right here.”

He heard scrambling on the other end of the line and then, no sir, I… we can’t see you, and the radar isn’t picking up anything.” With a frown adam turned to his windscreen and then paused. It was almost completely black outside, which didn’t seem right. He had warped right to the coordinance he had been given.

He leaned over his radar equipment examining the blinking lights like the Mikes had instructed, and on the radar he could see the Omen bright and proud right next to them, but for the life of him, he couldn’t see.

That was…. Mildly unfortunate.

“Open up the landing  port on deck D, I am going to land, make sure there is a decontamination field ready.”

An affirmative response came over the line, and he slowly coaxed the ship forward using only the radar to manuver. The scientists behind him sat nervously, their teeth gritted as he flew blind, but they shouldn’t have worried, if anyone was going to pull off such a stunt, it was going to be Adam.

They landed without cause for worry, and the airlock doors closed behind them. He couldn’t see the red blinking light, but he could feel the slight thud as the doors closed and the pressure equalized. It was then he knew for sure something was off. He still couldn’t see anything.

He pulled on his helmet and instructed the others to do the same before opening the hatch.

The group of them stepped outside onto the deck, just as another few teams in hazmat gear were spilling onto the deck. When they did Adam watched as both mikes and Humans alike stopped in shock, staring back at the small shuttle.

Adam turned and his eyes went wide.

He took a step back and then another until he was standing halfway in between the two groups staring at the shuttle. It was…. A void, or that’s how it looked. The outside was coated in a layer of blackness so profound that no light reflected from it. There were no curves or contours, making it appear as a flat 2D object in a 3D space. He blinked two or three times not sure what he was seeing.

He circled the ship from one side to the other, and on all sides the story was the same. It was so black, that it completely absorbed any and all light.

A few of the scientists moved forward muttering, while the others looked over the data that had been collected.

The leader of the Mikes floated up, “I believe this is why we could not hear your signal.” he motioned to the ship, “IAs radio and other frequencies are simply forms of light, if,.... Whatever this substance was blocking your way, it would have been difficult if not impossible to send any sort of light array through that cloud.

“So that is what we think it is then? Some sort of cloud.”

There was a nod from the Mike, or at least a sudden flashing of lights which Adam  determined was similar to a nod.:”

One of the mikes returned, having scraped a sample off the side of the ship and put it into a small vile.

“See here, it seems as if this substance is some sort of densely packed dust cloud with very ultrafine particles.”

It jiggled the dust around in the vile and almost immediately the entire inside of the vile was covered in it.

Adam turned to look at his ship, “But…. in that case.” He frowned, “This all doesn’t make sense because….” he paused, “Nebulae are clouds of dust, but the dust itself is almost impossible to notice while you are INSIDE the nebulae. Nothing condolences that close together without forming a star of some kind. There is no way that this dust is packed together thick enough to cover the entire shuttle without accumulating into some sort of mass.”

The mikes looked as if they agreed with him but one of them was lost mostly in thought.

“It wouldn’t if something was periodically disturbing the dust?”

“If it was, than based on the laws of motion, the dust would have dissipated by now and would not have just stayed in the same area.”

“Perhaps there is some sort of gravitational field that keeps it pulled into place?”

Adam shook his head, “Again we ask the question that, if there is some sort of gravitational field than why hasn’t all the dust accumulated it it yet.” he held up his hands, “I am not trying to argue with your logicalm all I am saying is that cloud is not behaving in a logical manner, so I have a very hard time believing this is some sort of natural phenomena.”

There was a pause as The scientists looked between each other.

“So you are under the impression that this is some sort of….. Phenomena drive from….. Organic means? As in it is artificial and created by aliens?”

“What other explanation is there?”

***

They were almost crushed to death as the creature moved. Its infinite mass knocking against them and  sending them wildly out through the mist. It cried out in pain inside its mind as dark particles flew ast it pepering its skin and became ingrained into its body as it had done for millions upon millions of eons. The force was so great that it was shot out from the cloud at unbelievable speeds though the movement of the particles past it’s body slowly slowed them until they were simply adrift.

They opened their eyes for the first time in a millennia and what they saw….. What they saw almost broke them. Distant light from a thousand tiny pinpricks rolled in the universe above them. The light from stars looking so  warm and distant that they could have died of happiness at that moment. They opened their ribbons expecting the subtle charge of sunlight, but felt nothing.

They paused in confusion and then looked down at themselves.

They could see nothing.

In horror the realization struck and they clawed at their skin trying to rip off the black dust from what had once been porcelain white,  but nothing they did work, a thousand years had allowed the grains to infiltrate their body and dye their skin with impenetrable blackness. They moaned softly in despair knowing that they would never move again. Without the sun they could not move, without the stars they would die.

But perhaps it was better to die where they could see the light rather than somewhere they could see the darkness.

They had almost given in to this reality when they lifted their head and saw other things floating past them.

It was hard to make them out as they too were stained with the strange dark substance, and so they only saw them as dark smudges against a backdrop of stars, but soon they saw enough, enough to see thousands upon thousands of lifeless stained corpses floating out from the cloud, their ribbons dangling limp behind them.

[mandalorewhore]

Recovery

Gif by @antietum​

PART 2 OF MOMENTS IN-BETWEEN

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1.5k AO3 link

Content: light angst, fluff, bonding, found family, developing feelings for grogu, din is introspective

Summary:  Soft moments between Din and Grogu that the audience does not get to see In-between episodes, scenes, and seasons.  

A/N: pour one out for kuiil

***

The child has been asleep for hours. At least twenty-four hours to be exact, not that Din is counting. No, Din is definitely not counting.

The nagging worry that itches in the back of his mind must be a leftover injury from his experience with the Mudhorn. No other reason. It must’ve crept up on him, unnoticed under the exhaustion in Din’s bones. He is having trouble keeping his hands still at the moment, an unusual reaction for the bounty hunter. I must be concussed, Din thinks crossly, I shouldn’t be this distracted. 

Still, whenever Din gives in and checks on the sleeping child, he finds that his hand is immediately steadier, remaining that way until his anxiety works itself back up to a peaking point. 

    Kuiil works alongside Din, a fantastic partner not just for his mechanic knowledge, but because he stays silent nearly the entire time. The only exchanges that pass between Mandalorian and Ugnaught are on the topic of repairs. A tool passed here, an assisting hand there. He doesn’t press. Falling into a routine is easy, which makes Kuiil’s glances stand out all the more when Din checks on the bassinet for the third time in the hour. To his credit, Kuiil says nothing about this anxious habit, silently holding up sheets of metal for the Mandalorian to weld in place. 

    Privately, Kuiil believes that this will not be the last time he sees the Child and Mandalorian together. 

    Repairs wrap up quickly with Kuiils help and the Razor Crest is ready for travel within a day. Din thanks him graciously for the assistance, wishing there were more he could offer the Ugnaught despite Kuiil’s refusal to take a single credit as payment. Din is grateful for more than the repairs, but he cannot find a way to put the feeling into words. He was ready to give up the second the Jawas knocked him out and escaped in their towering Sandcrawler with the stolen parts. It was only Kuiil’s encouragement that allowed Din to power through the obstacle, gathering every piece back from the scavengers. In a way, Din wants to apologize to the Ugnaught for his shortness. But in the end, he is a man of few words, and Kuiil is not concerned over Din’s actions.

     Kuiil calls out from his seat on the Blurrg. “May the child survive and bring you a handsome reward!”

Din nods his farewell, silently watching for a moment as the Ugnaught and Blurrg slowly traverse back through the cracked desert hills of Arvala-7, before he turns and shuts the ramp behind him.

With the ship in order, Din continues on his mission to hand over the asset, settling in the worn leather pilot seat with a sigh. The starship’s engine rumbles to life with a satisfying roar, blasting into the atmosphere with more power than the Crest previously possessed. Din smiles under his helmet, wishing now more than ever that Kuiil would’ve accepted payment for the help. His ship is flying more efficiently than before after the Ugnaughts skillful ministrations. However, that nagging feeling won't leave him, his happiness over the Crest stained by a persistent itch at the back of his mind.

    A thought keeps coming back to Din as he pilots the Crest into orbit, one that confuses the Mandalorian. Something about Arvala-7 feels… unfinished. Deep down, Din knows he will see Kuiil again but he cannot pinpoint why he knows this.

Din feels like he could learn from the Ugnaught. Kuiil offered more insight than Din usually accepts from outsiders, most people who encounter him are too scared to say a word. Conversations are rare for Din, so the way Kuiil spoke to him was… enlightening. The Blurrgs were a deadly obstacle until Kuiil taught him to tame and ride them, the Razor Crest was destroyed until Kuiil suggested he trade with the Jawas, the repairs were impossible until Kuiil proved him wrong.

But the child… Kuiil did not try to convince Din that he needed to do anything with the child. But the Mandalorian did not miss the way Kuiil hoped for the child’s survival, twice he remarked on the topic. Despite his parting words, he did not seem like he was speaking of Din’s reward. There was something else implied under the Ugnaughts well wishes. For someone so forward with communication -a tone rarely used around any Mandalorian- there was a mystery in his choice of words...

A mystery Din doesn’t care to figure out at the moment. The ship is repaired and he will return the asset shortly. End of story. 

But the baby-the asset is still knocked out cold, curled up in the bassinet, and breathing shallowly. Its small body is still under the glow of the console lights, even as Din shakes the edge of the pram. Din’s eyes linger on the sleeping child, quick, shallow breaths rising in its chest are the only signs of life. It’s so small, it’s depth of breath should be normal for something of that size, it has to be, right? He does not want to return the quarry cold, the pram holding nothing more than a corpse. A bassinet should never double as a casket. The client assured Din that he knows bounty hunting is a complicated profession, but Din has never heard of anyone returning a cold bounty who died protecting their captor.

A bounty has never saved his life, either.

Din shakes these thoughts away. Didn’t he tell himself he wouldn’t bother to analyze any of this shit? He should focus on navigating the ship back to Nevarro, the multiple encounters with other bounty hunters have set him back far enough. Traveling sub-light leaves the ship too vulnerable even without being followed. 

Din is directing the Crest to the nearest hyperspace route when he hears a sound behind him. A soft babbling from the baby sends a wave of elation through his chest, Din wants to whip around and check on the kid the second he hears it stir. But he holds himself back, instead turning his head ever so slightly to curiously to peer at the small face out of the corner of his visor. The heat-scanning filter on his helmet tells him the child’s heart is steadily pumping blood throughout its body, a sign of good health surely. Feeling calmer than he has at any point in the past week, Din throws the ship into hyperspace, on route to land on Nevarro within a day. 

But even while Din’s eyes are fixed on the transparisteel windows of the cockpit, his mind is 2 feet behind him with the child. It’s quiet, small coos occasionally bubble up from its little bed but there is no sign of it trying to explore the cockpit. The light of hyperspace is streaking across the cockpit, bathing the small space in a ghostly glow that compliments the console lights pulsing softly under his gloves. All this light sensory feedback bounces off the silence of hyperspace, creating a rhythm that lulls him. Typically, Din would take this time to meditate, calming his body’s nervous system after being in a prolonged heightened state while tracking. But as he takes the usual measured breaths he realizes his mind is still halfway in that anxious area, unable to come down for unknown reasons. It’s the child, it has to be. Quarries don’t typically accompany him in the cockpit for long, carbonite is the safest place to store them on the journey between planets. 

He isn’t worried per se, at least not for his own safety around the baby. The usual bounty may take up his focus due to the danger that comes with housing a criminal. But Din can’t keep his mind off the child, it’s choice to save his life and the innate trust it shows to the Mandalorian. Little thing doesn’t know he is the enemy. It may be too young to sense what is going on, or perhaps it is just smart enough to guess that Din saved it’s life when IG-11 turned his blaster to the baby. He hopes it isn’t attached to him because of that.

There is a tugging sensation on Din’s shoulders. 

Whipping around, Din locks his eyes on the asset, expecting some sort of resistance from it at last. But it’s just… Chewing on his cape? It swiftly drops the edge of the fabric from its mouth, jaw open in fear in reaction to Din’s sudden movement. Moisture pools at the edges of its eyelids, black eyes glossing over with tears as it shudders silently with a sob.

Din’s heart twists inexplicably. A sickening feeling permeates his stomach as he watches the tears spill over its cheeks. Reaching out quickly with his cape, Din dabs away tears with swift movements, not wanting to linger on the child's face. The baby is still shrunken in on itself in a pitiful way, but its ears have perked up at Din’s gentle action, even if it lasted for less than a few seconds. With the child quieted and face dry, Din turns jerkily to face the windows again, surveying hyperspace. 

This time he doesn’t react to the soft tugging on his cape. 

[a-third-attempt]

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A/N: Presented on the occasion of @momochrome​‘s birthday.

Inzee is an OC of @momochrome. Source (at her writing blog)

Warnings: Claustrophobia implied, angst with a happy ending. (3240 words)

 * * *

“I need to tell you something.”

“Anything, angel.”

You’d known this was coming. He’d been out of sorts for days. Unusually quiet and slow to respond. Calling a rain check for date night. Even his quiet time tending the garden every morning didn’t seem to be bringing him the peace that it had before. 

Today, Inzee was slumped over the kitchen table, gray-skinned head resting between two massive webbed hands. He wasn’t upset, you noted, the markings on the back of his head bore only the faintest bit of color. But his pointed ears seemed to tell a different story, drooping down. You sat down next to him and smiled patiently. 

He sat with furrowed brow, collecting his thoughts, giving you plenty of time to look him over and be struck once again by how large he was. You had met other Eistirs over the last few years on Enphe, which is how you came to realize that Inzee wasn’t considered particularly muscular. Still, a lifetime of space work had kept him in shape, and what passed for lithe strength on this planet was positively enormous by Human standards. He stood well over two meters tall, with arms as thick around as your thighs and a body to match. 

“I’m glad we decided to settle down.” He hesitated, his four eyes fixed on you, nervously watching for your reaction. “But I’ve got to fly again.”

“What do you mean?”

He grunted. “I’m just going stir-crazy from being grounded for this long. I haven’t sat around on Enphe for more than one orbit since I was a child.” 

Like you, he’d gone to space as soon as he could, following that ephemeral string into the sky, hoping beyond hope that he would find where it led. That was where the similarities ended. Somehow, he seemed to enjoy it, which had always been baffling to you. Your experiences of space travel were spartan, weeks if not months of cramped quarters, bad food, and poor hygiene. When you were in Terran-charted space, you at least had a crew to keep you company. But most of your years of travels were spent far beyond it, in torturous solitude. Components were damaged with each jump, and the hours that you weren’t spending repairing the tin can were filled with tedious calculations to properly chart your course. That far out, the navigation systems were nearly useless. When they broke along with everything else after the nebula jump, you didn’t even bother to repair them. 

“Do you not like it here?” You knew the answer, but you still didn’t understand what he was getting at.

“My sweetheart, you wound me.” He clutched his chest, and you flashed a faint smile. He seemed to be feeling a little better than when you’d first come out, at least. “I love it here. I think I’d love anywhere if you were there. Somehow I just need—” Suddenly his eyes drooped, too ashamed to look at you anymore. “I mean I thought I was just out there searching for you. But maybe I was looking for something else, too, or else this feeling should have gone away, right?”

You nodded slowly. It made sense. You might have been the talkative one, making friends everywhere you went, but he had always been more inclined to adventure. You worked well together, as soulmates should, quickly collecting a large group of like-minded friends all around the world. Soon your leisure time had been positively filled with friendly banter and silly games, and with the effortless travel afforded by Eistir teleporters, there was no shortage of sights to see. At first you had assumed that he was taking you to his favorite spots, but he confessed that most of the time he was visiting for the first time too. I’ve been all around the galaxy, he said, shaking his head, but I’d never known my own backyard.

That life of your dreams had turned into a lump in your throat. How long had he felt this way? He had leased his ship when you agreed to settle back onto his homeworld, when you both thought that your days of flying were behind you. Suddenly, those terrestrial travels seemed like a paltry replacement for extraplanetary flights he could no longer have. Why hadn’t he said anything? Did he not trust you? 

No, no. That didn’t matter. He was telling you now. He trusted you now, and judging by the look on his face, he needed you now. You could worry about the past some other time.

You reached over to rub his shoulder, and ducked your head to meet his gaze. “Inzee, look at me. I love you.” He smiled, ears twitching. Every time. “You know how I feel about flying. But honestly, you’ve been a mess recently, and it breaks my heart to see you unhappy. So if you need to take a trip every once in a while, we can do that.”

He didn’t seem entirely convinced, but his skin brightened a bit more, cupping your hand in his. “You’re really okay with it? I don’t know how much time I’ll need. I could be gone for a while.”

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. “Honestly, angel, I don’t know. I have some really dark memories of being in a ship. But you’ll be there this time, which will help.” He bumped his forehead against yours, one of his cute little gestures that never failed to charm. “Or at least, we can try. I mean, this has to work out somehow, right? We’re soulmates, for god’s sake,” you said, twanging at the string that bound the two of you.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He pulled away, sighing. “Well, I would rather get my old ship back, if I can. That’ll probably take a while.” He looked you over with concern. He would never say that he didn’t believe you, but you both knew that there was more to be said. “Maybe I can start working on that, and you can think about it? Make sure you’re okay with me being gone for a while?”

“Being gone—?” He couldn’t possibly think that you would be staying home? “I’m going with you, you do know that, right?”

“What?” He seemed genuinely shocked. “No, I’m not going to ask you to go back on a ship again, you’ve made it plenty clear—”

A fire rose in your gut; you could hardly believe what you were hearing. “Listen, Inzee.” He snapped to attention at your sharp tone. “I dragged this tiny Human body halfway across the galaxy just to find you. And there isn’t a darn thing in it that could pry you out of my sight for a second.” He gulped, and then, much to your amusement, shivered. It made sense. He wouldn’t be used to hearing that voice in the daylight. You were tempted to push him further, but reluctantly waved the thought away. Plenty of time for that later. This was serious.

But he must have smelled your thoughts, because he completely failed at concealing his laughter. Shaking his head, he whispered, “Oh, what could I possibly have done to deserve you?”

You grinned. “Do you want an itemized list?”

 * * *

It did, indeed, take a while. Days passed and then blurred together as the long series of infuriating telecoms and paper trails paraded on. The red tape brought out a side of Inzee that you had never seen before, not just tenacious but assertive. He navigated the Eistir bureaucracy with an efficiency and ruthlessness that was almost frightening. And, ultimately, effective. After an eternity of wrangling, he managed to wrest back control of his old ship from the rental agency. 

On the morning that everything was official, he could hardly contain his excitement. He put a blindfold on you and stepped you through the teleporter, its buzzing sensation a long-familiar nuisance.

"Okay, take it off!”

As soon as the blindfold fell, you were immediately knocked breathless.

The two of you stood on a grated platform that ran along the rim of a gigantic circular room with vaulted ceilings. Sitting in the center you saw the characteristic green wireframe of a holographic starmap. It was massive, at least twice as big as any you had seen, and the room had clearly been sculpted around it; the projection equipment tucked into the arch of the ceiling, control panels on all three levels of the platform. The far side of the room was a window— a single curved sheet of glass that must have been at least two stories tall. At its edges, it faded into elegant yellow walls covered in vast black screens, woven together by veins of blue and purple crystals and a dizzying array of bright buttons. Eistir script flashed on a few of the screens, some projecting smaller holograms of their own. The room was silent, save the quiet whirring of the machinery and the occasional beeps of a droid buzzing overhead.

“Welcome aboard,” he said, his thick arms squeezing your side.

“This is your ship? It’s as big as our whole house!”

“No, I don’t, don’t think so.” His skin flushed blue. “I mean, the boy is, it’s probably, it’s not quite as—”

You hit him playfully on his side. “Jeez, you idiot! Why did you ever give this up?”

He cupped his hand around his ear, all eyes looking at the floor. “Well, I didn’t need it, anymore, once you found me, you know, and anyway, you didn’t seem so keen on flying— and I didn’t really give it up, I guess— we got it back, you see?”

You barely registered his stammered response, still taking in the grand scale of it all. “Oh, sweet heavens, I would have given the whole galaxy to fly on your ship.” His stories flooded back into your mind, and finally standing in the bright, open space, their reckless enthusiasm suddenly made sense. Of course you would love to fly if you got to fly in this beauty! This wasn’t a budget rocket slapped together to get you one or two jumps away. This was a ship made for adventure.

No, not quite, you remembered. It was, in fact, a science ship, designed for acquiring and testing specimens. You whipped your head around, looking for where the experiments might be run. But as far as you could tell, everything you saw looked like navigational equipment. “Where do you keep your collections?”

His markings glowed, intense with regret. Oh. Right. Immediately you embraced him, resting your head on his cool skin. “I’m sorry.”

The ship had been rented out, and the new astronauts would probably have collections of their own, so his had to be dealt with. He figured the data would be useful to someone, so he spent many long afternoons cataloguing everything; giving the local scientists anything they would take, and carefully documenting the rest. You had begged him to just bring them home and be done with it, but he insisted that he didn’t have the equipment to store them. He was so torn up about it, but there was nothing to be done.

“It’s okay,” he said, quietly. He wrapped you up in his arms and you savored his thick scent. “There’s a collections room.”

“There’s a what?” you demanded, jerking your head back. You were so taken aback, you’d forgotten that you were supposed to be soothing him. He tilted his head, confused.

“A… collections room? Uh, to keep everything organized?”

Your jaw dropped, and your eyes spun around the chamber. “There’s more?”

Finally understanding, he chuckled. “Ah. Yes, my love. Come on, I can give you the tour.”

“Holy shit.” 

Your mind was reeling as you followed his lead along the grated platform. He turned abruptly and the wall parted, revealing a short corridor, not quite wide enough for both of you to fit at once. He took your hand in his and you walked through to the other end, where a similar portal opened into a new room.

And when he stepped in, it was Inzee’s turn to gasp.

“Impossible…”

You rubbed your eyes as you adjusted to the light. This room was admittedly less grandiose than the navigation room, although still beautiful in its own way. It was smaller, but possibly even taller, with locker-like doors of all sizes lining the walls. A mess of Eistir script was scrawled on most of them, although it had clearly been rubbed off several of the larger doors at your eye level, replaced with more careful, steady handwriting. It wasn’t much to look at, you thought, but your partner was shell-shocked.

“What is it, angel?”

“They couldn’t have left all of it.” He started pacing around the room, sliding his hands across the glyphed doors. His body trembled as he pressed on one and it hissed open, letting loose a puff of orange steam as a shelf slid out. “Sweet oceans, they did.” He pressed frantically on the doors, drawers and tanks emerging.

“I can’t believe it.” He jumped back to you and swept you off your feet, practically lifting you up in the air. “It’s all here!”

He was still shaking as he squeezed you. You grinned like an idiot to see him so happy. “I thought you cleared it out!”

“I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” He returned an embarrassed smile. “I made all the records and put a note in the system asking them to remove it. Maybe a bit rude, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually throw it away.”

You finally gave in to your curiosity and pressed a door open. The tray that emerged was dense with easily a hundred pencil-thin glass tubes. Some of them were empty, it looked like, while others were foggy and bore subtle colors. “Atmosphere samples,” he crooned, sliding one along the webbing between his fingers. “From the Kredar supersystem. A lot of gas giants.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, is each one a different planet?”

He laughed. “There’s a couple repeats, probably.” The words hit you like a truck. Nearly a hundred planets behind this one door. In a room filled with doors, wall to wall, floor to ceiling. 

“I can’t believe they left it all behind.”

You giggled, despite yourself. “You left it all behind.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m just teasing, angel,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I’m going to make you tell me about every one.”

“Good thing I’ve already taken notes.” One of his eyelids closed clumsily, and you stifled another giggle. You’d been trying to teach him how to wink, and he still needed a bit of practice.

You slid over one of the ladders attached to the walls and climbed up a few rungs. “Hmm, what’s iiiiiin…” you waved your hand around a section of the doors. “this one?” You slapped one of the larger squares. It opened cleanly, with none of the fanfare of the others, and a glass box rolled out, filled to the brim with— 

Lego?

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Inzee clutched his sides as he bowled over laughing, nearly falling on the floor. “Oh no! Don’t tell me you have those evil buggers too!”

You grabbed a handful of bricks. They were a little different than you were used to, lacking the familiar branding, some a bit misshapen. And they were clearly not all made from plastic. Some were metallic, others almost leathery. Throwing them back in the box, you glared at your partner, still wheezing on the ground below you. “What are you on about?”

He was gasping too hard to speak. You shook your head and hopped off the ladder, looking him in the eye as you shook him gently. You tried to appear unamused, but you weren’t sure if you were succeeding— it was adorable to see him like this, and his smile was infectious.

Eventually he calmed himself down enough to explain. “Nearly every race that we have made contact with has invented some version of those things. Not too hard to believe, I suppose, a toy for curious children that gets replicated across worlds.” He shook his head, another chortle busting through. “But you would think that someone would have found a way to make them that doesn’t hurt like hell when you step on them.”

“I cannot believe that the common thread uniting civilizations across the galaxy is fucking Lego.”

“Come on, that’s not the common thread. We all do language, water treatment, fusion, that kind of stuff.” Inzee snorted. “But yes, it is a incredible coincidence.”

“Oh, that gives me an idea. We should swing by Earth!” You frowned, one complication of that plan springing quickly to mind. “Well, it is pretty far away, we’d have to fly for a while. But you don’t already have Human-Lego, right? And I’m sure there’s other collections we could fill out, too.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful!” His markings swelled with blue, and he spread his arms wide in deference. “I would be honored to visit your homeworld.”

“How soon can we start?”

His eyes were so bright, you swore you could see by them. “What’s gotten into you, my love? Just a few days ago I thought you were ready to call off the whole thing entirely.”

“It’s your ship, Inzee. There’s so much light and space. I can breathe in here.” As if to demonstrate, you loudly inhaled through your nose. He shot you a bemused glance, and you stuck out your tongue. “Oh god, you should have seen the tin can I flew here in. If I could have had this, everything would have been better, I’m sure of it. This ship, your ship, it’s amazing.”

He had been soaking in your words with an awkward sort of pride, as if you had been praising him rather than his ship. Perhaps you had been. But at the end, his expression suddenly softened, and his skin glowed a bright red. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. 

“No, my love. You are amazing.” Towering over you, he leaned down to join his eager lips with yours. His hearts pounded blood through his body, and you felt them as if they were your own, the rhythm of the kiss synching to his hypnotic pulse. You nursed it, squeezing him as you deepened it, his quickening breath sending tingles up your spine. 

Neither able nor willing to control yourself, you stepped forward, urging him toward the wall. He gave in to your demand just as instinctively, shrinking back further and further until you slammed him against the doors, pinning him down. He could surely have broken out had he wanted, but the blue heat radiating from his skin told you he had no such desire. This was a man bent on fulfilling your fantasies— or, rather, a creature, an Eistir— any interest you had in the details vanished completely as his silky hands slipped under your shirt, the light touch of his webbing teasing soft moans from your chest.

In retaliation, you slid your tongue into the fork of his, but when he tried to lean in, you pulled away completely. You smirked wickedly at his quiet whines, lifting his chin up with one finger and setting your gaze into his eyes. “Show me to the captain’s quarters, angel.”

[sweetjekyll]

Damaged ─ Chapter 1

pairing: Oh Sehun x OC Reader (Nora)

genre: Exo Planet AU, Lucky One AU, Power AU, Alien AU, Futuristic / sci-fi AU, Romance, Angst, Action, Science, Military-ish rating: 18+ chapter warnings: mentions & descriptions of death, parental loss, alcoholism, toxic parenting, physical violence, cursing (Please read carefully the warning tags in the masterlist and those at the beginning of each new chapter to avoid any unpleasant misunderstandings.) word count: 5.6k

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Location: Exo Planet, outside of Elyxion City

Sehun's obsidian eyes lazily gazed at the night sky littered with stars, two of the four moons orbiting Exo Planet were visible like shiny dots reflecting the light of the sun. One of the celestial satellites appeared bigger than its fellow one as it was closer to the planet's gravitational field, orbiting faster than the planet rotates.

He just laid there on the dry ground emotionless with his head resting on top of his bent up arms. He was tired both physically and emotionally; something heavy weighed on his heart, an ache that felt like a fresh cut each time his mind brought him back to the events of a few days ago. He let out a long sigh as his eyelids fluttered closed for a moment, feeling as if the moons were judging him so he stopped staring at them. A mistake. As soon as he closed his eyes he was back on the field.

He felt the air still, dread crawled up his spine as his eyes turned towards the spacecraft. It took only a blink of an eye before he sprinted in the vehicle's direction, yet no matter how fast everything happened that day, he kept on reliving it all in slow-motion. There was a strong explosion before he could reach the spacecraft and Sehun was sent flying back from the gust of wind, mixed with flames and debris, his back hit the ground as he struggled to breathe in the air that had been knocked out of his lungs from the collision. The screams were distant, barely audible, but they were still there and full of fear and pain.

Sehun inhaled sharply as he shot his eyes wide open while bringing his right arm in front of him to inspect it; it felt like the skin was burning yet nothing was there, he could almost smell in the air the scent of burnt flesh, he could almost taste blood on his tongue, he could almost feel again the pain he felt that day. Almost, yet those were just memories in his mind now, there was no trace of what he went through on his skin, it was immaculate as Yixing healed him as soon as he was brought to safety by Junmyeon and Chanyeol.

Sehun's pupils looked past his fingers as the closest moon to the planet had completely obscured the second one, he immediately sat up on the hard ground and looked down the canyon. Crystals started glowing brighter from cracks in the rocks with magenta, blue and yellow hues. He kept his eyes trained on the bottom of the gorge, irises lighting up in expectation as the Tree of Life began glowing as well, its long branches swayed softly, rustling the green leaves till the faint sound reached Sehun's ears. No matter how many times he's seen it, the scenery was still breathtaking. The strong glowing colors of the Exolite crystals subsided after a few short minutes as the closest moon revealed her satellite sister behind her.

A barely perceptible movement in the air alerted Sehun of someone else's presence in his proximity, had it not been for his heightened senses he wouldn't have became aware of the shift in the space behind him, a sense of familiarity washing over him as he grew tired of avoiding everyone and spending time on his own. "What are you doing here?" He asked without even looking at the person.

Jongin huffed as he walked towards his friend and gave him a nudge on the head slightly annoyed, yet once he sat down cross legged next to Sehun, the latter could tell there was worry in his expression. "What am I doing here?" Jongin leaned back on the palms of his hands, then let out a 'tsk' before he continued, "What are you doing here? We're all worried about you. It's been a few days since-"

"I know," he deadpanned, not giving Jongin any time to finish what he was going to say, but Sehun knew very well what it was about. "I... I needed my own time to process, that's it." The low tone let his friend know that he wasn't going to talk about the matter any further, not unless he was ready and wanted to do it, although he would usually go to Junmyeon about his deepest concerns.

Letting silence grow between them after the short exchange of words, Jongin let his eyes wander before him down the gorge as they were sitting on the highest point on top of the canyon. The soft colorful hues of the crystals, which blended together to create secondary colors in certain sports, were like a mesmerizing painting one could get lost into if they admired them for too long. He knew that was one of the reasons why Sehun loved coming here whenever he wanted to let his mind work out his thoughts.

A small oval-shaped sentinel droid flew by and beeped as its sensors picked up onto the presence of two people in the area, then quickly flew towards them. The two paid the machine no attention as they were already used to it, it only took a moment for the droid to scan their faces and search them up in the database, getting a green light of no trespassers and then left to continue patrolling.

Tourists from other planets were not allowed to visit or sightsee there, as much as the arid canyon was one of the main attractions because of its unique crystal abilities, some people craved to obtain even just a small branch from the Tree of Life, believing it to be the main source of power of Exo Planet's inhabitants. Aeris were one of the strongest alien species in the universe, as far as common knowledge went, yet very few Aeris were said to have been 'gifted' by the Tree of Life with special abilities to protect the planet and keep its natural elements balanced. The powers derived from the tree were inexplicable by natural laws, those psychic abilities allowed a person to influence a physical system without any physical interaction whatsoever... No one knew how old was the tree or why it grew in the middle of the hard rocks seemingly without even a source of water to sustain it.

Jongin and Sehun were two of the few people with the unique psychokinetic abilities, which at times they thought of them as a curse rather than a gift. They never asked to be separated from their families and dragged across the globe to be trained and become soldiers, although everyone preferred to call them Guardians of the Tree of Life, the chosen ones. But was it truly some mystical power bestowed upon them by the tree or was it simple genetics derived from evolution? Nobody knew and they preferred to leave it that way.

A sudden sigh broke the silence and Jongin's eyes were drawn to Sehun. "We should go."

Jongin nodded in agreement as he began standing up, following his friend. "I heard we're getting a visit tomorrow at the base."

"Huh?" Sehun's eyebrows quirked in confusion. "Since when did we ever get visits at the base?" Yet his question was left unanswered as Jongin shrugged his shoulders.

Location: Neo Zone, somewhere in Neo City

Neo City was Neo Zone’s most relevant megalopolis on the planet, the capital was rich with the most diverse alien species living in tall concrete skyscrapers, as the inhabitants used to say ‘so tall they could almost tickle the sky’. Sun-rays barely reached the bottom of the buildings, even during the day the streets were lit up by artificial lights, down there the air was so polluted that only those who could afford a small bedroom lived in the bottom apartments. It wasn’t at all bad in the original city district, but the living conditions did get progressively worse the further the megalopolis expanded from the center.

Southwest to the main city area, artificial neon lights coming from the tall buildings illuminated the narrow streets, although it was quite late in the night, the alleyways were still buzzing with life. People still roamed the streets chatting with glee, aromas of freshly cooked delicacies filled the air and drew in new customers to the local restaurants; there was laughter and singing in a few corners, intoxicated men and women swayed their bodies in front of the bars that offered the cheapest booze even the poorest ones could afford. A cacophony of deafening songs could easily disorient any fogged up mind looking for entertainment, especially in Mad City, notoriously known for its illegal nightlife and underground activities.

"Do you have eyes on the target?" You heard Taeyong's voice come through the earpiece in your right ear. With eyes trained on a man a good ten meters ahead of you, you swiftly walked through the crowd, blending in with the locals.

“Yes.” Came your brief answer. The man came to an abrupt stop and looked around him, he was probably in his forties, tall, brown hair and beard framing his scowling face. He appeared to be definitely more lucid than the people around you and, as his eyes scanned behind him, you lowered your head hiding your eyes under your black hoodie, then pretended to look at random trinkets on a street vendor’s table.

“Special offer tonight for you, lady, buy three and pay only 2!” The street vendor spoke to you in a loud raspy tone, too many cigarettes made his breath so disgusting you scrunched your nose and shook your head. “Then get the hell away from my merchandise, you punk!”

You scoffed and looked back to your man, gasping as he was nowhere in sight anymore. “Fuck,” you hissed and began walking towards the place you last saw him, mad at yourself for letting him get away. “I lost him,” you said to the air, the people around you barely acknowledged you as they walked past you, let alone did they think you were crazy for talking to yourself in their intoxicated state. At an intersection, you let out a sigh through your nostrils as you debated which way the man could have gone.

“You cannot let him get away, this is the first lead we’ve had in months,” Taeyong reminded you through the other side of the line. “If we can’t catch him now, our opportunity window will close for who knows how long until our next one.”

“Take your right.” Another male voice came through the earpiece, speaking fast, “The areas on your left and in front have a denser populated activity. I’ve redirected Yuta and Jaehyun to your location.”

“Mark, you know I trust you, but if he went any of the opposite ways—“ You started in the direction Mark told you, quickening your pace but still keeping a watchful eye on the people around you, getting fewer as you followed the alleyway and taking right and left turns.

“If he went on the opposite sides, the other guys will take care of him.” Taeyong interjected.

You heard voices and halted your steps, holding in your breath as you flattened your back against the cold concrete of the wall on your left. You stretched your ear and listened, trying to make out what they were saying, and judging by the hushed way some of them argued, you counted at least 4 men. You could take them by yourself, but your main priority was only one of the, and you couldn’t let him escape.

There was no time to waste, you could tell they were about to leave. You whispered as you tapped on the earpiece to send your current location to your teammates for backup. “Engaging in three, two, one—“ You took a deep breath and sprinted around the corned taking the men by surprise. In a swift motion, you used the walls as support and jumped from one side to the other, landing on one of the men you quickly rendered him unconscious by banging his head to the side against the concrete. As soon as the other three realized what was happening, two of them attempted to stop you meanwhile the third, the one you’ve been tailing for weeks now, ran away in the opposite direction. “Target’s on the move!” You yelled immediately receiving a response from Jaehyun that him and Yuta were going to catch up with him on the other side.

One of the men pushed you against the wall and you groaned, but quickly dodged an incoming fist to your face as you ducked and he hit the wall instead, wailing in pain. You grabbed him by the same wrist he was clutching in pain and tugged him towards you once you noticed the other man had his laser gun out and attempted to shoot you, instead hitting his friend. Since you had nothing to defend yourself with but your hands, you pushed the now limp body towards the man with the gun, which missed him but it was enough of a distraction for you to leap once more and push him against one of the walls. For a brief moment he was surprised of your strength as you managed to keep his back glued to the cold surface with your right palm on his throat while the left hand banged his right one to loosen the grip of his fingers from the handle of the gun. Two laser beams shot from the tip and hit the ground before his fingers finally gave out from the pain. He roared in anger as he swung a closed fist with his free hand to your side, knocking the air out of you, your grip loosened and he pushed you away from him, delivering one more closed fist with his opposite to your face.

Your left side stung momentarily but you did not lose your balance as you turned your eyes back on him. You were pissed. “This is not the way I wanted my night to go.” He scowled and gritted his teeth, ready to charge again, but you were tired of wasting time with these goons while your main target was probably far gone now if Jaehyung and Yuta didn’t manage to track him and capture him. As he directed the same fist to your face you caught his wrist in midair and he gasped, again unable to process just how strong you actually were. You effortlessly twisted his arm and raised your leg before kicking one of his knees, effectively breaking it. He screamed and wailed in pain as you let him drop to the ground and picked up his gun, pointing it towards him.

“Ronan,” you incited him to speak as you pressed the end on the gun barrel to his forehead, “he organized a shipment. When a where will it happen?” His sobs quieted down, although he was still crying. It wasn’t like you were going to shoot him, but he didn’t have to know.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spat out as he impulsively shifted his whole body on the ground, away from the weapon.

“You met in a dark alley in the middle of the night.” You almost mocked him, “Now speak cause I won’t repeat myself again. The shipment, when and where.” You curled your finger more around the trigger and he whimpered, raising his arms up in defeat.

“Alright, alright, I’ll tell you.” He let out a shaky breath and you nodded for him to continue. “The port, in an hour from now.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “The port? There’s no way Ronan’s going to do it in such a secured location, there are Neo Guards everywhere controlling everything that comes in and goes out.”

“Not that port…” He smirked at knowing something that you didn’t. There were too many illegal landing ports in Neo City, there was no time to go on a wild hunt for a needle in a haystack while the clock was ticking. You grew impatient and struck him on the face with the handle of the weapon, making him fall flat on the ground. “Tell me where and what’s inside.” You insisted again, but were quickly dumbfounded when he started laughing despite the pain his body was going through.

“You don’t even know what’s inside…” He snickered with pleasure. “You Neo Culture Techs don’t even know who or what’s behind all of this.” They knew who you worked for, there was no way to tell how the information leaked, but they knew.

You lowered the gun and sighed, then reached up to softly press one of your fingers on your earpiece. “Squad Leader, we need to find the closest landing port in Mad City, one of the goons here said the spacecraft is going to depart in less than an hour.” You said as you pressed the sole of your left boot on his right leg, above the knee, which made him his and thrash in pain.

“Copy that. At least that’s something.” Taeyong sighed and you could tell he had bad news to give you. “Yuta and Jaehyun lost Ronan in the streets. Our only bet is the port now.” You felt your head nodding slowly to his words although it wasn’t like he could see your displeased reaction. “Stand by, they’re headed your way to help you.”

“You should focus on finding the port, I’ll try and get more information—“ You cut off yourself as you looked down at the man and saw his face turn red all of a sudden, before his body began convulsing. Another groan caught your attention and you turned your eyes back down the way you came from; the first man you disabled began convulsing as well. “Something’s happening to them, they’re choking!” You quickly got down on your knees to the man closer to you and dropped the gun down before helping him roll on his side to help him breathe, but everything happened so fast that they stopped moving after a couple of second.

You heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Yuta and Jaehyun making their way towards you. “Are you alright?” Yuta asked you as both of them tried to regain their breaths. “What happened here?”

“They… died.” You whispered utterly shocked. You stood up, unable to say anything else as you looked at your teammates with concern.

Jaehyun looked around for a moment, there were no cameras around here, had they been, Mark and Taeyong would’ve known already, then his eyes fixed on the bodies. He moved to crouch where you had been standing and reached with his hands to tap the man’s clothes; when he found something, he stood up and showed it to us. “A holopad,” he tapped the dark rectangular screen but the object didn’t light up, instead a barely perceptible scent of smoke reached everyone’s nostrils. “They were being surveilled. Whoever is behind this, they hit the kill switch.”

It was way past the hour mark, the man you and your unit had been chasing for months, Ronan, was gone and along with it the chance to get the spacecraft since they were both gone from Neo City now without any trace. You sighed out of disappointment and frustration, your eyes were looking outside of the window wall, you were so high up in the sky and close to the raging clouds that they felt like a physical extension of your feelings mixed together. Lightning exploded in the sky and illuminated the dark room you were in, unmoving from your seat on the bed even when violent thundering made the window walls vibrate, the rain began falling faster and harder.

Knocking sounds coming from your apartment’s front door reached your ears. You glanced at the green numbers on your nightstand lazily before standing up and heading into the living room, the light automatically switched on with a gradual glow until it was fully lit; there was only one person who would come to you in the middle of the night, but when you opened the front door, you did not expect to see Taeyong instead of Johnny.

“Hey,” you greeted while noticing that he was still wearing the black NCT uniform, which meant he was still working. He nodded back a greeting and you stepped away from the door to let him inside. He probably came to talk about the failed mission, and you were already anticipating a scolding for not prioritizing going after the main target. “Found anything from the holopad we brought in?” You hoped there would at least be a chance to a small lead.

Taeyong shook his head, blonde bangs swaying softly at the motion as your last piece of hope was washed away. “No, it was completely useless unfortunately, the internal components were all melted and Mark wasn’t able to salvage any data.”

You nodded in understanding and crossed your arms as you looked at the stark floor, the marbles in your brain rolling fast with all sorts of things you wanted to say and, before you could stop yourself, you were already apologizing to your team leader. “Taeyong, I’m sorry, I should’ve went after him—“

“Don’t be ridiculous, Nora,” he quickly stopped your attempt to blame yourself, “you were in a three on one situation, not to mention one of them was armed.” He eyed the faint purple spot on your left cheekbone. “We knew he was going to meet a source, but I underestimated their level of threat and sent you in alone. I should’ve told the other guys to stick closer.”

“Come one now, I know you’re just trying to make me feel better about it.” you scoffed slightly annoyed. You headed to the kitchen counter and poured yourself a glass of water, taking a long sip. “I took on way more guys than the three in that alley, it’s part of the job. We all knew the risks when we signed up for the Neo Culture Technology program, and there are consequences for failing missions.” It wasn’t like Taeyong didn’t know the risks of the job and the duties, yet he stood there quiet with his arms folded as you blamed yourself unnecessarily. “Isn’t that what you’re here for, squad leader?”

Taeyong heard the shift in your tone, sad as you drew your eyebrows together expecting to hear bad news from the higher ups in the headquarters. He sighed as he lowered his gaze, he closed his eyes for a brief moment and shook his head. “The council decided to not suspend you, Jaehyun and Yuta. Despite having lost the prime target of the mission, there aren’t enough reasons to suspend you from field work.”

“I understand…” You nodded, yet there wasn’t any sign of relief in your expression.

“But…” Your eyes immediately moved from the glass of water on the countertop onto Taeyong’s uncertain voice. “That isn’t the reason why I came here.” A long pause went by between you as he didn’t know how to say what he needed to, he never expected to be the bearer of such unfortunate news. “It’s about your father.”

You had no idea what time it was when you reached your mother’s place, and frankly, you couldn’t care less. You traveled an hour on the railway from your dorms, it was one of the fastest means of public transportation from one point of the unresting megalopolis to another; suspended above ground, it was raised on many different levels and ran among the megatall skyscrapers, even through most of them where the space was needed.

The time you spent on the ride gave you space to process what Taeyong told you about your father. You didn’t cry, at least not right away, you were quick to accept the truth considering the nature of your father’s job, but it angered you. Yes, it hurt you so much and saddened you, yet his death angered you even more than you wanted to admit to yourself. Your resentment was growing and by the time you stepped out of the train, your red eyes were burning from lack of moisture as you had been silently crying on the ride, the sleeves of your black sweatshirt were damp from the furious wiping of tears.

Your mother lived close to the ground in an old beat up hole that couldn’t even be considered a proper apartment. The stench of the piles of garbage in the streets that reached your nostrils made your expression slightly morph into one of disgust, it reminded you why you couldn’t wait to get away from her when you were barely a teen. You entered the lobby and looked around, the sign on the elevator warned that is was broken as usual, leaving you not even in the least surprised as you headed for the stairs, it was only two floors anyway.

Once you reached the floor you walked down one of the hallways, you could hear muffled voices and music as you walked past some doors; never mind the hour, majority of Neo Citizens almost never slept especially in the lowlife parts of the city. You halted your steps in front of your mother’s door, wavering in your movements only when you pondered how to announce your presence.

You glanced at the lock-pad by the door and decided to try your thumbprint, but the scanner beeped and flashed red. Inhaling a breath to steady yourself, you decided to clean the surface with your sleeve and even rubbed your thumb against the material of your pants and tried again. When that failed you banged your fist on the door; you couldn’t blame her for deleting your print from the system yet it stung you in the chest just a little.

"Who is the fuck is it?” You heard her grumble on the other side of the door after you banged your fist on the hard surface.

“It’s me, open up,” you replied loud and clear. You waited for a whole minute for her to open but as you couldn’t hear anymore sounds from inside, you grew impatient of her behavior and reached for your holopad inside the pocket of your pants. The device lit up with a logo of your NCT unit on the screen, then hovered it on top of the lock-pad to see a loading circle appear. Was is illegal to hack someone’s lock-pad and enter their home? Yes. Did you care? Not right now.

A series of codes, numbers and letter loaded after a few minutes, considering the cheap quality of the lock-pad it wasn’t hard to bypass with a bare minimum of coding knowledge, and just as you finished tapping your thumbs on your device, the lock beeped and the door opened. You stepped inside of the room and closed the door behind you, the only source of light helping you see came from neon signs from the building across the street.

“I don’t recall telling you that you could come inside,” she said from somewhere inside of the living area that was also a bedroom. She took a swing from her bottle of liquor and spun her wrinkled face around towards you, she appeared way older than she actually was. You could only make out the silhouette of her body as she was facing away from the light, but she could see your stoic expression, the curves of your lineaments painted by pink and blue neons almost made her smile. Almost, she scoffed instead as your face reminded her of somebody she could never forget.

She heard you sigh as you reached out to tap the wall on your right, looking for the light switch. As soon as you found it, you flipped it up, illuminating your surroundings. Everything was littered with empty bottles of booze, empty containers of instant meals and other trash. “I see nothing’s changed.” A monotone voice left your lips as you readjusted your stance, shifting from one foot to the other and crossed your arms in front of you. “I thought you quit drinking.”

“No calls,” your mother spat out after downing the remaining liquid in the bottle she had been holding in her hands, “no messages…” She stood up from the edge of her unmade bed and stepped closer to you. “There was no reason to keep paying for a second thumbprint in the security system since you barely visit nowadays.”

The pungent scent of alcohol from her mouth reached your nose as she spoke, it made you uncomfortable yet you took a moment to look at her, see the state that she was in. Her hair had seen better days and the dark circles around her eyes emphasized her lack of sleep, meanwhile her clothing was so worn out she could’ve used something new to keep herself warm in that cold and crappy apartment. “I’m not here to talk about our broken mother-daughter relationship,” you told her, licking your lips to give them some moisture as you took another look around the place you once called home. “I need to talk about dad.”

“Hah,” she snickered with her hand in front of her mouth, “your dad? He doesn’t love you! Had he cared about us, we wouldn’t be on Neo Zone in the first place.” She lowered the empty bottle that she had been holding all that time on the floor by the foot of the bed, where other empty bottles sat and she headed towards a mini-fridge to grab another bottle. You could feel your breathing pick up in anger and frustration, she was never one to listen, always first to jab her knife-sharp words into your guts instead of having a normal conversation. “For all I care he could die.”

That was the harsh blow that made you burst like a bomb, out of pure rage you reached for the stupid bottle of beer she’d been holding and flung it across the room. It smashed on the wall as you began screaming at the top of your lungs. “He’s dead! Are you happy now? Is your life better without him, hm?” All she could do out of shock was gape at you. “You were so jealous and blinded that you couldn’t see past your own feelings and you couldn’t accept the love he had for his job! Do you see the shithole that you live in?!” You gestured at all the trash littering the room, your vocal cords hurting from the strain and your eyes started burning again as tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. “Not only did you decide to ruin his life when you ran away, but you ruined mine as well. And now…” Your screaming slowly subsided, letting out a humorless laugh as you brushed your fingers through your hair in an attempt to regain the tiniest bit of control. “The only parent that cared about me is gone…”

“Get out.” She whispered with a quiver in her voice. “You have no right to talk to me like that. I don’t want to see your ungrateful face ever again.”

“Ungrateful.” You repeated the word she called you with, and continued talking much calmer than before. “I’m the one paying for your bills. Do you know where that money comes from?” No, she had no idea… She thought you made money from working as a waitress in the high-end clubs in the richest part of Neo City. You always looked older for your age when you were in your teens, it was only a matter of time before you were forced to abandon your education and found countless illegal waitering jobs, yet the money was never enough and she ended up squandering it all. “You know, I saw a poster one day… Neo Zone’s Galaxy Defense Council was recruiting young people for their NCT program.”

Her eyes widened at the realization, she was afraid to hear the rest as she began shaking her head in disbelief. “You didn’t…” The very thing she hated the most was he ex-husband’s job as a soldier on Exo Planet, she knew he brought you in for training when you were a child and she was strongly against it, as she didn’t want to see you grow up to be like him.

You nodded without hesitation. “Yes, I had training and you needed the money to get wasted every day of your sad life, so I joined the special forces to become an agent.” You inhaled a long breath as you lowered your head to the ground with your eyes closed. “Like it or not, you need to start looking for a job and pay for your bills yourself.“ You turned around to leave, but before you closed the door after you, you looked at her one last time. “I’m tired of being your ungrateful child.” With that, you headed straight towards the stairs and down to the lobby. Once you were out in the street under the rain that had just begun pouring again, there was Johnny leaning against his yellow motorcycle and waiting for you. “I can’t believe you’re still driving that thing that almost got you killed.”

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?” Johnny quipped as he pushed himself off the vehicle and drew you in an embrace, softly speaking in your ear. “I tracked you down as soon as I heard the news, I didn’t want you to be alone…”

For a moment you felt like saying something about how you were alright and maybe push him away, but a small part of you made you wrap your arms around his back as you buried your face in his chest. As the rain’s force picked up, you let out muffled sobs and Johnny understood that you didn’t need to talk about it, all you needed was comfort.

-> Damaged Masterlist

─ Chapter 2

[ao3bronte]

Mamma Mia AU [Part 6]

READ PART 5 HERE!

Take A Chance On Me

Six months later...

Never in her wildest dreams did Marinette expect to be sitting where she is now, dressed to the nines in one of her own highly sought after designs. Having just released her very first collection, M by MarinetteDesigns, at the beginning of December, all of her custom made prêt-à-porter fashions were flying off the racks. She’d even had to hire another seamstress just to get through the backlog of formal wear commissions that she’d received ever since Alya’s BuzzFeed friends set up her social media accounts and started repping her brand all over their articles and personal posts.

But more on that later.

At the moment, Marinette is sitting at a huge, zigzag communal table under the glassed-in rooftop patio on top of a boutique hotel in Le Marais, clapping her hands and cheering as the two people she never thought she’d see together emerge from behind closed doors hand in hand. Jagged Stone performs an epic guitar solo from the platform as Luka picks up his new bride and spins her around, grinning like a maniac.

The wedding itself is a completely bombastic affair with celebrities and the like sneaking here and there to avoid the paparazzi. Marinette feels like a kid in a candy store as Luka’s guests file in left and right, most of them artists and bands she loves to listen to. And his bride, of course, doesn’t have much of her family along for the wedding. The media backlash from her mother’s empire had been outlandish, especially in Japan, but she’d ended up fitting right in with most of Luka’s ragtag group of friends in Los Angeles. With the help of her new husband and their support circle, she’d risen above the controversy and won the Olympic gold medal in fencing, bringing honour to herself for the first time in her life.

Sporting a gorgeous red rose tattoo on her upper arm, Kagami Tsuguri Couffaine turns around and gives everyone that trademark smirk of hers, welcoming them to their reception. Luka can’t keep his hands off of her, his eyes practically bulging out of his skull when she plunks her leg up onto the chair she’s supposed to be sitting on and demands he take her garter off with his teeth. The partygoers roar as Luka does just that, emerging victorious with a red and navy strap of fabric hanging from his canines.

Satisfied with his performance, Kagami calls all of the single and unmarried ladies attending her wedding to the platform and waves her rose and orchid bouquet over her head for the traditional toss. Hoping to avoid the pitying glances, Marinette pretends to be completely consumed by her emails and ducks her head in the hopes that no one will notice her. She would have been successful too, had it not been for the exchange of raised eyebrows and playful glances between the bride, the groom and a few other savant attendees.

“One, two, three!” Kagami cries, launching her bouquet into the air. Like a missile locked on a target, it somersaults right over everyone’s heads and thwacks an unassuming Marinette straight in the face, knocking her right off her chair.

“Oh my god, Marinette!” Alya squeals, laughing as her best friend spits petals from her lips. Everyone is cheering as Marinette slowly stands up and waves the bouquet above her head, blushing with embarrassment.

“I don’t even have a boyfriend,” she shakes her head, still smiling despite not having a plus one by her side. She’s long accepted the fact that she’s going to be on her own for good and surprisingly, she feels better for it. Acceptance is the first step, after all, and Marinette has been going to so many weddings lately as an honoured guest for designing the wedding and bridesmaids dresses that the blank space at her side hardly bothers her any longer. She’s even started working on tuxedos!

Way, way down the table, Marinette tries to ignore the ghost from her past crowding the open bar with Nino and the rest of the boys. She’d said hello politely but otherwise avoided him, if only to keep a tamper on her feelings; even though her love has long withered down to smothered embers, Marinette wants to be careful to avoid the winds of change that would flare those feelings in her soul.

The food at Luka and Kagami’s wedding is fantastic and the music is even more so. After the first course, Luka invites everyone up to form a mosh pit as Jagged plays a brand new track off his upcoming album and Marinette is absolutely thrilled to bop around, screaming at the top of her lungs with her hands in the air. She’s as free as a bird and the gorgeous, rock star inspired dress she has on leaves little to the imagination as she sways and shakes to the music. Alya catches it all on TikTok, much to Marinette’s chagrin, and captions it: ‘What a catch! 🎣 How is my girl still single?!’

After, everyone takes a breather and sits back down at the table, its decorated surface filled to the brim with food served family style on colourful, mismatched platters. Marinette loves the boho aesthetic of the different multi-hued plates and napkins, the discordant textures and silverware already inspiring another collection for her fashion line. She digs into the huge heaping of pasta that Alya had plopped onto her plate and laughs along with her girlfriends as they eat the night away under the Parisian lights.

As the main course is being cleared from their tables, the wedding band begins to play and couples slowly but surely leave their tables for a tour of the dance floor. Alya jokingly offers a ‘samba-à-trois’ with her and Nino but Marinette laughingly declines, prefering to watch and take photos of her friends while they’re enjoying themselves. She’s got a knack for capturing the perfect shot and Marinette is just about to turn back towards her table to edit them when someone calls her name.

“Marinette!”

No matter how many months and years pass between them, he’ll always stop her in her tracks.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Adrien compliments her breathlessly, a sheen of sweat on his brow. He’s been dancing with the boys, hauling them up in the air on his shoulders as the party throbs around them, “I mean—you look beautiful always! It’s just—uh, tonight you look...especially beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Marinette responds, desperately trying to keep her voice even. She can’t help but transpose the black mask over his features as he runs his fingers through his messy hair, his cheeks flushed from exertion, “You look...handsome yourself.”

“Th-thank you!” he stutters, looking strangely unkempt for someone who always seems to have it together, “I just—um. Do you want to dance with me?”

He offers her his hand and she stares at it, the technicolour lights casting shadows on his upturned palm, “I...thank you for...um, offering but—”

“Please,” he beseeches her, his eyes blown wide, “I’ve missed you.”

Marinette gulps, her throat tightening against the emotions rekindling in her chest, “I’m…”

“Just one,” he says, taking a small, tentative step towards her, “And if you...if you don’t want to see me again after, I can do that.”

Her heart clenches. Tikki punches her thigh through her skirt.

“Just one,” she says eventually, placing her hand gently overtop of his. He grasps her like their lives depend on it and Marinette is suddenly thrust back to the days where their entwined fingers meant the difference between defeat and victory. He slumps with relief and pulls her towards his chest, resting his other hand on the small of her back.

And they dance.

Her heartbeat skips with every step as they sway to the music, lost in their own private orbit of things left unsaid. Adrien can’t keep his eyes away and she can hardly catch his gaze without burning up, finding it far easier to stare at the knot of his loosened tie. Somehow, they drift closer and closer until his lips are a hair’s breadth away from the crown of her head and Marinette can feel the warmth of his body coming off of him in waves, setting her skin on fire.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he whispers, his words barely there, “When I left after the wedding...I knew it was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made and I’d do anything to take it back.”

Marinette trips a little, stumbling into his chest, “Adrien—”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you everything but Alya told me you blocked me and I...I wanted to respect that. So I’ve been waiting six months to tell you what I should have told you all those years ago,” Adrien’s voice wavers,  “I’ve loved you since the day we first fought together. The problem was, at eighteen, I thought I loved the idea of freedom more.”

“I was wrong, though. I was so, so wrong and I’ve spent the last four years of my life regretting every second. I’ve transferred to TU Delft to finish off my graduate degree so I can be closer to home. I want to come back on the weekends to fight by your side again and repair our relationship, but only if you want to. I just...I know I’ve been an awful partner and an even more awful friend so I totally understand if you never want to see me again but...I thought I would just try.”

Marinette swallows, fighting the tears that prickle at the corners of her eyes, “I’m sorry, Adrien. But I...thank you for the apology.”

He makes no move to let go and neither does she, “It’s...it’s okay. You’ve been doing so well on your own. I just want to be closer though, in case something happens. The Netherlands is only a few hours away by bus.”

The music slowly wanes and Marinette steps back, averting her gaze, “I guess it’s time for dessert.”

Adrien swallows, loosening his tie further, “Right. I...um, I’ll talk to you later?”

“Sure,” she says, finally glancing back up at him. He looks wrecked, for lack of a better word, “Maybe you can tell me how your studies are going?”

“Oh!” Adrien’s expression immediately brightens, his smile near blinding, “Yes! I’ll tell you anything! Everything! After dessert! We can talk!”

Marinette can’t help but smile a little, his fumbling antics so unlike the Adrien she knows. He’s unmasked in front of her, the Chat Noir she has always known and loved, “Nino’s waving at you.”

She points over his shoulder and Adrien turns, catching a glimpse of Nino, Luka and about ten other guys all hooting and giving him questioning thumbs up. He smiles and gives them an enthusiastic nod in return before turning back to Marinette, “I’ll find you after dessert, okay?”

“Okay,” she agrees, watching him scamper off towards his friends. Alya is on her not a second later, her arm draped around her shoulders as they walk back to their seats.

“Well? How did it go?”

Marinette shrugs, “We danced and I asked him about his studies.”

Alya skids to a stop in her tracks, “That’s it?”

“Well, he said he was sorry too,” she says, walking out from under Alya’s arm as she continues walking, “And then the song ended and we’re going to talk about his classes after.”

“I swear to god, that idiot!” Alya stomps her foot and storms away towards her husband and the rest of the boys.

~

The cake is cut, the lights are low and the party is about to truly kick into high gear. The wedding band is replaced by one of Los Angeles' best DJs and Marinette stays out of the fray for the time being, taking a break from the action. She’s responding to commision requests when the song that had just been playing slowly dwindles and the crowd starts to scream.

“Speech!” a familiar voice cries and Marinette’s head yanks towards its source so quickly it cracks, “I'm gonna make a speech, everybody!”

Standing on the wedding platform with his tie nowhere to be found, Adrien raises his glass of champagne in one hand and holds the microphone to his lips in the other, “First of all, I just want to make a big shout out to the bride and groom for hosting an amazing party! Santé!”

The crowd cheers and drinks with him, buzzing seemingly with anticipation. An electric current tingles down the length of her neck as something tells her that everyone clearly knows something she doesn’t.

“And secondly, I want to thank my friends for helping me try and win back the love of my life. Hey, Marinette! I’m still free! Take a chance on me!”

Hoisted from the platform to the dinner tables, Adrien begins to strut as if on a catwalk, "To the most beautiful, talented woman in the world! I'm gonna do my very best to get you back, if you let me try. I wanna be the first in line to your heart."

The entire party cheers him on. Jagged Stone plays the opening chords to the wedding march on his electric guitar.

"I know I kind of screwed up,” he averts his eyes for a moment, his cheeks burning as her jaw clunks to the floor, “But if you change your mind and need me, just let me know. I’m going to be around more often and...well, put me to the test. I won’t disappoint you ever again. I’m all yours.”

He pauses in front of her, microphone still in hand, “We could go dancing or go for a walk or anything, really. Just as long as we do it together. You’ve got to know how much I want to win you back and...and when I close my eyes at night and dream, I’m always dreaming about you! You have to know that I...I can’t let go of you. Of us. Of what I left behind.”

“Please Marinette,” he reaches out to her just like he had earlier, his palm raised and at the ready. Marinette feels like dying and flying all at once.

Her heart pounding, Marinette takes a shaky breath and raises her hand only to hesitate, her fingers curling with indecision. Her mind is racing and fuzzy and between the wolf whistles and the intensity of Adrien’s gaze, Marinette finds herself feeling something in her chest she hasn’t felt in four long years.

“What do you say, M’Lady?” Adrien smiles with a hopeful shrug, “Will you take a chance on me?”

“I…” she trails off and somehow, her arm is moving on its own accord. Should she listen to her mind and turn him down? Or should she listen to her heart and find love once more in the arms of the man she’s loved for years and years and years.

Well, there’s only one choice here, isn’t there?

“Yes,” she whispers, a sweet benediction, “Yes!”

Clasping his hand, Adrien hauls her up with supernatural strength onto the table and tosses the microphone into the crowd. There’s a horrible feedback noise as Nino catches it against his tuxedo but nothing matters anymore except the smile on his face and the joy in her eyes as he wraps his arms around her waist and presses her flush to his body, “Why did I ever let you go?”

“Because you were an idiot,” Marinette responds and Adrien throws his head back and laughs. Here I go again, she thinks as she soaks in his contagious joy as the crowd screams around them. How could she resist him, especially after a confession like that?

“Can I kiss you?”

Marinette inhales sharply, “How could I resist?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Of course it is, you silly cat.”

Adrien bends down and presses his lips against hers just as the fireworks ignite in the background, bathing the glassed-in rooftop deck in hues of vibrant reds and golds. Marinette gasps as he runs his tongue along her bottom lip and she pulls him ever nearer, basking in his warmth as she grabs handfuls of his hair. She devours him longingly as he explores her body with his roaming fingertips and Marinette feels the dam of her desire breaking, overflowing with desperate, relentless love.

“I’m never going to let you go ever again," Adrien murmurs against her lips before diving back in and kissing her again, grabbing her by the hip. She feels delirious and suddenly they’re both smiling, giggling like school children because finally, finally ! They could be together! No matter what, four years or twenty, no span of time can truly keep apart true love.

READ PART 7 HERE!

[chancellormatt]

Voltron Rewrite Episode Nineteen - The Singularity of War

    (Warning...this thing is a monster. Seriously, I really got carried away here. If you’re planning on reading this in one go make sure you’re comfortable first, because this is the big boy. Enjoy.)

    The blazing light of explosions flashes across Coran’s face. He stares out at the carnage spread out across the Castle of Lion’s viewport. The forces of the Coalition and the Black Paladins tear into each other, energy blasters and ion cannons causing untold destruction. But his gaze looks past all of that, to lock onto the form of Voltron approaching that of Darktron and Sincline. He strokes his mustache nervously. 

    “Coran?” 

    He is shaken from his study of the monitor and turns to find Romelle standing on the bridge behind him.

    “The Castle is in full combat configuration.” She reports.

    “Ah yes. Very good. Very good…” His gaze shifts back out to the starfield, where the forces of Zarkon and the Coalition smash into one another. He sees a team of Garrison fighters swoop along the side of a Galra cruiser and unleash a payload of energy-bombs that cripple the enemy ship.

    “You wish to be in the thick of it?” She ventures.

    “Yes. This has been my battle for a long time and it pains me not to be backing up the Princes and other paladins. Also...if I’m being honest, I’d really like to show these galra what for one last time. But…” He looks back to the alteans manning stations around the bridge. 

    “...Princess Allura left all of you in my charge. And risking the Castle unnecessarily will help no one. So we will hang back and fire from afar. We will not directly engage until we are needed.

    “And if we are called upon?”

    “well...we’ll just have to show them just what the ship my grandfather designed can really do with a full crew of alteans.”

    Romelle smiles. “Aye aye, Captain.”

    He returns the smile, then turns back to the viewport. Voltron and Sincline finally meet Darktron in a blaze of brilliant light.

    “I leave all my hopes with you, Paladins.” He says in a voice just above a whisper. “Finish this.”

***

    Voltron swings, tearing a blue streak through space. Darktron blocks, blade crackling with violet lightning. Sincline thrusts, blade a blur of purple light. Darktron parries and ripostes, knocking the other mecha back. The three mechas strike at each other,  blades are a storm of glowing blurs, faster than the eye can keep up. 

A powerful clash knocks all backwards. Darktron pulls back, quintessence burning down the blade. It lowers the blade towards them in silent challenge. Sincline makes to move forward.

    “Wait,” Keith starts to say,  “we should pull back and try to-”

    “You don’t scare me, Zarkon!” Sincline Lotor bellows, charging towards the other mecha. Keith curses, and Voltron bursts forward to join Sincline.

Darktron, Sincline and Voltron swing their blades at the same time. When the blades meet a wave of energy explodes outward. The force of the blow flings both Voltron and Sincline tumbling backwards through space.

    Darktron did not give an inch from the blast.

    Jets of energy erupt from Darktron’s wings, thrusting it after the two tumbling mechas. It goes after Voltron, the closer target.

    Voltron’s shield is thrown up at the last second, but Darkon’s swing is powerful enough to the breach the shield, sending two halves spinning.

    Sincline appears behind Darktron, twin swords raised to it's exposed back.

    Darktron doesn’t even turn to raise it's sword overhead and block both of Sincline’s blades. It reaches the other hand behind to blast Sincline in the chest. As Sincline spins away, Voltron swings for Darktron’s head. But Darkton deflects with it's sword then tosses Voltron behind it to crash into Sincline.

    “Get out of my way!” Lotor snarls, shoving Voltron aside.

    He charges at Darktron again, curved swords spinning. Before he can reach the other mecha, Darktron's shoulder cannon materializes and fires. The wave of raw energy hits Sincline like a train. It rockets backwards to smash through a galra cruiser. The cruiser explodes into pieces, while Sincline continues to tumble backwards.

    Darktron turns on Voltron. Lance, Pidge, Hunk and Allura get uneasy expressions. 

    “...it's alright to be afraid.” Keith says in a low voice. “They’re incredibly strong. We’ve all seen it. But we’re also not the same people we were the last time we fought them. We’re stronger together now. Not just on our own, but as a team too. This isn’t going to end the same way as last time.”

    The uncertainty leaves the other paladin’s faces, replaced by resolve.

    Darktron bursts into motion.

    “Here we go…” Keith takes a breath. “...form shield!”

    Voltron’s shield reforms a moment before Darktron’s sword strikes. Violet energy blazes against brilliant blue. 

    “Is that all you can muster?” Prince Lotor of Darktron says, sword beginning to blaze brighter. Pidge grits her teeth, the shield wavering, on the point of breaking once again.

    But then, Lance, Hunk and Allura’s bayard ports slide open. They allow only a moment of surprise before slamming each of their bayards into place.

    The shield, on the verge of splitting, suddenly blazes, multiplying several times its former size. Darktron’s sword is repelled, hurling the mecha back in a flash of lapis light. 

    Darktron rights itself after a moment, and all is still.

    “...so,” Zarkon finally says, “you are not quite as pathetic as you used to be. You’ve acquired strength from resolve. Good. But how is your finesse?”

    Darktron’s dual swords materialize. 

    Inside Voltron the bayard ports of the red and green lions pop open.

    Lance smirks. “I dunno, how are we doing with finesse?”

    Pidge lets out a sigh. “Well, until recently I thought we were doing an excellent job with subtlety.”

    “Subtlety is overrated.”

    “You would say that.” But she returns the smile.

    Both slam their bayards into place. Voltron’s dual blades shimmer into existence.

    Darktron swings for Voltron’s neck first. Pidge blocks, straining against the other blade. Lance parry’s the next attack, and counters with a thrust for Darktron’s gut. Darktron twists, blade sparking off it's side. Darktron replies with a kick, but Lance and Pidge cross their blades, blocking the strike. However it gives Darktron a chance to throw a quick jab for Voltron’s chest with one blade, followed by a second with the other. The first is completely deflected but the second grazes the green arm.

    The two mechas fall into a back and forth, blades striking against one another in clashes of blinding light. 

    “You’re keeping up! Impressive! But for how long!?” Zarkon taunts, blades moving so fast they’re barely visible.

    Keith grits his teeth. “I think-”

    “Zarkon!” Sincline Lotor bellows. “I found something of yours!”

    Both turn just in time for a galra cruiser to smash into them. The front of the ship crumples as they are buried in it's innards. 

    A burst of energy from Darktron obliterates the entire cruiser, sending Voltron flying out of the wreckage.

    As soon as Darktron is freed, Sincline, hovering above, unleashes it's chest beam. Darktron’s shoulder cannon appears, firing at the same time. 

    The two beams collide, bleeding off waves of energy that vaporize any of the fightership unlucky enough to be nearby. The cockpits of the respective mechas tremor under the enormous pressure. Lotor throws his levers as far as they will go, intensity of the beam growing in response. 

    Darktron’’s beam inches backwards, starting to be overwhelmed by that of Sincline.

    Zarkon only grins. “You have an impressive machine. It has only one flaw…”

    Paladin Lotor, Honerva and Raimon slam their bayards into place.

    “...it's not Voltron.”

    Darktron’s blast engulfs Sincline’s blasting it away. But Darktron doesn’t leave it there. The harpoon gun materializes and fires after Sincline, spearing the other mecha. Darktron pivots, swinging the tethered Sincline to crash into the recovering Voltron.

    They’re flung backwards, smashing through an errant asteroid, pulverizing it. 

    Sincline shakes off the damage, and moves to charge Darktron again. His arm is caught by Voltron’s grip. 

    “Stop.” Keith commands.

    “I don’t take orders from you! Now get out of my way!”

    “You’re being an idiot, Lotor! I know you want to take down Zarkon, but has it really been so long since you’ve had to work with a team?”

    “I don’t need help! I’ve never needed help.”

    “Do you want to get yourself killed!?”

    He doesn’t reply.

    “...are you trying to get yourself killed?” Allura is the one to ask this time.

    Still he remains silent. Darktron advances on them.

    “...I want to kill Zarkon, no matter the cost.”

    “Then help us do that.” Keith says, “By working with us.”

    Darktron gets closer.

    Inside the cockpit of Sincline, Lotor closes his eyes and squeezes his throttles. He lets out a breath and opens his eyes back up. Darktron is nearly upon them, sword pulled back.

    “If you have a plan…then take the lead.”

    Keith quirks the faintest of smiles. 

“Spilt!”

    The two mechas dash in opposite directions, Darktron’s sword slashing through the empty space. 

    “We’ll constrict their movement, you go in close!” Keith declares.

    Voltron’s cannon appears, erupting in it's spray-fire mode. Dozens of destructive motes of light spray after Darktron. The mecha’s boosters burn into overdrive as it spins away from the energy motes. The motes follow, blue lines trailing after fleeing mecha. Darktron zigzags, losing some of the motes into the faces of asteroids, and others into the sides of galra cruisers. Sincline blocks it's path, blades spinning. Darktron simply forces Sincline back with a blast from one of its hands and changes direction again, motes still following. The chase takes Darktron towards one of the planets orbiting the nearest star. It loses more of the motes by leading them into the side of one of the planet’s moons. 

    Sincline cuts off Darktron’s path again, ducking the hand-blast this time and going in for the kill. Darktron deflects the twin blades with it's sword, while using it's free hand to activate it's shield and block the remaining motes. The shield endurs the rainfall of energy against it, but a moment later a secondary impact hits the shield.

    Voltron’s harpoon. Voltron jerks the tethered Darktron to the side, opening its defenses wide. Sincline swings again, and this time the swords strike true. 

    A flash of violet light burns when the blades with Darktron’s chest.

    Darktron plummets down into the surface of the moon below. It's crash creates a crater, massive chunks of rock flying upwards. 

    “Now! Hit ‘em with everything you've got!” Keith yells.

    Sincline charges up it's chest beam while Voltron materializes it's arm cannons. Both let loose on Darktron below. 

    The beams of energy collide with Darktron, washing over it. More chunks of rock and debris fly up as Darktron is driven deeper. The crater widens, cracking a significant portion of the moon’s surface. Then, the stone around Darktron begins to glow. It melts under the constant heat and pressure from the waterfall of pure energy, swallowing up Darktron. Molten rock bubbles up, spraying droplets across the surface. Still, they keep firing. 

    Finally, the two mechas let up, spent.

    The Paladins and Lotor struggle to catch their breaths.

    “Did...we get...them…?” Lance pants out.

    “I’m not-” Keith starts to say before he is cut off.

    “You children…” Zarkon says, “...deserve commendation. I hate every single one of you and will enjoy ripping your bodies out of your lions, and your organs out of your bodies, and then putting them on display for the whole universe to see. But you have forced me into a corner, and for that you have my highest praise. Supremely stupid and futuile as it was, you have graduated yourselves from a minor nuisance to a wrench in my plans. So congratulations…”

    Under the lava there is a burst of violet light. Then a massive form begins to move under the surface. 

    “...you will get the honor of dying as few others have.”

    Darktron, in it's massive armored form rises out of the pool of lava, molten rock dripping off it's armor. 

    “Well,” Keith says, “Quiznak.”

***

    “So…you think they have a chance?”

    Skriel asks the question from within the Paladin Crusher 2.0, defending from a team of robeasts’ relentless strikes. Matt is dealing with the same from Luca’s robeast. The two mechas fight back to back, surrounded as they are. 

    “A chance? Sure, there’s always a chance.” Matt replies, using the Atlas’ armblade to block one of Luca’s strikes. The swing is deflected but the glowing blade still lands a glancing blow on the Atlas’ armor.

    “Yes, but what precisely would you put the odds at?”

    “Dunno, maybe like thirty percent?”

    “THIRTY PERCENT!?”

    Matt smirks as Luca drives forward to press the attack. She knocks aside the armblade and thrusts for the gut of the Atlas. She isn’t prepared for the second blade that slides out of the Atlas’s other arm. The bladed spear is turned away and before Luca can pull back she receives a glancing blow on her robeast’s arm. A match for the one she left on the Atlas.

    “Yep. About thirty percent. But I’ll tell you what, if it was only one percent, or even one tenth of a percent, I’d still bet on my sister and her friends. Because they’ve been beating long odds ever since they stepped in those lions. None of us would be here right now if that wasn’t true.”

    “Well, I guess I can agree with that, human.” 

The Paladin Crusher catches one robeasts’ blades along the haft of it's axe, but is driven backwards by it's twin, bumping against the back of the Atlas.

“You need a hand there?” Matt asks.

“We most certainly do not!” Skriel declares. “I think it's time to show these whelps what the Crusher 2.0 can really do! Mutava?”

    “Yes, this battle is getting a little too close for my tastes.” The other galra replies, throwing a lever from within his cockpit.

    The Paladin Crusher’s head splits open, a large barrel poking out from within. It fires, violet beam melting through the head of one robeast. Armor breached, the pilot is thrown free of the broken mecha. The second robeast pulls back, spinning it's spear to deflect the head-beam’s second shot. 

    “Ublok!”

    “I’ve got him.” The large galra grunts, throwing a lever of his own.

    The Paladin Crusher raises an arm and it's fist fires off the arm, propelled by a jet of purple flame. The robeast keeps it's spinning spear up to block the projectile, but the fist diverts downward, slipping under the makeshift shield, then tilts back up to smash the robeast in the chest. The robeast is flung backwards but the fist isn’t done. It grabs a hold of the robeast’s head and rockets in reverse, jerking it back towards the waiting axe of the Paladin Crusher. The robeast is sliced clean in half, systems going dead as the pilot rockets free.

    “Ohoho! That’s what you get for trying to challenge Skriel the Great and his Mighty Lackies!” 

    “Mighty Lackies?” Erva says with disdain.

    “Yes, feel free to be honored by the title.”

    “You little...oh forget it.” She sighs. 

    “I’m glad you’re having so much fun over there, but do you mind giving us a hand?” Matt asks, trying to defend not just from Luca, but two other robeasts flanking her. And more are on their way to the skirmish.

    “Certainly! It's time to show just how superior the Paladin Crusher is to your silly earth machine!

    “...Huhuhu. Paladin Crusher you say?”

    The four galra warlords freeze at the sound of the new voice over the comms. 

    “...a bit gaudy, but that always was your style, Skriel.”

    “That voice…” Skriel says.

    Across from them the galra formations split, opening a rift in their previously tight lines. Through that rift comes a massive galra ship that dwarfs those around it. Its armor is pitch black, broken only by thin lines of glowing purple running up and down it's length. 

“Human, I’m afraid you’re going to have to deal with these robeasts on your own.” Skriel says in a low voice. He and Erva throw their levers, axe splitting into two hatchets.

    “What? Why?”

    “That ship headed towards us is commanded by Ru’vak the Unbroken.”

    “Who the heck is that!?”

    “He is considered one of, if not the greatest Galra Commander in the entire Empire. His title comes from the fact that in his entire career, he has never once lost a battle.”

    “How come I’ve never heard of him?”

    “He was sent into exile before The Voltron Coalition’s war with the Empire began. No official reason was ever given for his reassignment. However, the rumor was that Zarkon grew...uncomfortable with how respected Ru’vak was in the fleet.”

    “An unfounded worry,” The voice, Ru’vak, says. “I am and always have been loyal to the Empire. Unlike you scum. Honestly, I thought I taught the four of you better.”

    Skriel sighs. “He’s also the man that trained us…”

    The ship begins to glow and split apart.

    “Oh.” Matt says.

    Metal plates separate, revealing joints and limbs. It all pulls apart and comes back together in a bulky humanoid in shape, and even larger than the Paladin Crusher. In one hand it holds a large round shield with a serrated edge. In its other, a great hammer. The pitch black armor creates the visual effect of there being a silhouetted emptiness in the space before them. The only source of light on it is a single blazing violet eye at the center of its head.

    “This is Ru’vak, tell the reserves to jump in now behind the invading forces. We have the other mecha-class vehicles engaged, their forces should not be able to avoid being encircled.”

    The dark armored mecha spins its hammer in one hand. 

    “Now, let us see how your Paladin Crusher fares against my World Bane.”

    ***

    Coran watches the enemy’s reserve force jump in behind the Coalition ships. In seconds the enemy galra ships spread out, locking in the Coalition back line. Enemies in front, enemies behind. Nowhere to run. 

    “We’re between a hammer and an anvil!” Ryner cries over the radio.

    “Not if we’ve got anything to say about it!” Coran declares.

    He turns to Romelle, a slight grin on his face.

    “Arm the Castle’s primary weapon. It seems the battle has come to us.”

    She nods quickly before letting her fingers fly across the console in front of her.

    “Weapons ready!” She says as a cloud of galra fighters begin their assault on the Coalition ships. 

    “Well then let’s see how those dastardly galra like a mouthful of this!” Coran shouts, slamming his fist into the console. Energy crackles throughout the ship, surging to its zenith at the tip of the castle’s primary tower.

    A beam of pure energy tears across space, ripping a line through the cloud of fighters. Explosions in the form of bright orange orbs appear anywhere the beam meets an enemy ship. 

    “Multiple direct hits! Enemy fighters scattering!” Romelle reports.

     “Excellent! Now let’s see about engaging those cruisers!” He turns to Vatta who mans another console. “Prime the barrier.”

    Vatta nodded, doing as he says.

    Coran sends the Castle forward, another beam firing. It takes a galra cruiser in the side, cracking the armoran eliciting an explosion, but not a fatal one. The cruiser, along with several of it's companions turn and fire back at the Castle.

    A series of violet beams slam into the Castle’s particle barrier. The Castle shakes but remains unharmed.

    “Status?” Coran asks. 

    “Barrier holding, but I’d avoid getting shot more than necessary.” Vatta reports.

    “This is a battlefield.”Coran says, narrowing his eyes. “That may not be possible.”

    “We’ll just have to destroy them first, then.” Romelle remarks.

    “I like the way you think, lass! Let’s give them a little more to chew on!”

    Coran slams his fist into the console again.

***

    Admiral Sanda cruises through the battlefield in her fighter, flanked by her wingmates. They dip and dodge through a sea of enemy fighters, tearing a burning swath through their number. 

    They move towards one of the enemy cruisers.    A team of fighters break off, engaging them. 

    “Crab formation.” Sanda says, driving forward to bait the enemy fighters before pulling back, to let her wingmates pull around to catch the fighters in a pincer attack. They blast the enemy fighters to smithereens.

    “Now let’s bomb the crap out of them.”

    They fly over the top of the cruiser, releasing bombs. The magnetically charged capsule lock onto the surface of the cruiser, before detonating their payloads. The fighters drop an explosive trail across the top of the cruiser, weakening it's exterior armor. 

    A Coalition galra cruiser fires it's ion cannon, finishing off the cruiser in a massive explosion.

    “Alright! Sanda says, voice almost nearly a cheer. “Let take on the next-”

    She is cut off, when she and her wingmates are caught in a stray enemy ion blast. One of her wings is clipped, one engine showing warning signs of being damaged. 

    She goes into an uncontrolled spin. Despite this, rather than panic, Sandra cringes. 

    “This is gonna be a bumpy landing…”

***

    A beam of energy erupts from each of the Armored Darktron’s hands. One smashes into Voltron, the other, Sincline. Both mechas are flung backwards, plummeting down to the planet below. Bright orange plasma envelops them as they burn through the planet’s atmosphere.

    Darktron chases after their falling forms, tearing a violet trail through space. It rips it's sword into existence mid-descent. Still in the upper-atmosphere, Darktron swings it's massive blade.

    The shield Voltron throws up may as well not exist. Both halves go flying and the energy from Darktron’s blade slashes against Voltron’s armor. The Paladins scream, threatening to break back to five lions. They hold together. Barely. 

    While Voltron is hurled back to plummet back even faster by the blow, Darktron turns on the other mecha. Sincline crosses both swords to block Darktron’s swing. There is a crackle of blinding light when the blades meet. 

    Sincline is sent spinning, one sword cracked and leaking quintessence. 

    The Paladins and Lotor tremble under tremendous G-forces as the surface races up to meet them. They all make one last effort to pull up their machines before striking the rocky surface.

    Darktron swings again. It doesn’t matter that the mecha is a mile higher in the air than that others. The energy from its blade carries, swinging down in a bright arc to slam into the backs of Voltron and Sincline. They smash into the surface at full-force, sending massive cracks across the stone.

    A moment later, Darktron hits the ground in a crouch, shattering the ground even further. Multiple sun hangs in the sky above, varied in color, casting harsh and uneven light on the scene. Voltron and Sincline both try to rise. Both fail.

    “...there is an old galra tale, about a soldier who wanted to be emperor.” Zarkon begins, “His dream brought him strength in battle. Soon the Soldier was the most famous warrior in the Empire. Finally the Emperor bestowed upon him the title ‘High Commander of Legions.” A position in the Empire second only to the emperor. But the Soldier was not content. He could not live with being the second greatest. So he challenged the Emperor to a duel for his position. The Emperor accepted. Their battle lasted all day,  from sunrise to sunset. Finally, one fell and one remained. The Emperor had prevailed. As he lay there bleeding out, the Soldier asked how, how after rising to the greatest of soldiers, could he still have lost? The Emperor replied, ‘the greatest of soldiers, is still a soldier. The least emperor, still an emperor. Your blade was just a sword. But mine, was the blade of an empire. Soldiers simply die. But emperors live on forever in their empires.’ You see Paladins, you have grown strong. But your strength has reached its ceiling. And all you can do now, is look up.”

    Keith lets out a cough. “N-nice...story. I bet emperors love telling it. Makes ‘em feel safe. I’ve got one for you too: At the end of the game, the king and the pawn go into the same box.” 

    “Perhaps. Kings and pawns, emperors and soldiers all end up in the ground once they die. Except that I have no plans to die. Not now, not ever. When I’m done with you, I will finish what I began so long ago and remake this universe as it should be.  I will ascend beyond any other being before me. And there be nothing, no kingdom or empire and no memory for you to live on through. That children, is what you earn for your struggle.”

    “This fight...isn’t over...yet!” Keith declares.

    The five paladins strain, forcing the prone Voltron up onto all fours. Then, with a great effort, it shakily rises to two feet. 

    “Defiant to the end?”

    “Sure am.”

    “Admirable, if useless. If you’re so eager to see your comrade, that former Paladin...then I’ll send you on your way.”

    Keith’s eyes burn, melting away the pain an exhaustion of a moment before. Not just his, but all the paladin’s eye blaze with anger. 

    “Lotor...you still alive?” Keith asks. 

    “...unfortunately.” His reply comes a moment later.

    “Good. Because we’re about to kill Zarkon, and I didn’t want you to miss that.”

    “Not not if I do first…”

    And with that Sincline is suddenly back to its feet. Darktron turns back and forth between the two mechas. Zarkon lets out a chuckle.

    “Paladins…” Keith says, taking in a breath. “...use everything!” 

Pidge’s arm-cannon materializes and fires. Darktron raises it's sword blocking the blue beam on its edge. Voltron jets forward, Lance activating the sword. Darktron swings its own sword, energy from the blade leaping out in an arc. Keith drives Voltron low, narrowly dodging the slash of energy. The blade of energy continues past to slice off the top of a mountain in the distance, causing an avalanche. Hunk’s shoulder cannon appears. Darkton raises it's shield to block. Allura slams her bayard into place a moment later. They shift the aim of the cannon down at Darktron’s feet and fire. A blast of icy energy erupts from the cannon, freezing Darktron’s legs to the ground.

    On the other side, Sincline lets loose with it's chest beam. Darktron swings it's shield around to block the blast. Voltron seizes on the opportunity, driving forward with it's sword. Before the sword swings, Pidge Hunk and Allura slam their bayards into place, expanding the sword into its greatsword configuration. The Paladins let out a collective battle cry as they swing.

    Darktron deflects with a casual flick of it's sword.

    “Pathetic.” Zarkon says.

    Voltron tears the sword apart into its dual blades, Lance and Pidge swinging in tandem. Darktron easily turns both blades aside. 

    “Useless.” Paladin Lotor chimes in.

    Keith slams his bayard into place, and both swords burst into flame. Darktron swings at the same time as they do. They catch the much larger sword between their two blazing ones. The ground beneath Voltron shatters from the impact. But for a moment they resist being forced back. 

 Sincline drives forward, spinning with both blades outstretched. The blades rattle harmlessly against Darktron’s shield, but the mecha’s bladed tail slips around the guard making for Darktron’s head. 

“Thoughtless.” Honerva remarks.

    Daktron twists, wrenching Voltron’s blades to the side, then slamming it's shield into the mecha as it brings its blade around to deflect Sincline’s tail.

    The impact of the shield sends Voltron crashing back to the ground. Sincline snarls and unleashes a flurry of swings at the larger mecha. 

    Darktron releases the shield, as if completely unconcerned. It deflects blow after blow, easily keeping up with Sincline despite the blinding speed. No matter how close the blade comes to hitting home, it is always turned away. 

    Voltron surges back to its feet, and Allura summons the harpoon gun. 

“I don’t think they seem to understand...” Sendak says as Darktron’s feet rip free of the ice. 

    Allura fires. Sincline swings at the same time, seeing an apparent opening.

    Darktron releases its sword and catches the harpoon with one hand, and the blade of Sincline’s sword with the other. Sincline struggles to drive the blade forward but it doesn’t budge an inch. Allura is likewise unable to reel in the harpoon.

    “...even working together, you will never defeat my Voltron in this form.” Zarkon says.

    And with that the hand holding Sincline’s blade clenches down hard. The already cracked blade shatters into purple shards. Sincline stumbles back, Lotor in its cockpit, shocked.

    Allura, Hunk, Pidge and Lance are equally taken aback. 

Only Keith manages to remain focused. He slams his bayard into place, causing Voltron’s tether and the harpoon at its end to burst into flame. The flame licks up Darktron’s arm, briefly stunning the mecha’s occupants. That fraction of a moment is all they need. Allura reels in the tether, but rather than draw Darktron towards them, she uses it to fling Voltron at it. A moment before they collide with the other mecha Keith yells out an order:

“Hunk, Cannon!”

The shoulder-cannon appears, inches from Darktron’s face. It fires point-blank.

The entire upper-half of Darktron is engulfed in the monumental burst of energy. The light from the pure quintessence meeting Darktron’s armor momentarily blinds all present.

Darktron is forced back a step.

Hunk’s cannon burns until it is completely dry. Finally, spent, Voltron stumbles back, hardly remaining upright.

    Waves of heat radiate off of Darktron. For a moment it, and everything else on the battlefield is still.

    “...a nice try.” Zarktron’s voice says, to the disappointment of all paladins.

    Darktron surges forward, snatching Voltron by the neck and slamming it into the fractured ground.

    “But that wasn’t really a cannon!” Zarkon snarls.

    Sendak slams his bayard into place. A cannon nearly as big as Voltron appears on its shoulder.

    “This is a cannon!”

    “P-pidge!” Keith managed to get out.

    Pidge manages to pull the shield in between the two mechas. 

The Armored Darktron’s cannon erupts.

    The blast of energy that follows is so bright it can be seen by the warring ships out in space. Voltron is blasted straight through the middle of the planet. Through the crust into the burning mantle below. It rips through the core like a stone dropped into the sea. Finally, Voltron is blasted out the other side of the planet, into space beyond. There it shatters into five lions. Each of them, limp and powerless. 

    Back on the planet, Darktron hovers in the air as the cannon is dismissed. Below the mecha, is a hole wider than a galra cruiser and as deep as the planet itself.

Zarkon lets out a satisfied chuckle. 

Sincline launches itself at Darktron’s back, ferocious as a wild animal.

Darktron backhands the other mecha so hard it flies into orbit. Zarkon watchesas its form disappears into space.

“My love, I must tell you, we are nearing our limit in this form. The cannon does use up quite a lot” Honerva informs, “We have perhaps two dobashes, even with no more major expenditures of energy.”

“That is fine. This battle is over.”

Darktron takes to the sky.

***

    Bolts of energy fall across the star-filed like drops of rain. Ships belonging to the Coalition and Dark Paladins alike burn and die. The Castle of Lions takes the brunt of many of these blasts, having earned the attention of a half-a-dozen galra cruisers. 

“Particle barrier down to twenty-percent!” Vatta reports.

    Fighters swarm the Castle, chipping away further at the barrier. 

    “We should pull back!” Romelle says.

    “To where?” Coran replies. “If this backline falls the Coalition formation collapses!” 

    “Fifteen percent!” Vatta updates.

    Coran slams his fist into the console. Another beam flies free, another enemy cruiser destroyed in a ball of plasma. Two more take its place.

    “Ten percent!”

    Coran scans the battlefield. Their allies are held back too far to offer support. The Castle is the primary force staving off the enemy ships attacking their backline. They show no sign of letting up on their assault of the Castle. Coran takes in a breath.

    “Five percent!”

    Coran sets his jaw, fingers flying across the keyboard of his console.     “Attention all alteans onboard!” He yells through the intercom, as periodic small palm-sized pads appear near alteans all over the Castle. “I call upon you in this time of great need! If you wish to contribute to this battle in your own way! If you wish to help fight to free your enslaved brethren! Place a hand on one of these panels and lend us your strength!”

    Across the ship alteans look at the pads, dubious. One does not hesitate even for a moment. Romelle slams her palm down immediately. She nods to Coran with a determined look. He smiles and nods back. One by one, the other alteans start placing their palms down. Finally, Coran places his own palm down. A green button pops up on his console. 

     “Let’s hope you’re the genius you always claimed to be grandpapi!” 

    “We’re down to one-percent!” Vatta reports, shortly after placing her own palm down.

    “I do love dramatic timing!” Coran declares, slamming a hand down on the button.

    The Castle is immediately wreathed in a blinding white light. There is a lull in the fire from the galra ships, uncertain of this new development. Seams appear in the Castle’s armor. It begins to split apart and reform. It's four exterior towers rearrange, and break at the formation of new joints. They become legs, ending in clawed feet. Meanwhile the main tower reforms into a torso. Finally a feline head bursts out of the front of the body, while a spiked tail stretches out from the back. 

    The White Lion lets out a mighty roar.

    “Transformation stabilized!” Romelle reports.

    “This is Dramor in the engine-room. Our output is up three-hundred percent!”

“It worked...” Coran says, looking near on the verge of tears. “My grandfather’s design worked! The White Lion lives!” 

    The enemy ships, recovering from their shock, resume fire. But Coran drives the White Lion into motion, dipping and dodging around the blasts. It opens its mouth and unleashes a blast of blue-white energy that rips a hole clean through one of the galra cruisers. It explodes in a ball of orange flame. 

    A holographic display of weapons appear above Coran’s console. “Let’s try this one…”

    A long bladed knife appears in the jaws of the Lion. It bursts forward, cleaving through the side of another pair of cruisers. Armor ruptured, the cruisers collapse in on themselves before exploding into shards of space-junk.

    “Now then...who’s next!?”

***

    The Atlas trades blows with Luca’s robeast. They clash back and forth before she pulls back and two of her allies trade in. The pair swing their weapons in unison, assaulting the Atlas’ twin-bladed guard, forcing it back. The moment the Atlas pulls back for a counterattack swing, they disengage and Luca dives in to slam a spear into the Atlas’ chest. Immediately it begins its energy drain of the Atlas’ power.

    Another squad of robeasts move towards the group, but they are waved off by Luca.

    “We have this one. Go help restore the Array, that is the priority.”

    “Yes ma’am!” 

    They race off into the distance, where the Array of rings is quickly being repaired by the remaining robeasts. 

Luca continues to drain the Atlas.

    “Stealing our energy, how rude.” Matt says, fingers flying across a projected keypad over the wrist of his control fixture. Alarms blaze across the Atlas’ screens but he ignores them.

    “Sir-” An officer starts to say.

    “Yeah, I’m aware we’re getting our power sucked dry! Isolate the location of the breach and cut it off from our core!” 

    “Yes sir!” 

    The officers work furiously. The spear’s drain cuts out a moment later. Luca scoffs. “You think that’ll stop me!?”    

She splits off the other side of the spear and thrusts it for the Attlas’ head.

    “Nah,” Matt smirks, “Just delaying you long enough to get a leg up!” 

    With that Matt kicks Luca’s robeast in the chest letting it's boosters erupt. The two mechas are hurled in opposite directions from the burst of propulsive energy. 

    The Atlas rights itself, just as the other two robeasts swoop in. They trade turns battering the Atlas with strikes, slipping several sparking cuts past it's guard. Matt is unconcerned at the damage chipping away at their armor.

    “Has that predictive algorithm finished algorithm finished figuring these guys out?”

    “Yes sir!”

    “Then let’s start kicking the crap out of them.”

    Atlas catches the next spear-thrust by the haft, shocking the pilot. Matt heaves, swinging the robeast into it's companion. He then ejects one of the Atlas’ arm blades to sink through one robeast and out the back of the other. Both beasts explode, flinging out pods. 

    Letting out a battle-cry, Luca takes her spear in both hands and swings for the Atlas' head. But with the attack clearly telegraphed by the Atlas’ display, Matt easily dodges the swing. He dodges the next one, and the one after that.

    “How!?” Luca exclaims.

    “With a bit of math.” Matt says, dodging another swing before, snatching hold of Luca’s spear. He twists the weapon, wrenching it free of the robeast’s grip.

    The Atlas levels its arm-blade at the robeast’s chest.

     “With logic and odds, I can predict any move you’re gonna make. You’re done.”

    The shoulders of the robeast slump. Matt sighs.

    “Don’t feel too bad. We’re really just trying to help-”

    Luca’s robeast suddenly burst forward, letting the Atlas’ blade sink into its side. 

    “And what if I just take the hit!?”   

    The blade crackles in the robeast’s side, narrowly missing the core. She is still able to lock the Atlas into a powerful embrace, holding its arms down.

    “Your systems are compromised!” Matt says.

    “Doesn’t matter.” She shoots back.

    The robeast’s chest begins to glow, gathering energy for a blast. Matt can’t help but grin.

    “This girl...has got spunk! You remind me just a little bit of my sister when she’s being stubborn. So while I’m not gonna hold back...I will feel a little bad about this!”

    He swings the Atlas’ head down to smash into the robeast’s. The blow jars Luca in her cockpit, and the embrace loosens. The Altas throws both arms up, breaking the grip entirely, then takes the stolen spear in a two handed grip and swings.

    The blow cracks the robeast’s already breached armor, flinging it backward with bleeding quintessence leaking out in its wake. He raises a gauntlet to fire a finishing blast, one that Luca doesn’t seem capable of dodging.

    Before he can let loose, something slams into the back of the Atlas, sending it spinning forward. 

    “What th-

A battered Paladin Crusher hangs in space, lights quite a bit dimmer than before.

“S...so strong.” Ublok says.

    “And fast.” Mutava adds.

    Matt swallows as a worried clamor rises on the Atla’s bridge.

    The World Bane approaches at a leisurely pace.

    “Oh, I do hope I didn’t break that toy already.” Commander Ru’vak rumbles. “I was just beginning to have some fun. But look, here comes another…”

    Matt narrows his eyes, twirling his claimed spear.

    “Take your best shot, old-timer. This thing isn’t held together by hopes and dreams like the galra’s finest over here.”

    “Hey!” Skriel objects.

    “And I’d say the odds are on our side. I should know. I’m pretty good at math.”

    “Very well, youngster! Show me you best! Make my blood boil with the glory of battle!” Ru’vak says with glee, driving the World Bane forward, shield-first. 

    The Atlas swings the spear, but it scrapes harmlessly against the shield. The World Bane replies by swinging its hammer in an overhead arc. Matt barely dodges out of the way. As the Atlas pulls back, the World Bane twists, swinging its bladed shield. Matt managed to block with the haft of the spear, rotating blade of the shield sending out sparks and shoving the Atlas backwards.

    The World Bane drives forward again, swinging the hammer once more. But this time as the Atlas starts to pull back a jet of energy erupts from the back of the hammer, accelerating its arc to a blinding speed. It smashes down against Atlas's head, cracking the armor.

    The bridge is shaken from the blow. Still Matt drives the Atlas into motion, barely dodging another swing of the bladed shield.

    “Please tell me we’ve got a read on that thing!” Matt yells.

     “Yes sir, I believe we do!”

    “Then throw it up.”

    Immediately a predictive outline of the World Bane’s future attacks appears.

    “Okay…” 

    The Atlas dodges another rocket-hammer swing, then blocks a shield blow. The World Bane pulls back. The Atlas makes an attack for its head, causing the World Band to raise its shield, but it's a feint, instead jamming the spear low under the shield’s guard.

    The spear’s blade rakes against the World Bane’s armor, shoving it back slightly.

    “Impressive.” Ru’vak says.

    Matt grins, moving forward, already dodging a blow that hasn’t even been swung yet. A fist buries itself in the Atlas’ face. The mechas sails back, Matt shocked.

     “Zepta Fo.” Ru’vak says. The World Bane’s fist is outstretched, shield having retracted.

      He drives forward, sinking a knee in the Atlas’ gut. Then takes the hammer in both hands, and swings it down onto the Atlas’ back.

 “He’s switched tactics, adjusting!”    

The Atlas readies itself itself for another attack, predictive outline appearing again. But rather than lead with a fist as it would suggest, The World Bane goes low, swings and let’s go of its hammer, 

“Reyna Sin.” Ru’vak says as the rocket drives the hammer forward to smash into the Atlas’ chest. The Atlas is flung backwards, clipping a Coalition ship. The hammer rockets back into the World Bane’s waiting hand.

“Do you think a commander as experienced as I know only one style of fighting?”   

He swings the hammer into an underhanded grip while pulling the shield back out.

“Vintas mor. Still like your odds, youngster?”

    “Liking them less…”

***

    The five lions of Voltron hang in space, battle raging around them. The paladins are as limp as their lions, not one of them conscious. A nearby explosion pelts the Black Lion with debris, shaking it.

    Keith begins to stir. His eyes flicker open and he winces with pain. With an effort he manages to sit up. 

“...is everyone alright?” 

There is a pause.

“I don’t think I've ever been less alright in my whole life.” Lance says, “But I am alive.”

Keith cracks a pained smile at that. “Allura, Hunk, Pidge?”

“N-not dead yet.” Allura stammers.

Hunk lets out a groan. “...did you have to wake me up?”

“Pidge here...for the good that is.”

Keith tries the throttles of his lion. No response.

    “Can anyone move their lions?”

    He’s met with a chorus of refusals. Keith sighs, but nods as if expecting this.

“Level with us...this fight is over isn’t it?” Lance asks.

Keith hesitates before replying.

“It does look bad…”

The other paladins get sullen looks.   

    “...but I’m not giving up yet. We can’t give up yet. If we do...well then there really is no chance. Our friends are still fighting. We’ve just got to hope they’ll last long enough for us to get our lions back online.”

    “So we can get curb-stomped by Darktron again?”

    “So we can find a way to win.”

    None of the other paladins say anything but they do straighten in their seats and grip their throttles a little tighter.

    “Alright, anyone got any ideas?”

    Everyone is silent for a moment.

    “If...if that armored form is so powerful, why don’t they always use that right from the beginning?” Hunk asks.

    “Pride?” Keith suggests. “Zarkon wanted to beat us on skill alone?”

    “Zarkon is proud but he’s not stupid.” Allura points out, “He wouldn’t put his entire plan at risk simply to satisfy his desire for an even battle.”

    “Then...maybe there’s a limit to it?” Lance says cautiously.

    “That...might actually make sense.” Pidge says with realization. “Think about it. Voltron, our Voltron can only use so much energy at a time. Look at us right now. It took every drop on quintessence we had just to survive that blast and we only just barely did that.”

    “If there is a limit...then what do we do? Just wait for it to run out?” Keith asks.

    “All we really can do. That and hope they don’t kill us in the meantime.”

    “That...may be too much to hope for.” Hunk says, “Look.”

    Darktron rises up from the planet’s atmosphere. It heads towards the lions, in no particular rush. For the first time, Keith looks defeated.

    Darktron draws its sword.

    “I’ll make it quick. I believe you’ve earned that much.” Zarkon says.

    Darktron raises its blade.

    Keith frantically tugs on his throttles. No response.

    “And just who said I was done with you!?” Lotor yells from within Sincline.

    His mecha tears across the starfield, brandishing the remaining sword in both hands.

    Darktron doesn’t even turn too look, casually swinging its blade to the side, deflecting Sincline’s strike. He swings again, Darktron deflects once more, then punches Sincline hard enough to send him crashing into the side of a Coalition cruiser. Another slash of energy from Darktron’s blade and the cruiser explodes around him. Keith winces at the loss of life.

    Panting, Lotor, drives Sincline after Darktron again. It's a futile gesture, each strike easily blocked. 

    “He’s going to die…” Allura realizes.

    “We’ll have to hope that Darktron uses up too much energy to keep up the armor.”

    “He won’t last that long.”

    As if to prove the point, Dark kicks Sincline into an asteroid, shattering it.

    “He...probably won't.” Keith admits.

    “If he had some kind of edge…”

    “What about all that teleporting he did to rough us up back when we fought?” Lance asks.

    “No, that’s far too dangerous. It compromised the space-time barrier last time.”

    “Actually…” Pidge says, fingers flying across a keyboard. “That was more about the way he did it, than what he did.” 

    “You think…”

    “If I’ve got this right then...”

    She keeps typing for a few more moments, then sends a file.

    Inside the Sincline cockpit, a mathematical equation appears on the side of his screen.

    “Lotor!” Pidge says. “If you control your energy output, I think you could safely slide back and forth to the unlimited quintessence field.” 

    His eyes widen at the mention of the field. His facial muscles twitch with horror.

“It might be the only way to-”

    “No!” He snarls, dismissing the equation to drive his mecha after Darktron again.    “I’ll never step foot in that place again! Never!”

    He unleashes a series of powerful blows, one after the other aimed at Darktron’s head. The swings are batted away as if they’d come from a child.

    “Really, I’m not sure I can believe you’re really me from this reality.” The Lotor inside Darktron mocks. He knocks aside Sincline’s  blade and swings Darktron’s sword at the other mecha’s chest. The blade carves a deep gash in Sincline’s armor. Undeterred, Sincline drives forward to swing again.

    “I consider myself a smart man. So how can you be so stupid as to join the side of this war doomed to fail? What possessed you to make such an idiotic choice?”

    “At least I made a choice! Instead of bending to Zarkon’s will yet again!”

     The response catches the Paladin Lotor off-guard enough that Sincline nearly lands a blow on Darktron’s head. Paladin Lotor blocks the thrust by the narrowest of margins. Honerva then blasts Sincline in the chest, hurling him backwards. His ragged breaths can be heard over the comm.

    Allura watches with a pained expression, as Lotor drives Sincline into motion one more time. Her knuckles are white on the throttles. 

    “We can’t just sit here!”

    “This is Keith, do we have anyone available to assist?” Keith says over the comm.

    “A bit tied up at the moment…” Matt says with a strained voice.

    “We are much the same, I’m afraid!” Skriel reports.

    “On our way!” Coran reports, “We’re almost done mopping up this backline!”

    “They won’t get here in time…” Allura says, almost to herself. “...if Lotor falls here, we really do lose.”

    Her expression hardens. She draws in a breath. She begins to glow with a light blue hue. Her hands crackle as energy drains from her into her lion. A flicker of light races across her console. 

    Sincline, cracked armor, one sword remaining charges at Darktron again.

    “We’re about to lose this form.” Honerva reports.

    “Then let’s take care of one last thing before we do…” Zarkon says.

    Darktron raises it's sword, the blade burning with violet flame. Still, Sincline charges, sword held before him.

    “Come on...come on…” Zarkron says with anticipation as the other mecha grows closer. Darktron swings blade fall down at Sincline one last time.

    The Blue Lion’s sonar cannon fires. Assaulted by the vibration of energy, Darktron's swing is thrown off ever so slightly. It misses Sincline, blade throwing an arc of energy that destroys several galra ships in the distance. Sincline uses the opening to thrust for Darktron’s face. Zarkon throws the mecha into motion, twisting it to avoid the blade. A grazing blow slides against Darktron’s cheek. 

    Furious, Zarktron drives Darktron forward and Sincline is flung backwards by a punch to the chest. Whirling on the Blue Lion, Zarkon shouts:

    “Raimon! Spear her!” 

    Allura tries to move her lion, but what little energy it’d regained had been spent by the cannon. 

    Raimon slams his bayard into place and the harpoon gun appears on Darktron’s shoulder. He moves to fire, but something stops him. 

    He stares at the Blue Lion, as if really seeing it for the first time. An image of Allura appears in his mind. He shakes his head, as if trying to dismiss the thought.

    My father...King Alfor would always fight to the bitter end to stop men like Zarkon! 

    He shudders at the memory of the voice, putting a hand to the side of his helmet.  A series of flashes: Altean burning. Zarkon standing over Alfor. Allura’s body in space.

    You belong to Zarkon! A voice screams in his head.

He fires but at the last minute shifts the aim. The harpoon goes well off course, missing The Blue Lion entirely.

    “You missed!?” Zarkon says, incredulous. “Why you useless little-”

    “Zarkon!” Honverva suddenly says. 

    He turns, a fraction of a moment too late to see Sincline swing. It's blade tears a horizontal line across Darktron’s body.

    The outer armor shatters, breaking into shards of violet light before disappearing. Darktron’s smaller unarmored form beneath is blown backwards.

    Everyone, the paladins, the dark paladins, even Lotor who struck the blow are completely taken aback by what just happened.

    Then a manic smile crossed Sincline Lotor’s lips.   

    He starts swinging.

    The Dark Paladins are still too stunned to block Sincline’s first swing. The blades flashes, scoring a violet scar across Darktron’s chestpiece. Darktron’s sword rises just barely in time to block the second swing. Sincline follows the swing up with a punch to Darktron’s face, sending the other mecha reeling.

    The Paladins for Voltron watch with astonishment. 

    “He...he might actually do it.” Allura says, eyes glued to Sincline’s assault.

    “I’m not so sure…” Keith replies, expression uncertain.

    Darktron shrugs off a kick from Sincline and drives it's blade forward, arcing for the other mecha’s head. Sincline blocks, but is still driven backwards. Darktron tries to press its advantages but Sincline wedges one arm under the blade into Darktron’s gut and lets loose with an energy blast from it's forearm.

    Darktron is rocked backwards and Sincline manages to land a glancing blow on Darktron’s shoulder.

    “What’s wrong!?” Lotor tauts from within Sincline. “Nothing to say now!? You were so confident earlier, what happened? Not so scary once I tore that armor off you are you!?”

    Taking his sword in both hands, he hammers his blade down against Darktron’s shield, driving the other mecha back with each blow.

    In spite of this, Zarkon’s face is unpaniced.

    “Raimon,” he says, “I trust you...momentary lapse was just that?”

    The other dark paladin hesitates before replying.

    “Raimon.” Zarkon says more forcefully. “Who is your master?”

    “You, Zarkon.” He replies immediately

    “Hm. When I tell you to use the harpoon you damn-well better hit the target this time.”

    “...yes...my lord.”

    “Now…”

    Sincline’s assault on Darktron’s shield has not lessened. In fact it's only increased, attacks growing in speed and ferocity. His unhinged laughter can be heard over the comms. Each blow drives the shield and Darktron back.

     And so he’s somewhat caught off-guard when Darktron drops the shield entirely. The mecha twists to the side, Sincline’s blade narrowly missing it's head. Darktron drives a fist into Sincline’s chest as it goes past. Sincline reeling, Darktron moves in, thrusts it's sword for Sincline’s head. He deflects and moves to retreat back and gain some breathing room.

     “Raimon!”

    The harpoon gun appears on Darktron’s shoulder and fires. It's harpoon sticks into Sincline’s chest and reels him in. He throws a haphazard swing as he’s drawn close but Darktron’s own blade knocks it aside. The two mechas smash together, spinning through space.

    “I think you’ve miscalculated Zarkron!” Sincline Lotor spits. “From this distance, I can’t miss!”

    With that declaration energy begins to build in Sincline’s chest.

    “I have made…” 

Darktron’s green arm reaches out to the side as Honerva slams her bayard into place.

    “...no miscalculation.”

    A dagger with a blade as dark as space itself appears in Darktron’s hand. It's driven point-first into Sincline’s gut.

    “You’ll have to do more than that to bring down my…”

    The energy gathering around Sincline’s chest fades. A new glow appears. Where the dagger stabs into the mecha’s armor, violet quintessence bleeds out, all sucked up by the blade.

    Alarms pop up all over the screens in Sincline’s cockpit. Lotor’s eyes widen with panic.

    “What did you think we based the robeasts spears on?” Honerva states.

    Sincline struggles to break free of the fatal embrace, driving a fist over and over into Darktron’s face. It fails to disengage the two. Each blow from Sincline lands a bit weaker than the last one.

    The Paladins watch the life bleed away for Sincline.

    It is then that the White Lion rockets towards the scene.

    “Paladins!” Coran says. “We’re here to assist!” 

    “Coran! The White Lion!”

    “Yes Princess! It worked! Now let’s see what we can do about those drained lions!”   

     “No wait, do not endanger yourselves!” 

    “With respect Princess, it's time for us to do our part in this fight.”   

    She hesitates. “...very well.”

    “Now then...initiate energy transfer!” 

    The White Lion opens its mouth and five tendrils of white energy shoot out to embrace the Lions of Voltron. 

    “Hold tight, Paladins. This might take a tick.”

They continue to watch the battle before them.

Darktron’s jets fire, pushing both mechas through space. Lotor watches Sincline’s energy-levels dwindle. They speed towards an asteroid behind Sincline. Making one last struggle, Sincline manages to pull his sword between the two of them and slice the tether holding them together. Then he kicks Darktron back, finally breaking the dagger’s vampiric connection. 

    Sincline hits the asteroid in a crouch, surface cracking underfoot. A quick consultation of energy-levels shows Lotor just how truly bad a shape he is in. Darktron hovers just above.

    “One last chance.” He says, gritting his teeth, brandishing his mecha’s sword. 

    Letting out a battle-cry, Lotor drives Sincline into motion, kicking off the asteroid to swing his sword with all the power he has left. The blade is a blur, almost too fast to be seen.

    Darktron is faster.

    It catches Sincline by the sword-arm mid-swing. 

     Darktron smashes Sincline back down into the asteroid, shattering its surface. Sincline tries to swing a punch with it's free-arm, but Darktron slams a foot down on that arm as well. 

    “It seems the Zarkon of this reality never quite managed your discipline properly. Allow me to rectify his mistake.”

    Darktron drives the blade down through Sincline’s shoulder. Zarktron slams his bayard into place.

    The Sword erupts into violet flames. The join shatters into molten bits, arm breaking free of the body.

    Lotor screams in pain as if he’d just lost his own arm. Still, he struggles to break free, Sincline writhing under Darktron’s foot.

    Darktron raises its other foot and slams it down into Sincline’s head.

    “You…” 

The foot slams down again, driving Sincline deeper into the asteroid.

    “...are…”   

    Again. Paladin Lotor winces. Honerva’s face is like a stone.

    “...NOTHING!”

 At the third hit, Sincline no longer struggles.

    Darktron raises its sword.

    “If you see your father wherever you’re going, tell him I’m going to take good care of this universe he left behind.”

    “Go to hell.” Lotor spits out, barely conscious.

    “I think you’ll be getting there first.”

    Darktron lets the sword drop.

    A blast of blue energy slams into Darktron hurling it off the asteroid. It takes only a moment for the Dark Paladins to right Darktron and turn to see who deprived them of the kill.

    Voltron, reformed, hovers across from then, Castle of Lions just behind. 

    Zarkon sneers. “Is everyone in this reality really so keen on being the first one to die!? Fine. Can we actually finish what we started this time?”

    “Sounds good to me.” Keith replies, eyes narrowing.

    Both mechas prepare to fly at each other.

    “Lord Zarkon!” Luca’s voice suddenly breaks out over the comm.

    “What is it!?” Zarkon demands.

    “The Array is ready!” 

    For a moment, all is still.

    The paladins of both Voltrons stare at each other, then at the distant Array, beginning to crackle with energy.

    Voltron and Darktron booster wings both materialize and erupt with fiery energy  as they race towards the Array.

    ***

    Admiral Sanda crawls from the wreckage of her broken fighter, atop an enemy galra cruiser. Her magnetic boots fasten her to the surface of the galra cruiser. In her hands is a Garrison-issue Las-gun. She’s making for the command tower. Long before she can make it a hatch opens and a galra sentinel climbs out. Sanda puts a hole in the first one’s head. It's replaced by another a moment later, gun blasting. She swears and takes cover behind a groove in the cruiser’s armor.

    More sentries climb out. A squad of five of them approach, blasting at her cover, keeping her pinned down.

    “Dammit.” She sighs. “Always knew I was gonna die in space. Couldn’t have been on a beach, could it? This is what I get for not taking my early retirement package.”

    The only reply comes in the form of more energy-blasts raining against her cover. Sanda sighs again. She checks her gun and gets ready to pop back out from cover. The sentries grow closer, stepping past another entry hatch. It opens behind them. 

    At the same time as Sand leaps out from behind cover, the new figure pounces from the hatch. She blasts a sentinel in the chest. The figure decapitates one from behind. She shoots another in the head. The figure cuts down the final two with a pair of swift delicate cuts. 

    Sanda lands in a crouch, panting. She studies the figure.

    The figure is a galra, clad in traditional military armor. But he holds a mamoran blade.

    “You one of our alien spies?” Sand sniffs.

    “I am Pavok, a Blade of Marmora. And you, are fortunate to have landed on this ship. We only managed to get agents on a few of them in advance of this attack.”

    Sanda scoffs. “I’ll count my lucky stars. Seems to be plenty of them around here.” She gestures to the cluster around them. 

“So...what now?”

    “I can help you secure a fighter from which to escape...”

    “Or?”

    “Or, I suppose you could join me in attempting to take the bridge.”

    “How’s our odds?”

    “Poor. We will likely perish.”

    Sanda considered. “Well, I’m already a day away from retirement.”

    “Ma’am?”

    “Might as well push my luck a little further, eh?”

    The Blade smiles. “Very well.”

***

        The rings of the Array crackle with energy, filtered through the robeasts and their altean pilots. The altean’s screams are unrelenting over the comms. 

    Voltron and Darktron rocket towards those rings, past the storm of warring ships around them as two blurs of light. They clash every few moments, blades meeting as they each try to throw the other off course. Neither give an inch.

     “Why must you make this so difficult!?” Zarkon demands. “Don’t you get tired of being beaten over and over!?”

    “We’re just stubborn like that! Never learn our lesson!” Keith retorts.

They clash again, waves of energy from their blades, blasting apart any fighters unfortunate enough to be nearby. 

    “For all the good it’ll do you! I am going to remake this universe in my own image!” 

    “No, you won’t! Because we’re stopping you right here! Allura!”

    The harpoon gun appears on Voltron’s shoulder. Darktron is unable to dodge from the close range and is speared. Voltron then stops suddenly, jerking the other mecha back before swinging it into the side of an enemy galra vessel. Votlron lets loose with hand-bladers obliterating the ship around Darktron.

    Voltron bursts back into motion, leaving Darktron behind in the debris. 

    Growling, Zarktron drives Darktron into motion after them. 

    “Sendak!”

    Darktron’s cannon fires, aimed straight for Voltron’s back. Voltron manages to dodge to the side, but is still grazed by the blast, throwing it into an erratic tumble and clipping the side of an asteroid. Darktron uses the opportunity to speed up and backhand Voltron through the center of the asteroid. Darktron takes the lead. 

    Keith drives Voltron back into maximum speed. But Darktron closes in on the Array.

“Hunk are we in range of those rings?”

“Yeah?”

“Turn ‘em to scrap!”

    Hunk’s cannon appears and fires.

    “No!” Zarkon refutes, pulling up to summon the greater shield and reflect the blast back at Voltron. Voltron doesn’t slow or dodge, instead taking the energy along the blade of its sword. Voltron swings, but rather than block, Zarkon allows the hit to cut into Darktron’s shoulder-armor. The Dark Paladins feel the pain of Voltron’s blade bringing through their armor. But by taking this hit Darktron is able to gain an opening to summon and stab its dagger into Voltron’s side.

    Immediately Darktron begins to drain Voltron of its quintessence.

Pidge dismisses the shield and clamps down on Darktron’s green arm, trying to pry it loose. But Voltron’s fading strength does not allow it to overcome Darktron’s own growing power.

    “That is game, little ones.” Zarkron says, triumphantly.

    Pidge doesn’t give up on trying to pry the other arm away. The other Paladins throw all their strength into disentangling the other mecha.

    “I’ve run the calculations.” Honerva says with a sigh. “You’re out of option.”

    Straining, Pidge cracks a pained smile. “I think you forgot to account for one irregular variable.”

    “Such as?”

    Pidge’s bayard port opens. “Us!” 

    She releases Darktron’s arm and slams her bayard into place. Voltron’s dagger appears in its hand, stabbing into Darktron’s side.

    The two mechas hang there in the space in front of the array, draining and recharging on each other in an unending loop. 

    “Think you said something about that being game!?” Keith taunts.

    Zarkon doesn’t reply at first, straining to pry away from the Voltron. It is just as futile as it was for Voltorn before. 

    But something catches his eye. He grins with malice. 

    “...and it is.”

    Luca’s robeast slams into the side of Voltron, tearing it off Darktron. Voltron knocks the robeats aside, but a new one behind slices Voltron’s back, throwing it into the strike of yet a third robeast.

    “We have them my Lords!” Luca declares as all three unleash blasts on Voltron.

    “...excellent.”

    Zarkron lets out a satisfied sigh, then turns to the Array, unimpeded. 

***

    From across the starfield, inside the battered and broken Sincline, Lotor rouses. He spits glowing purple blood from his mouth and sits up. Even that simple action causes him to grimace.

    He hits a few keys on his console and the viewport magnifies, showing Darktron and Voltron’s struggle. And he sees Voltron knocked back and forth by the robeasts. Watches as Darktron flies up to the Array and stretches out a hand towards the innermost rings. Energy crackles, ready to drain into Darktron unlimited power.

    He tries to force Sincline to rise. The mecha lets out a shudder of grinding metal and manages to get halfway up from rising before falling back down to the asteroid. 

    Lotor lies back in his seat, looking totally and completely drained.

    “So that’s it then…” 

    He closes his eyes in apparent acceptance. 

“...Zarkon wins...”

His brow twitches. He grits his teeth.

 Then suddenly, he sits back up, fingers flying across his console. He brings up Pidge’s calculations from earlier. He keys in the algorithm but stops before typing in the last number.

    He hesitates, then looks back across the starfield at Darktron about to receive the payload of the rings.

    Then drawing in a shuddering breath and wincing in anticipation of pain, Lotor keys in the final digit. 

    Sincline vanishes in a flash of light.

***

    The crackling energy throughout the rings swell. 

    “Yes…” Zarkon says with glee. “...the field is opening.”

    The energy traces down one ring after the other, finally it comes to the last one. A breach in the space above the ring opens, blinding light bleeding out. This flash of pure energy can be seen throughout the entire star cluster, dwarfing even that of the stars themselves.

    “Finally! Give it all to me! Unlimited-”

    Something flies through the breach. Trailing burning energy behind it, Sincline, blazing with quintessence flies down the middle of the ring and swings its one remaining fist into Darktron.

    Force of the blow, supercharged with quintessence, flings the other mecha halfway across the star cluster. The collective forces of both sides seem to pause in their relentless battle, universally gaping at the display. 

    And then, the Array unleashes its payload. It has only one place to go.

    Into Sincline. A storm of pure quintessence funnels into the mecha. 

    “...yes!” He says, laughing madly. “This absolutely agonizing ecstasy!”

    The fractures in its armor armor seal up. It gains a new arm, materialized out of raw energy.

“This wonderful euphoric pain! Just as magnificent and terrible as I remember! No...no that’s not right. More concentrated than before! It magnified! Such blissful torment!”

    The Paladins of Voltron watch with horrified awe. 

    “We’ve got to do something!” Lance says.

    “Agreed.” Keith says. “We don’t know what he plans to do with that power, so we’ve got to pull him out of there asap!”   

    Voltron moves towards Sincline. Before they can even get within arms reach a wave of energy releases from Sincline, blasting Voltron backwards.

    “Stay back! This power is mine!” 

    His face is contorted into anger for a moment, but quickly changes back to awe as he stares off at something seen only to him.

    “With this power I could do...anything.”

    Sincline glows brighter, more quintessence funneling in.

    “I could purge the galaxy of Zarkon’s influence. Undo every dark design he ever made. Change worlds for the better. Change every world for the better...”

    “Allura can you pull him out of there with the harpoon!?” Keith asks. 

    She stares at Sincline, glowing ever brighter. 

    “Allura?”

    She closes her eyes and sighs. 

    “Let me talk to him.”

    “But-”

    “-Keith. Do you trust me?”

    “...of course I do.” 

    “Then let me talk to him.”

    Keith looks like he wants to argue. He studies the other mecha and chews on his lip. Finally he sits back and nods. “...alright.”

    “Thank you.” She smiles gratefully, then opens a private comm channel. 

“...Lotor.”

    “I could fix it all...it's so simple…”

    “Lotor.” She says, more forcefully this time.

    He breaks from his reverie. “Allura...don’t you see?”

    “See what, Lotor?”

    “I could do anything. I could even bring them back.” 

    She hesitates. “You mean...the atleans you…”

    “The alteans I betrayed and murdered.” he says mournfully. But his voice quickly regains strength, taking on an almost manic tone. “I could undo it all! I could finally make it right, Allura! Maybe then...it’ll all have been worth it. Maybe then I’ll be able to sleep right. I...I could even rebuild altea itself!”

    For a moment she seems almost as taken with the idea as he is.

    “I could finally make up for-” His voice cracks. “-for all of my mistakes.”

    That breaks Allura from her musing. 

    “...no, Lotor. That isn’t right.”

    “What!? Why?” He demands.

    “Because this power is so much greater than you are. Don’t you see that this is what started you on your path to begin with? You’re still trying to gain enough power to fix everything you see wrong with the universe. But that isn’t your place Lotor. It's not up to you to decide who lives and who dies. No matter how powerful you are, you’re not a god. You’re just a man. 

    “And what’s so wrong with wanting to be more than a man!?” His voice takes on a pleading tone. “What’s wrong with just wanting things to be right? With wanting an end to all the suffering? Suffering that I had a big part in.”

“I know you’re trying to make those mistakes right now. But this isn’t the way. You don’t know what this power will do. To the things you change. To you. Look at what just a fraction of this did to Zarkon.”

“But…” his voice grows weak. “...they trusted me, Allura. They trusted me. If I don’t try to bring them back how will I ever live with myself?”

“By taking responsibility for what you did. Not trying to make it so it didn’t happen.”

His face grows somber. 

“I just...just wanted to take care of them. Just wanted to do this one thing, to finally put things right for my people.”

“I know...and part of me wants to tell you to do it. To rebuild everything our people lost. To bring back all those wrongfully killed. But a deeper, more honest part of me, the part that my father taught, knows that it would not turn out like you plan. That power, even if used for good, would corrupt you. Just let it go Lotor.” 

His face is a mask of warring emotions. “I...I’m not sure I know how. I’m not sure I even know how to do the right thing.”

“Yes you do. No matter what you’ve done, no matter what I or anyone else has said before, you aren’t Zarkon. You can still let this go.”

“He gives the slightest of nods. 

“And Lotor?”

“Yes?” 

“One more thing: The altean people aren’t your responsibility. They’re mine.”

He hesitates, then smiles. 

“...as usual, you’re right. Alright, Princess. I guess it's time for me to recognize my own responsibility...”

And then he opens the comms to everyone.

“Attention to all alteans listening!”

Allura’s eyes widen. 

“My name is Lotor. And I am not that imposter that has been using you these past months. I am the real one. I know you. Vatta, Dramor, Lagmor. Romelle, Sahan, Merv. Venjya, Astras, Leynor...and Luca.”

    Luca’s eyes widen.

    “...and so many others. I’ve known you your entire lives. I brought you together when you were exiled across the galaxy. I built you a home in a place where Zarkon would never find you. I watched you raise a statue in my image, and I did not stop you. And then I took your own from you bit by bit, in the promise of a new, greater home. I gave you hope in the darkest of times…

He takes in a shuddering breath.

“...and it was all lies.”

    The faces of alteans all across the battle grow shocked.

    “I tore them away from you to use for experiments. To get more quintessence. I told myself it was in the name of building a better home for alteans. But in truth I was draining innocent alteans of their life force...until they died. I killed dozens of them for the ‘greater good’. I betrayed and murdered those who trusted me the most. I said I cared, but In the end I used you for my own goals.” 

    He stares down at his hand, reflecting on his own words.

    “...and the imposters you serve now are no better! Those dark liars are not here for your salvation! They’re just more opportunists come along to use you, just as I used you! Look at your brothers and sisters stuck in this Array you built for them! Do you not hear their screams? Do you not feel their pain!?”

    The screams seem to grow louder. Prince Lotor, inside Darktron racing back towards the Array, looks almost as haunted as his counterpart. Inside her robeast, Luca’s hands weaken on her controls. 

“...but there is someone here, someone fighting in this very battle who has never once done anything except for the good of you. Someone who would give her own life and suffer a thousand pains to prevent even a single altean from experiencing what I put them through. It's Princess Allura, of the true Voltron. She’s struggling to help you even now, as you fight her tooth and nail. I will not tell you to fight for her. I won’t tell you to do anything any longer. I just ask that you look inside and see the truth of what I say! You know. You’ve felt it. Decide who you really want to fight for!”

He lets out a sigh and closes the comm. 

    “You’ve done the right thing, Lotor.” Allura says.

    “I...suppose I have.”

    Sincline’s glow continues to grow brighter. The alteans in the Array continue to scream.”

    “...now, how do I stop this?! It's killing them!”

    He tries to push the energy back through the rings of the Array, but it is like trying to stem the tide of the ocean with a hand. It washes over his efforts and drains back into Sincline.

    “I can’t seem to stop it!” 

    “That won't do it!” Pidge says. “The breach is open now. Even if you could stop it from flowing into you, the tear would just grow and grow until it rips reality apart!”

    “Do you have a suggestion of how to avoid that then!?”

    She runs some calculations.

    “...you need to turn it back in on itself. Make the energy work to contain the breach.”

    “You mean…”

    “You need to make a black hole. It's the only way to keep the breach from growing in size.”

    Lotor chuckles. “Then I shall make a black hole.”

With that Sincline throws both of its hands back through the Array, and unleashes the energy it's gathered back directly into the breach. At first the flow starts to spill past, but he redoubles his efforts, and soon an orb begins to grow where the rift opens to the array.

    “He’ll need a lot of mass to toss into the black hole.” Hunk points out. “Otherwise it won't be able to sustain itself and will just invert again.”

    “Attention all Coalition Forces!” Keith orders. “We need uh...mass. Anything you can get. Asteroids, debris, enemy ships. Shove it all into the orb. We need to turn it into a black hole. This is priority number-one. Now to get those alt…”

    Keith’s voice trails off as Luca and the four remaining robeasts approach. Voltron and the robeasts are both still for a tantalizing moment, light from the orb dancing across their armor. 

    “...what do we need to do to save them?” Luca finally says.

    Allura allows herself the slightest of smiles. 

    “Start pulling them off one by one! But it's going to get harder, and more dangerous as each one is pulled off. The energy draining through will get more and more concentrated. So you’ll have to pull off the last five in sync or the strain will kill them.”

    “Understood.” 

Luca makes a move past them, but hesitates.

“...you saved me. Even after I betrayed you.”

“I’d do it again.” Allura replies.

Luca ever so slightly nods to herself. She and the other robeast move past Sincline, sparing not a glance for the mecha or it's pilot. They each grab another robeats on the widest ring, and strain to pull them out. The energy crackles around them, trying to keep them within the Array. But after a time, they are able to rip several of their comrades free. A few of the screams die down. They move onto the next ones.

    Keith sighs with relief. “That’s one thing out of the way. Now-”

    Darktron smashes into Voltron at so fast a speed that it's sent hurling back through space. 

    “...you ignorant, childish, FOOLS!” Zarkon bellows. “You took what was mine! You think just because you delayed my plans that you’ve stopped me!? You will never stop me! Even if it takes me a thousand years, and I have to bleed dry a thousand realities, I will have what is mine!”

    He lets loose another blast upon Voltron. Voltron throws up it's shield blocking the blast, but a second impact drives into Voltron.

    The World Bane hovers behind, hammer outstretched.

    “Go on my lord, do what you have to.”

“Try to keep those children occupied.” Zarkon says, as Darktron plunges it's dagger into the nearest robeast. The energy begins to bleed into Darktron. “I’ve some energy to recover.”

The energy drains not just from the robeast’s core, but from the young altean boy in the cockpit as well. He starts to scream. Inside the red arm, Prince Lotor stares at the scene, disturbed. He glances at the alteans still suffering inside the Array, then over to Sincline. His gaze falls.

    “...I’m sorry.” He says quietly.

    He is not the only one who watches. Raimon does as well. And his hands grow tighter on his controls.

***

    Sanda and Pavok crouch in the corridor leading into the bridge. They trade shots with the ship’s bridge personnel. The blasted remains of the door lie on the floor in front of them. The clanking of metal boots sounds behind as a team of sentinels approaches their rear. 

    Pavok passes Sanda a grenade which she promptly tosses behind her. There’s an explosion followed by sentinel parts rattling across the floor.

    Keith’s voice comes over the comm. “Attention all Coalition Forces! We need uh...mass. Anything you can get. Asteroids, debris, enemy ships. Shove it all into the orb. We need to turn it into a Black Hole. This is priority number-one.” 

    Sanda shares a look with Pavok. “Did he just say they’re trying to make a Black Hole?”

    “He did.” Pavok confirms, throwing his blade into the chest of a bridge officer, before shooting another.

    Sanda shakes her head. “You know I still remember a time when we didn’t even know for sure that aliens even existed?”

    “Life takes you strange places.” The Blade says, dashing into the bridge.

    Sanda gives him cover-fire as he makes for the blade he threw. He wrenches it from the chest of the officer and swings it in a wide arc, dispatching the remaining officers in a single sweep of his blade. 

    Sanda steps inside, keeping her gun on the hallway she just exited. She eyes the remains of the door.

    “Wish we hadn’t had to blow that thing. We won’t be able to hold this location for long.”

    As if in agreement, the sound of more metal boots rings out from somewhere further down the corridor.

     “Then we’ll have to make our time here count.” 

Pavok goes to the controls. On the viewport at the front of the bridge, a display of the battle is shown. Darktron struggles with the robeasts, while behind, the glowing orb grows larger. Countless cruisers from both sides still blast away at each other.

    “We might be able to get one shot off and destroy or cripple another ship. That’s about the best we can hope for.” Pavok says. 

    Sanda considers. Then, a smile grows on her face.

    “...can you put us on a collision course?”

    Pavok gives a quizzical tilt of his head.

    “That ship over there looks mighty close to that big orb, there. They said they needed mass. What’s say we give them two cruisers worth of it?”

    Pavok smiles. “I’m starting to like you, human.”

    “Then I must be doing something wrong.” She replies flatly, though a tinkle of a smile still enters her eyes.

     Pavok keys in a series of commands into the control, then throws a throttle forward. The ship lurches with the sudden forward momentum. It makes for a nearby sister-cruiser, hovering not far from the orb. Sanda then shoots the console, rendering it unusable. 

    Pavok nods in approval. “Now, we really ought to get off this ship.”

***

    The commander of the enemy galra ship realizes what the approaching ship is doing far too late. The hijacked cruiser smashes into the other, driving both towards the orb. Sanda and Pavok watch it from a galra fighter, racing away from the scene.

     The two ships, upon contact with the orb, rupture, armor melting to slag. Then their internal frames begin to warp, drawing in towards the orb. Finally, they break apart into shards. Shards that are swallowed by the orb. 

    The orb then dims, not satisfied by just the solid material it consumed. It must feat upon the light itself too. It grows darker, light around it starting to distort. Yet the bright scar of the breach remains where Sincline still blasts into it. 

     Sanda whistles.

    “Hot damn. They really are making a black hole.”

    The change seems to go unnoticed by Darktron and the battling robeasts.

    “Should we provide aid?” Pavok suggests.

    “I think...we should stick to more conventional fighting. We’ve tempted fate enough for one day. Let’s let the giant robots fight the giant robots.”

***

The World Bane brings it's hammer down on Voltron a second time, smashing it to fall towards one of the nearby planets. Voltron pulls itself up before plummeting into the atmosphere, but the World Band smashes it's hammer again, trying to drive Voltron down further. Voltorn resists the blow with its shield, struggling to hold its ground.

    “We don’t have time for this!” Keith exclaims.

    “Huhuh, really? Because I do.” Ru’vak remarks. A blast erupts from it's single eye, taking Voltron off-guard. Voltron, struck in the face, falls back with it's guard slipping open. The World Bane raises it's hammer to swing once more, but before it can attack further the White Lion swoops in to let loose a mouth blast. The World Ban blocks with it's shield, energy washing over the dark metal. Before it can mount a counter-attack the Atlas and Paladin Crusher both smash into its back.

“I’m surprised. I thought after the thrashing I gave you two, you’d have the good sense to stay down.”

The two mechas are indeed battered, armor cracking or even ripped off in some places. But still they struggle.

“You’ll-” Skriel lets out a hacking cough, “H-have to do more than that to keep up down!” 

“Y-yeah we’re stubborn like that!” Matt adds. 

They do their best to restrain the larger mecha while the White Lion sprays it with energy-blasts.

“We’ve got this, go on!”   

“Thanks guys!” Keith replies

    Voltron rockets back towards where Darktron is attacking the robeasts.

    The World Bane tosses the Paladin Crusher off it's arm, then swings the Atlas in front of the White Lion’s blast, forcing it to take the blow. Then it launches forward and swings it's bladed shield for the Lion’s neck. White Lion manages to block with its jaw-blade. Barely. It is still flung back, tumbling in orbit over the planet.     

    The Paladin Crusher is the first to recover. It throws itself at the World Bane. It grapples the other mecha to try to keep it from using its powerful melee weapons. The Paladin Crusher opens it's maw to fire it's mouth-blaster while the World Bane fires it's eye-blaster at the same time. The two beams of destructive energy meet, equalizing for a moment in a torrent of glowing light. But the World Bane’s soon overcomes that of the Paladin Crusher. The blast smashes into the Crusher face, tossing it backwards. Meanwhile the Atlas tries to thrust an armblade into the Bane’s exposed back.  

    “Vinas Perth.” Ru’vak utters as his mecha swings a roundhouse kick into the Atlas sending it spinning back. “Ancient galra martial arts form.”

    Finally, the White Lion makes another dash at the enemy mecha, this time swinging an energy-wreathed claw. The World Band simply tilts it's hammer and drives the back of the haft into the White Lion’s underbelly. 

“Dalas stuk, modern galra military staff-fighting.”

    Alteans go tumbling inside the White Lion as it is thrown backwards again.

    “So undisciplined.” Ru’vak sighs.

    “Things-” Matt coughs, “Looking pretty bad, huh?”

    “Sure seems that way, oho.” Skriel says weakly.

    “Well then,” Coran says, oddly still chipper. “What say we use that secret weapon we’ve been saving.”

    “You wanna use that eh?” Matt muses.

    “If you must.” Skriel scoffs. “Though I resent having to team up with a bunch of humans and alteans in such a...uncomfortably close manner.”

    “No time for that now, it's time to get snug! Coran?”

    “Right away! Initiating combination!”

    Coran slams both hands down on the controls. The White Lion begins to split apart. Meanwhile Matt activates something on his own fixture, and the Atlas’s armor opens up in an accommodating manner. Thirdly, the Paladin Crusher splits back to four individual pieces. The White Lion wraps itself over the Atlas’ head and shoulders. The four warlord ships then each attach themselves to one of Atlas’ limbs, making them longer and thicker. Finally, everything seals together and the armor takes on a golden lustor.

    “Presenting for the first time ever: Leon Guardian!” 

    The new mecha rips a glowing lance into existence. 

    “...well now, huhuhu!” Ru’vak says, sounding excited. “Finally, and interesting development!”

    He bears his hammer in both hands. “Let us dispense with the tricks and tools and simply pit strength against strength!”

    “Fine by us!” Matt declares.

    The two mecah change at each other, Leon Guardian with his Lance, World Bane with it's hammer. But right before the two meet, The World Bane suddenly reactivates it's shield, deflecting the lance, opening the Guardian up for a sidelong blow with the hammer.

    “Vintas sen, pit-fighting, naive ones!” He bellows in victory as the rocket-powered hammer swings for the Leon Guardian’s head. But the guardian, already in motion, twists to spin a backfist into the World Bane’s face. The World Bane hammer soars over the Guardian’s head, thrown off-course by the blow. Ru’vak is stunned.

    “Altean fisticuffs, my good man!” Coran declares.

    Ru’vak tries to swing an elbow into the other mecha’s side but it's blocked and countered by a knee to the abdomen by the Guardian.

    “Garrison combat training!” Matt yells out.

    As a last ditch effort, the World Bane’s eye glows, preparing to fire.   

    “And this!...well I guess you’d just call it galran drunken brawling technique!” Skriel cries as the World Bane is grabbed by the neck and the Leon Guardian smashes it's head into the other mecha’s.    

    The armor on the World Bane’s head cracks, single eye bleeding energy.

    “Th-that…” Ru’vak stammers. “...was really quite impressive.”

    Coran, Matt and Skriel grin. “Glad you thought so!” they say in unison. “Now…”

The Leon Guardian back it's lance once more, glowing with a golden light.

    “Starlight-Lance Attack!”

    It drives the lance straight through the World-Bane’s chest. It busts out the other end, the World Bane’s core impaled on it's tip. The Guardian flicks the core off to spin out and explode in the planet’s atmosphere, while the World Bane goes limp behind.

    “You sure were tough...but you were fighting the combined power of humans, alteans and galra today.” Matt says.

    “Ohoho and most importantly, the great Skriel!”

    Coran chuckles. “Yes, one cannot forget that.” 

     “Well played…” Ru’vak says, smiling. “...very well played.”

***

        Raimon watches Darktron finish draining a robeast. He is greeted with memories of a burning altea, screams of the pain mirroring that of the altean they drain. But the image vanishes, replaced by an image of Zarkon’s glowing eyes. 

    You belong to Zarkon. Honverva’s voice says in his mind.

    Darktron casts the sapped robeast aside, and launches at the next one. They take evasive action, pulling away from the advancing mecha and firing blasts of energy. Darktron blocks the blasts on it's shield.

    “They think they can run? Alteans. Raimon, reel one in.”

    Raimon immediately summons the harpoon gun and takes aim. 

    Voltron dashes in front of them. 

“No! You’ve done enough to them!” Allura cries. “You will hurt no more of my people today!

My people...

    Raimon is confronted by a series of images. A youthful Allura. Her mother. Alfor trying to stop Zarkon. Alfor failing. Altea burning. Everything burning. Zarkon laughing. 

    She fought to the end...too much like her father…

    An image of Allura dead, in the void of space.

Honerva with a hand over his face.

    You belong to Zarkon. 

    A pulse of pain in the form of violet lighting.

    You belong to Zarkon.

    More pain.

    You belong to Zarkon. You belong to Zarkon. You belong to Zarkon!

Zarkon! Zarkon! Zarkon!

    The voice screams at him.

    ZARKON!

    Then, silence.

...if you’re Alfor, then I know there must be some part of you still fighting him!

His body stiffens.   

“Raimon!” Shouts Zarkon, the real one, not a memory. “What are you waiting for? Spear them now!”

Raimon stares out the viewport at Voltron. He reaches out towards the blue leg as if feeling something from there. Then, he looks up at the sword held in Voltron’s grip. He remembers when he held that blade. His eyes clear, as if from a fog. His hand tightens into a fist. 

“Raimon!” Zarkon yells again.

“...Alfor.”

“...what did you say?” Zarkon asks, voice as cold as the vacuum of space.

    “My name...is King Alfor.” His voice gains strength, “And I do not serve you, Zarkon!”

    All is silent for an eternal, chilling second. Allura's face goes from disbelief to tearful amazement.

    For the barest moment Zarkon seems lost for words. He shakes himself.

    “I don't have time for this.” He shoves Darktron into motion, aiming for the next robeast. Alfor throws his throttles in the opposite direction, resisting Zarkon. But the other Dark Paladins join in to overwhelm Alfor’s resistance. Voltron moves forward.

    “You’ll have to get through us!” Keith declares.

    “Will I?” 

    Darktron turns, cannon appearing, but rather than aiming at Voltron, it takes aim at Sincline, still forming the now-dark orb. Keith curses under his breath throwing Voltron into motion. It barely gets the shield up in time to take the brunt of the blast meant for Sincline. Voltorn is still sent hurling blackward by the force of the beam.

    Darkon launches itself at the next robeast, sinking the dagger in. 

    “That’s it…” Zarkon says. “...just a little more.”

    Luca swings at Darktron’s back. Lotor blocks with the sword.

    “I can’t let you do that, my lord.” She says the title with disdain.

    Prince Lotor winces. She drives forward, thrusting for Darktron’s chest. Lotor’s hesitance, along with Alfor’s sudden jerk of motion lets her land a glancing blow across Darktron’s side. It forces Darktron to release the robeast, but by that point the mecha has been largely drained.

     Luca swings again. The blow is deflected by Lotor, but at the last moment she splits her spear and plunges the additional blade into Darktron’s shoulder.

    She smiles in a self-satisfied way, waiting for the energy drain to begin. It does, but the energy does not flow into Luca’s robeast.

    “Did you really think we would design weapons that could be used against us?” Honerva says.

    Luca’s energy begins to bleed into Darktron, from her very own blade. Then Honerva plans the dagger in, draining the mecha even faster. She howls in pain, as her lifeforce begins to be extracted.

    “Stop this!” Alfor demands.

    “Never!” Zarkon snarls.

    Prince Lotor looks sick.

    “...is this what you want, Lotor?”

    The Prince looks struck to have been addressed.

    “Is this to be your legacy? The man who never raised a hand?”

    “Shut up you old fool!” Zarkron barks. “That boy will never step out of line, not for this or any other reason. Do you know why? Because unlike you he understand that I am the most powerful-”

    Lotor swings his sword into the dagger, breaking the connection. Luca stares in shock.

    “...enough.” Lotor says, eyes hardening. “We’ve done enough harm. To this reality and to the last.”

    Zarkon says nothing, fury burning so hot it seems to radiate off him. Alfor smiles widely. 

    Voltron races towards them once more. 

Zarkon tries to push Darktron into motion again, but both Prince Lotor and Alfor resist him this time.

    “...is this truly how you feel, son?” Honerva askes in a quiet voice. 

    “Yes. Do what you must.” Lotor says, sounding both exhausted and relieved.

    “I will kill you for this.” Zarkon says, matter-of-factly.

    “No you won’t.” Honerva decides. “Sendak, it's time.

    And then she and Sendak both hold back Darktron. All four limbs of Darktron splay out all in different directions, crippling the mecha’s movement.

    “What are you doing!?” Zarkon demands.

    “Choosing my son.”

    “Sendak…”

    “Is mine. Always has been. Or did you forget who gave him that arm?”

    Zarkon’s hands tremble with unmitigated fury.

    “Traitors! Every single one of you!”

    “I’ve been called worse.” Honerva says.

    “It's over, Father.” Lotor says. “We ought to split up and go our separate way. Perhaps if we’re lucky they won’t find us.”

    “Coward! I’m to be ruler of the universe! You think I would settle for hiding in the shadows!?”

    “You won’t be anything when we’re done with you!” Keith says, approaching in Voltron. He shakes his head at the display. “Even your own Paladins turned on you. Reap what you sow.”

    Lance summons the sword. “Wanna take care of ‘em?”

    “Yeah.” Keith says, narrowing his eyes.

    Voltron moves in to swing down for Darktron’s head.

    Time seems to slow for Zarkon. Everything he’s ever done, the expansion of the Galra Empire, commanding Voltron, descending into the Quantum Abyss, ripping apart his own reality to gain further power. He sees all of it blowing away in a pitiful gust of wind.

    “NO!” He bellows, voice reverberating throughout Darktron. Dark tendrils of violet energy crackle across the mechas. The tendrils wrap around the limbs of the other Dark Paladins, searing into them.

    “Wha-what is happening!?” Lotor asks.

    “His...connection to our Voltron…” Honerva says, voice strained.“...too strong...he’s subverting our own connections....” Her voice descends into a cry of pain.

    A moment before Voltron’s blade can strike Darktron, the tendrils force the Dark Paladins into motion. Five bayards slam into their slots.

    A flash of blinding violet energy engulfs the scene. Voltron swings.

    The Armored Darktron catches the blade in its hand.

    Zarkon cackles madly. Tendrils tie the other Dark Paladins to their throttles. Voltron strains to pull its sword free of Darktron’s grasp. It is a futile effort. 

    “Did you traitors really think you could turn Voltron against me!? And you children, thought you could match a fraction of my strength!? I am Emperor Zarkon! And all bows before me!” He cries, voice growing in it's mania. “A-and now that you...you took my chance at victory, I’m going to take everything from you! I will tear all of you apart! Slowly, painfully until you beg for death!”

    Darktron punches Voltron so hard it sends a shockwave rippling through space that sends the robeasts flying in every direction. Voltron rockets backwards, but  Darktron launches forward and snatches hold of the mecha again, dragging it's momentum back to a jerking halt.

    “How shall I do it!? Should I rip you apart limb by limb and crush you slowly one at a time? Or maybe…” He turns towards Sincline, “...I’ll just make you watch your reality die in front of you!”

    “No!” Keith yells, trying for all his might to drive Darktron backwards. But a blow from Darktron rattles Voltron so hard it nearly knocks all of the Paladins unconscious. Zarkon then drives Darktron into motion and they both start rocketing towards Sincline.

    “Are you ready to feel that blissfully sweet pain of the quintessence field before you watch it rip apart everything you’ve ever loved!?” Zarkon cackles to himself.

    They race forward in a blur, ready to smash into the mecha that is the only thing hiding back the raging tides of the unlimited quintessence field.

    A golden blur smashes into the side of them, knocking Darktron off-course and throwing Voltron free. Zarkon turns to see the Leon Guardian, lance outstretched. 

    “Hope we’re not interrupting.” Matt says. 

     “Is there no end to you miserable whelps!?” Zarkon rips Darktron’s sword into existence and clashes with the Leon Guardian.

    Meanwhile, Voltron shakes off it's earlier damage and makes as if to move into the fray.   

    “Wait!” Pidge says, drawing them to a halt. “If we just keep throwing ourselves at that think we’re just going to get trashed again.”

    “You got a better suggestion?” Keith asks. “Because I don’t think we’re gonna get lucky enough to wait out that armor a second time.”

    “I do, Keith. Because we now know how they get the armor: it's about power. Zarkon couldn’t form the armor again until he’d drained enough quintessence from Sincline and the robeasts.”

    “But how are we supposed to get that kind of power? The White Lion is a little occupied at the moment.”

    “...we’ll do it.”

    Luca, her two remaining robeast lieutenants, and a small handful of robeasts recovered from the Array approach.

    “We’ll give you everything we have left.”

    “We can’t let you-” Allura starts to say.

    “-Princess. This battle does not leave us with much choice.” 

    She hesitates, but sighs and nods, “...I understand. Do as you will, brave ones.”

    Luca nods to her compatriots and they thrust their spears into Voltron’s armor. Blue energy pulses from their own mechas down their spears into Voltron.

    Meanwhile, Darktron continued to clash with the Leon Guardian in brilliant displays of gold and violet light. 

    “Another fine machine of war!” Zarkon declares, knocking aside a lance thrust. He movies in for a decapitating swung, but the Guardian narrowly dodges.

    “But do you know the problem with it!?”

    He swings his sword in an overhead arc, forcing Leon Guardian to block. He swings, once, twice, three times. The golden lance cracks. The Guardian fients for a counter with the weapon, but then swings a high kick for Darktron’s face. Zarkon bats the blow aside and brings the sword down one more time. 

    “It's not VOLTRON!” 

    The lance shatters, and the resulting blast of energy flings the Leon Guardian backwards across the starfield.

    “Almost there…” Luca says, energy continuing to drain into Voltron. On robeasts falls back, spent.

    Darktron turns once more towards Voltron. A pair of robeasts break off and try to slow him. They are batted away like insects. Two more fall limp, energy spent into Voltron. Only Luca remains. Darktron surges forward.

    “Do me a favor, if you all truly wish to save my people…” Luca says. “...win.”

    Her robeast goes limp, energy spent. All five of the paladins bayard slots open.  

Darktron swings.

    The Five Paladins of Voltron slam their bayards into place. A blinding blue light shines out in the cluster. And Darktron’s blade meets it's twin.

    Voltron it it's own Armored Form, locks swords with the Armored Darktron. And while the two great mechas only paused for the barest fraction of a millisecond, it seemed an eternity for those watching. An instant, that could last forever. 

    Keith smirks. 

    “Too late, Zarkon. You’re about to experience something you never have in your entire life: A fair fight.”

     The instant ends.

    Voltron and Darktron seemed to disappear for a moment. They reappear again off to the side, blades clashing in destructive waves of energy. Vanishing and appearing again up above with another clash of swords. So quick their moment, nearly instantaneous to the onlookers. Clash, vanish. Clash, vanish. Waves of destruction, rippling out through the fabric of the reality itself. The universe watches with bated breath. The battle between the two Voltrons, a singularity of war. 

    Matt is the first forced out of the trance, when he thinks to move the Leon Guardian out of the way of one of the destructive waves of light. And with that the universe seems to remember it's still at war with itself.   

    The cluster, lit up once again with the hailstorm of energy-blasts and rains of ion beams. Throughout it all, Voltron and Darktron fight. 

     ***

    Darktron smashes it's blade against Voltron’s shield, sending the other mecha to crash down into a small planet, rupturing it's surface. Lava spews out from the cracks Voltron’s collision left. In a fraction of an instance, Voltron launches itself back up in orbit, pummeling Darktron with its reply: Three strikes in such quick succession that they may as well happen at once.

     Darktron rockets back to smash into the sister-planet of the one it tossed Voltron into. Voltron follows at a blinding rate. A moment after Darktron hits the surface Voltron crashes into it. 

    It grabs the other mecha, dragging it across the planet’s face, ripping up a massive canyon in the ground. Zarkron lets out a mighty bellow and pushes his boosters into overdrive, forcing both mechas back up. They cruise back out into space, still entangled.

    “You need to think bigger children!” Zarkon cackles, “Much bigger!”

    He drives Voltron backwards, towards the nearby sun. The Paladins try to resist, but their strength is equal.

    “He’s got gravity on his side!” Pidge notes.

     Indeed they’re close enough that the sun’s own gravity begins to draw them towards it. They fall deeper into the star’s clutches, entering it's corona, burning hydrogen surrounding them.

    Warnings go off on all screens, Paladins beginning to feel the inconceivable heat even through Voltron’s armor.

    “What’s wrong Zarkon, giving up on winning and just trying to kill us both!?” Keith taunts.

    “No, just betting you die first!” Zarkon barks in reply. 

    The Paladins throw all their power into their throttles, but they can only slow the inevitable. Armor of both mechas glow red in the heat as they sink deeper.

    “There!” Pidge indicates a swelling in the star’s surface. “A coronal mass ejection!”

    The Paladins shift gears, moving their efforts away from resisting Darktron’s push and into diverting their path. Unprepared for the sudden shift in motion, Zarkon is not able to stop them from the sudden change in direction. A burst of pure plasma blasts both mechas far out of the sun’s reach. They tumble, power of the ejection finally disentangling them.

    Voltron is the first to recover, shooting towards it's enemy.

    “Try this on for size!” Lance yells, swinging Voltron’s sword with all his might.   

    The slash catches Zarkron off-guard and sends the mecha soaring back. Voltron follows, making for another slash.

    But nanoseconds before the blow would have landed, Zarkron summons the shoulder-cannon and fires. Voltron takes the blast in full and is forced back by the wave of pure energy. It rockets back, clipping a moon, tearing a sizable chunk off it's surface. Finally Voltron smashes down to the planet the moon orbits, leaving a massive crater.

    Darktron plunges down, sword poised to impale Voltron and pin it down to the surface. Allura activates the harpoon gun and fires. Darktron straits to the side, narrowly missing the harpoon.

    “You missed!” He says with glee, the sword pulled back to land home.

    “Did I!?” Allura replies.

    Zarkron, glances behind him, too late. The moon, speared by Voltron, smashes into Darktron’s back. Voltron barely manages to jet out of the way, as Darktron is crushed between the planet and its moon. Shards of stone the size of cities fly out as the moon is pulverized against its mother planet. A cloud of dust is blown into the atmosphere. Where the moon struck, an ocean of lava bubbles up where the planet’s crust was so thoroughly sundered.

    Darktron lays in that molten sea, still for a moment. It begins to stir. 

Voltron doesn’t give it a chance. It smashes into Darktron, full force.

Both are buried deep into the planet’s mantle, but Voltron isn’t done, blasting it's booster wings to drive them further. They cut through impossibly hot liquid metal, tearing through the core itself. They pass back through the mandle, to smash out the other side of the planet. The two mechas rocket back out into orbit, dripping magma.

    There both pause for a moment. All the Paladins are panting with the exertion of the previous task. Zarkron’s breath comes labored over the comm.

    “Not...bad. But not...good enough.”

    Darktron shakes itself, spraying droplets of magma into space. 

    “This bout...has cost us both much of what we gained.”

    “H-he’s..right.” Pidge pants out in confirmation. “Running low...on power...can’t maintain this armor...too much longer.”

    “So, instead of simply waiting each other out, why don’t we finish this in a more...dramatic location?”   

    With that, Darktron rockets off towards the growing Black Hole. Voltron follows. 

***

    The Leon Guardian shoves another asteroid into the dark maw of the Black Hole. The asteroid quickly breaks up and turns to dust. The light-distorting midnight orb is developing a blazing accretion disk where matter moving too fast to get sucked within the Black Hole collects. 

    “How much more does this thing need?”

    “J-just...a...bit!” Sincline Lotor says, voice strained.

    “That was the last of the larger asteroids.” Coran points out.

    “Hmm…” Matt ponders. “Think we could get enough thrust to move a moon? No, forget that. It would take us too long to speed it up fast enough to break one out of orbit.”

    “Enemy ships?”

    “They’ve all pulled back from the breach by now. They aren’t in full retreat yet, but they might as well be.”

    “I’ve got an idea.” Skriel says, the smile on his face clear through his voice.

    He points.

    “Oooh, I like that idea.”

    The broken World Bane still hovers in orbit of a nearby planet.

    “Ohoho, Ru’vak! I sure hope you installed escape pods in that thing!”

    “Wait what are you…” Ru’vak’s voice pauses over the comm. “...oh stars.”

    “This is for all that cleaning duty you made me do back in basic training!” 

    And with that the Leon Guardian grabs the World Bane and hurls it at the Black Hole. A handful of small pods jettison out before the World Bane reaches the point of no return. It crumbles in on itself, before fracturing into smaller and smaller pieces. It begins to be ripped into atoms, from front to back, as the spaghettification effect does it's dark work. Soon there is nothing, at least nothing that can be perceived by the onlookers, as even the reflected is swallowed by the Black Hole.

    “That...should be enough for n-now!” Lotor says, still blasting with Sincline. The breach is still just barely visible, as a dim scar where what little of it's light and energy can still escape the Black Hole’s appetite. “I can hold it by myself now. Get those last alteans out of there before this thing gets too big!”

    “What about you?”

    “This mecha is still a part of the breach. I need to hold it until the very end.”

    “Oh…”

    “Get them out of there.” Lotor repeats, more forcefully this time.   

    “...alright. Hate to say it but let’s split up, gang.”

    “It was a pleasure fighting together with you all.” Coran says.

    “Until the next time we need to sully our hands by joining with our lessers!” Skriel agrees.

     The Leon Guardian splits back into the Atlas, the Paladin Crusher and the White Lion. One by one they start pulling robeast out of the Array. With each one they pull out the crackling energy of the Array tries harder to keep the robeasts in its grasp. Finally they get to the final ring and the last five robeast. 

    Coran in the White Lion turns back to the robeasts they just pulled free.

    “Are any of you in any kind of shape to help us?” Coran asks.

     After a pause, a pair of them raise shaky arms.

    “Good enough. We’ve got to pull your brothers and sisters out at the same time, or they won’t survive the strain. Matt?”

    “I’ll count us down.”

    The Atlas, Paladin Crusher, White Lion and two robeasts, each grab one of the remaining robeasts from the Array. 

    “Three...two...one...pull!”

    They pull back in opposite directions, crackling energy screaming in protest. Then, with a pop all five are released. The remaining energy, unfiltered, streams down into Sincline.

    “G-g-good…” Lotor says in a shuddering voice. “N-now get them out of h-here…”

    “You got it chief…” Matt says as they all pull back out of range of the Black Hole.

***

    Voltron chases after Darktron, right up to the glowing accretion disk of the Black Hole. There Darktron pulls to a sudden stop, spinning around to face Voltron. It's blade is held out, in a two-handed grip. Voltron skids to a stop a span away. Drawing its own sword and shield. The two stare each other down, as if trying to read the other. 

    They move at the same time. Twin blurs, swinging for each other. They clash in a storm of blades and energy. Bit by bit Voltron focing Darktron back.

    “We’re doing it!” Lance cries out triumphantly.

    “No...he’s baiting us.” Keith.  “Drawing us closer to the Black Hole. Trying to get us to make a mistake.”

As if in answer, Darktron pulls back further, and takes off, shooting down across the top of the Black Hole.

    “The gravity is incredible. If we’re not careful we’ll get sucked in!” Pidge reports.

    “That means we’re pulling back?” Lance asks.

    “...no. Let’s finish this.”

    Voltron and Darktron become twin trails of energy. To onlookers it looks almost as though the Black Hole is forming additional rings. One blue, one violet. The trails disappear just in time for new ones to tear into existence around it. Blinding flashes burst up over the Black Hole, wherever Voltron and Darktron clash. They go faster. 

    Hunk fires the cannon, in an effort to drive Darktron into the Black Hole. he dodges, light of the amazing blast quickly eaten up by the Black Hole. Zarkon tries to hook with it's harpoon, but it's deflected by the sword. They clash again, the force throwing them in opposite directions. They burst back into motion again, lest being dragged in by the gravity.

    Time seems to slow for them, yet becomes impossibly fast for the onlookers. Voltron and Darktron race around the Black hole in opposite directions, gaining speed with each rotation.

    “We’re...almost...out of energy!” Pidge says, forced back against her seat in spite of Voltron’s inertial dampeners.

     “Then...this...is it….everything into this last...swing!”

    They make one last rotation, both mechas driven faster than the speed of light by their metaphysical properties. Voltron sword begins to charge with a blinding blue light. Darktron’s shines it's equal in violet. 

    The Five Paladins of Voltron let out a battle cry in union. Zarkon roars in reply.

    The swords meet.

    Everything goes white.

    Keith blinks, disoriented. He looks down to find that he no longer sits inside his cockpit in Voltron. He stands in a sea of stars, cosmic clouds swirling. Those stars seem impossibly close, both small, yet near enough to touch. They rise above and below him, with a thin strip of darkness separating up from down. He seems to stand on nothing at all. His body has an unnatural glowing hue. 

    “...It has been a very long time since I’ve seen this place.”

    Keith whirls to find Zarkon standing beside him. The Emperor makes no move in reply. He doesn’t even look at Keith, instead staring out at the ethereal realm around them. He glows, same as Keith. 

    “...where are we?” Keith asks, cautiously.

    “A metaphysical plane of existence. It seems our battle knocked us into the realm reserved for Voltron and it's lions. I remember when Alfor first showed me this place.”

    Keith says nothing. Zarkon goes on. 

    “He insisted we all train here. Said it would strengthen our bond both with our lions and as a team. Said that once we master our skills here, we’d be unstoppable as a team inside of Voltron and out. I sometimes miss that naive optimism that I had to tortue out of him. He was right about one thing. This realm is useful.”

    Without warning Zarkon swings a backfist for Keith’s face.

    Anticipating the move, Keith dodges. He does not dodge the kick that follows it. Keith is blasted backwards to tumble across the floor of nothingness. Zarkon leaps into the air, foot poised to crush Keith’s skull on landing. Keith scrambles out of the way, barely in time for Zarkon’s foot to slam down. He leaps to his feet, drawing his bayard into existence. Zarkron summons his own.

    “This realm is honest, boy. Here your power is at its most pure. No giant machines to aid in the fighting. Here, we are men, with strength equal to our own will!”

    Zarkon swings his blade for Keith’s neck, Keith blocks, force of the blow still throwing him backwards. He slides back, nearly falling.

    “I’ll admit, you might have had the slightest chance in Voltron. But here? I’ll crush you the same as before. But this time I’ll kill you, just like that former Paladin of Black.”   

    Keith’s eyes flash with anger and he launches into a series of attacks against Zarkon. The Emperor turns away every single strike, then slams a fist into Keith’s side, tossing him across their celestial arena.

    “Without your Voltron or your lion or you friends to help you, you're nothing! You’re alone!” Zarkon bellows, charging after Keith.

    Keith meets his charge and their blades lock together. For a moment they struggle against each other. But Zarkon soon drives Keith backwards, step by step. He forces his weight down on Keith, dropping him to one knee. Zarkon grins with satisfaction. 

    Keith looks up and smiles back.

    “But that’s what you never understood, Zarkon. It’s not about what you can do alone. Voltron is about what you can do together. It's about trusting the people around you enough for them to be your arms and legs. And you’re wrong about one other thing…” He closes his eyes and begins to focus for a moment. 

    A blast of energy hits Zarkon the back, causing him to stumble. Keith uses the opportunity to force Zarkon off-balance, and swings, nearly taking his head off. Zarkon leaps back, and whirls looking for the source of the surprise attack.

    Lance stands behind, rifle held in a confident grip. Grin on his face.

    “...I'm not alone.” Keith finally says.

    “Man, Keith, do I always gotta be the one to  pull your butt out of the fire?”

    Lance starts peppering Zarkon with shots, while Keith advances on him. The Emperor is forced to shift his bayard into it's shield mode to block Lance’s shots, while dodging and batting away Keith’s attacks with his freehand. Keith scores a cut under Zarkon’s shoulder.

    “If I can be here, that means the other Paladins can too!” Keith says, “We’ve got a connection, all of us, through Voltron!”

    Zarkon kicks Keith backwards, then shifts his bayard into a cannon to fire at Lance. He howls in pain as green electricity surges through him. Pidge has planted her bayard behind his knee. 

    “Hope that stings.” She says.

He spins, trying to backhand her, but Keith barrels into Zarkton, shoving him into a stumble. Lance lands another shot on Zarkon’s shoulder, causing him to twist and fall to one knee.

     The three paladins advance on him. Zarkon shifts his bayard into it's bladed whip form and cracks it at them. He grazes Lance, misses Pidge, and Keith blocks with his blade. He cracks it again, tangling it around Keith’s sword.

    “You think a couple extra bodies will save you!? I’m Zarkon! Three children are nothing to me!” He jerks on the whip, pulling Keith to his knees.

    A blast slams into Zarkon’s back throwing him to the floor of nothingness. Hunk hefts his cannon. “Count again.”

    Zarkon leaps to his feet, shifting his bayard into a cannon. He blasts Hunk, forcing him to shift into shield. The blast still knocks him off his feet. Then Zarkon shifts back to whip and flings it at Pidge, who’d been aiming her own bayard at him. Lance steps in front, knocking the whip aside with a stroke of his sword. Pdige smiles, firing her bayard’s tethered blade at Zarkon. Zarkon shifts back to sword to block and leaps at them.

     Keith and Lance meet his charge, swinging their blades against Zarkon’s. They clash in a series of quick precise blows.

    “You can call us children, or weak, or useless. But the fact is, we’re a team, Zarkon. And that makes us strong. Because we’ve got each other.”

    Keith and Lance lock Zarkon’s blade with their own and together manage to force him back a step.    

    Keith narrows his eyes. “Who do you have Zarkon?” 

    Zarkon bellows with rage and throws a knee into Lance’s gut, then grabs hold of Keith to throw him into Hunk, who was preparing to fire another blast. Both go down. Zarkon raises his blade to bring down on Lance. 

    Allura’s energy whip wraps around the blade, pulling it back before it can fall. He snarls and tries to yank her towards him, but she shifts the bayard into a spear and charges him.

    “Lance, Pidge, Hunk, Allura. They’re my arms and legs. And I’m the head. I’ve got them and they’ve got me.” Keith explains, launching himself at Zarkon again. “Who’s got you, Zarkon?”

    “It doesn’t matter!” Zarkon growls, forming his bayard into an oversized gauntlet. “I need no one!” 

    He smashes the gauntlets down, sending a shockwave that knocks the paladins off their feet. He then throws himself at Keith. 

    Keith is back on his feet just in time to block a swing of Zarkon’s sword. The two struggle against each other once more.   

     “Unlike me, no one’s coming to help you, Zarkon. You’ve got no one. You did, but you drove them all away!”

    “Shut up!” Zarkon throws a punch, but Keith twists, and the effect is negligible.

    “You turned on every person who ever cared about and trusted you. Because you thought you didn’t need them. You used them, then cast them aside. Because you thought you were stronger alone.”

    “I am stronger alone! Stronger than all of you!”

Zarkon lets out a roar and by force of will shoves Keith back. He raises his blade to deliver a killing blow.

“...no, Zarkon. You aren’t.”

Lance slips to the side, slicing Zarkon’s arm. Zarkon’s attack goes wild, missing Keith. He tries to whirl on Lance, but Pidge’s tethered blade wraps around his other arm and pulls him off balance. Hunk leaps forward, swinging his hammer for Zarkon’s head. Zarkon managed to divert the blow to his shoulder, one leg going out under him. Allura knocks out the other leg with her spear. Zarkon, on his knees, faces Lance, Pidge, Hunk and Allura lunging for him. In an explosive burst of willpower, he manages to swing his sword in a powerful wide arc, that forces all four of them backwards. But their efforts provided all the opening Keith needs.

    He slips under the swing, and thrusts forward with his bayard. He buries the blade in Zarkon’s chest. 

Zarkon lets out a surprised gasp.

    “There’s one other person I haven’t mentioned yet. Someone who was always there for me,” Keith says, twisting the blade. “The man you killed. His name was Shiro. And this bayard belonged to him!”

    With that Keith rips the bayard free. Zarkon screams.

    Everything goes white again.

    Darktron’s blade shatters. Voltron’s sword carries through, cutting through the armor, to the mecha below, and further.

    Darktron’s armor shatters, and the mecha itself breaks, splintering into five lions, all shooting in different directions from the explosiveness of the separation. Black flies backwards, towards the Black hole, with a terrible rent gut that bleeds violet quintessence.

    “I...lost!?” Zarkon chokes on the word, violet blood flying from his mouth. Zarkon clutches his chest, the pain of the invisible wound searing him. “N-not possible! I-I-I c...can’t...l…”The words die on his lips.

    The Black Hole seems to surge, growing ever so slightly larger. The Black Lion descends towards it's dark embrace.   

    “N-NO!” Zarkon yells in defiance, forcing his lion to fight against the pull. He only slows the inevitable. “I do not die here! It doesn’t end here for Emperor Zarkon!”   

    With a surge of all the strength he has left, Zarkon summons the wings of his lion. 

    Before he can activate them, Alfor’s lion smashes into his, driving them both downward towards the void below.

    “NO! Alfor you fool! You’ll kill us both!”

    “I know.” Alfor replies, striking a weak smile.    

Allura, watching the two descend cries out. 

    “Father!”

Voltron begins to move forward but shudders, lurching awkwardly.

“It's too much!” Keith says. “If we get any closer we won't be able to get out!”

Alfor gazes over at Voltron, then closes his eyes and his body begins to take on a blue glow.

“No!” Allura yells, summoning the harpoon gun. “I have to-”

She blinks. When her eyes open she is standing in a field of juniberry flowers. On altea. She looks around, amazed. Alfor stands across from her, smiling down at the flowers.

    “F-father...what is this?”

    “Just a vision, I’m afraid. Altea as I remember it.” He studies the flowers for a moment before looking up at her. 

    “But you aren’t as I remember…you’ve grown. As beautiful as I remember but...stronger.”

    She smiles, but it is pained.

    “Father please, let me help you. I’ve only just gotten you back. I don’t…” her voice cracks. “I don’t know if I can lose you one more time.”

    “I know it's cruel. But at the same time, I am unbelievably grateful to have seen the woman you’ve grown into. I only wish your mother could see you…”

    “Please!” She begs. “It doesn’t have to end like this. We could still-”

    “Allura.” He says softly. “Don’t risk yourself and Voltron to try and save me. I had my time in the universe. Now I just have one thing left to you: Make sure Zarkon doesn’t hurt anyone ever again.” 

He grins.

    “You on the other hand, have quite a lot to do.”

    She stares at her feet. “The alteans...I don’t know if I can lead them without you. I’ve been so lost. I don’t know if I can be as good a ruler as you were.”

    “Then don’t.”

    She raises her eyes, surprised.

    “Be better. I made countless mistakes. Learn from them and be better. I know you’ll be a great queen.”

    She hesitates, but then straightens her back and nods firmly. Her eyes begin to well up. 

    He smiles, reaching up to touch her face. She smiles back, well and truly this time. Then she grabs him in an embrace. The two of them stay like that for an eternal moment. Finally, they separate and Alfor stands back, getting one last look at his daughter.

    “Well, it's time I finally joined your mother.”

    She swallows hard, but nods. “I love you, papa.”

    “And I love you, my little juniberry…”

    The vision fades, and Allura is once again in her lion. She stares down at the quickly vanishing lions of her father and Zarkon. Tears stream down her face.

    Voltron lets out a tremor. The two lions disappear.

    “Allura? Keith says, voice strained. “Either take the shot or…”

    She shoots one last look at where her father’s lion used to be and dismisses the harpoon gun

    “...let’s go.”

    Keith nods, slowly, understanding. Then, all five paladins throw forward their throttles, and Voltron jets away from the Black Hole.

    Below, Zarkon screams in protest.

“Alfor listen to me! You’re throwing everything away! We could start over! You’ll be my right hand this time! You can be with your daughter! I-”

    “-Zarkon.” Alfor cuts him off..

    Something in his voice silences the Emperor. 

    “We’ve both lived long enough.”   

    Those simple words take what little strength Zarkon has left away from him. He slumps back back, and lets out a sigh that sounds almost relieved. His lion continues to bleed quintessence. 

    “...I should have known it would be you to finally kill me.”

    “Would you have it any other way?”

    Zarkon considers. 

    “No...old friend. No I wouldn’t.”

    Silence overtakes the two. 

Zarkon surprises Alfor by breaking it. 

    “Do you suppose...out there in the multiverse, there’s a reality where it didn’t come to all this? Where the two of us never crossed swords, and instead built a stronger universe together?”

    Alfor smiles weakly. “You know I do.”

    And Zarkon smiles too, without a trace of malice or deceit. 

“So then, in the end, I even failed in that regard. Despite everything I still couldn’t kill that optimism of yours after all.”

    Alfor laughs. “I guess not. I just...forgot it for a time.”

    The two lions tremble, cracking under the tremendous force exerted upon them. 

    Zarkon closes his eyes. “And so it ends, Alfor.”

    Alfor closes his eyes as well. “Stardust to stardust...old friend…” 

    And then the Black and Blue lions are torn apart, turned to dust before finally being sucked away by the singularity of the Black Hole.

***

    Lotor blasts the breach, the dim scar now barely visible, the energy feeding back into him, barely a trickle. Still he blasts it, feeding all the energy he can into it. As this happens, he watches a static-filled image of Voltron’s struggle with Darktron. Finally, there is the blinding flash of light, followed by Darktron’s destruction. And still he watches as the Dark Black and Blue lions disappear into darkness. 

    He smiles.

    “So they did it after all….”

The Black Hole surges, widening. The scar of the breach, overwhelmed by the darkness, finally disappears, overcome. The rings of the Array are pulled off one by one, then finally ripped apart, swallowed by hungry shadows. 

    He lets out a relieved sight. 

Sincline drops its arms, energy spent. It starts to descend deeper into the Black Hole. it's armor begins to tremble. Lotor makes no move to stop this. He leans back in his chair and closes his eyes, as if about to rest.

“-Lotor!” A static-filled voice crackles over the radio.

He sits up, looking annoyed. He brings up the display. A grainy image of a Coalition fighter cruising through the Black Hole’s accretion disk. A feed of Acxa’s face pops up next to it.

“Lotor, you need to get out of there!”

He smiles slightly, but shakes his head.

“My work here is done. The breach has been turned in on itself. Zarkon is dead. The alteans know the truth. The universe is safe. This...this is how it ends for me.”

    “You idiot!”

    He's slightly taken aback by the reply.

    “You really think I’m just gonna let you die like that? After everything we’ve been through!?”

    “It's...better this way. Besides, Sincline is almost completely spent. I’m not sure if I could get out if I wanted to.”

    “So you’re just going to call it quits!? Give up? That’s how the great Lotor dies?”

    “The universe doesn’t need me anymore. Maybe it never did. This way at least, I can pay for my sins.”

    “Then pay for them by living! Dying is the easy way out!”

    He winces at that. “...maybe it is. If so...well, I guess I’m being selfish one last time. I won’t have to feel guilty about it for very long.”

    Acxa is silent for a moment. “...I have someone else here with me. If I can’t convince you...maybe she can.”

    Lotor has a confused look, when suddenly there is a flash of light inside his cockpit.

    Haggar stands in front of him.

    “Hello son.”

    He scowls. 

    “Come here to try and twist me to your schemes one final time?”

    “...no.”

    He raises a skeptical brow. She sighs.

    “I know I've been a poor parent to you. I can’t help but think that many of your mistakes would not have been made if I’d been a better mother to you. If I’d shielded you from the brunt of Zarkon’s cruelty.”

    Lotor hesitates but shakes his head. “No. My mistakes are my own.”

    After a moment she nods.

    “So...why are you here?” 

    “To give you a choice, for once. You’ve always seen me as a force to twist you and bind you to my will. But here I’ll simply give you the options and whatever you choose I will respect.”

    “Go on.”

    “I can save you. Pull you out of here, and we’ll fly away in Acxa’s ship. Ask me and I’ll do it.”

    “To what end?”

    “To whatever end you wish. I’m done with plots and plans. I just want to preserve you from this fate.”

    “And if I refuse?”

    She lets out a sigh. “Then though it will pain me beyond belief, I will respect your wish. I owe you that much.”

    “And what will you do after I perish?”

    She shakes her head. “I plan to stand here with you. I’m not going to live in a world without my son. I’ve already lost everything else that ever mattered to me.”

    He stares at her. She stares back. Sincline’s armor trembles again. 

    He finally closes his eyes. Haggar nods, taking this as a sign of his decision.

    “...alright.”

    She straightens. He looks up at her.

    “Please save me...mother.”

    Her eyes widen. Then she cracks a wide smile. She leans down and hugs him. And though hesitant and stiffly, eventually he hugs her back. They disappear in a flash. 

    Moments later, Sincline is swallowed by the Black Hole, all traces of it gone forever. 

***

    The Paladins of Voltron watch the Black Hole give one final surge before finally stabilizing, feeding now on the streams of plasma given off by the nearby stars. It hangs there, a distorted black spot on the universe, surrounded by blinding light.

    “All enemy forces have thrown up surrender codes!” Matt reports with glee.

    Keith sits back and smiles. “It's over...we won.”

    There is a cheer, not just from the other Paladins, but the whole of the Coalition. From humans, galra, alteans and countless other species. 

Keith lets out no cheer himself, content to sit there with a tired smile on his face. Eventually he shakes himself and sits up.

    “Alright everyone! There’s just a few things left to take care of…”

    Stay tuned for the finale...

[snappedsky]

Fanatics 79

A mysterious threat is making it's way towards Earth, and the Battalion have to work fast to destroy it.

*Links to previous and next chapter in reblog*

--

Trouble through the Milky Way

           Pluto. An adorable, little planet beloved by many on its far off neighbor, Earth. It floats quietly in its cold, dark orbit around the sun, minding its own business.

           Then it’s blown to bits.

           A small ship flies by. It would be nondescript, if it weren’t for the giant plasma cannon grafted to its underside.

           A few lightyears away, Lard Kio watches the vessel through her distance viewfinder on the Resisty ship. She immediately calls Zim.

           On Earth, the sun is just barely peeking over the horizon. Zim is sleeping lightly in his bed when a beeping sounds through his base.

           “Master,” the Computer says while Zim’s eye cracks open. “You are receiving a call from Kio.”

           “Transfer it to my phone,” Zim orders as he sits up and grabs his cell phone. He answers the call and Kio’s face appears on screen.

           “Zim, we got a big problem,” she says sternly.

           He listens intently as she quickly explains the situation.

           An hour later, Dib, Gaz, Tak, and Pepito gather sleepily in Zim’s lab- except for Tak, who is wide awake.

           “There better be a good reason for waking me up before 6,” Gaz growls.

           “There is,” Zim replies from his chair at the main computer. “Pluto has been destroyed.”

           “No! Not Pluto!” Pepito cries in distress.

           “What could destroy Pluto?” Dib asks.

           “Not ‘what’. ‘Who’,” Zim explains as he pushes a button on the keyboard. A blurry image of a small grey ship with a disproportionately large cannon appears on the screen. “We’re not sure who they are, but they appear to be heading straight for the Earth. And with firepower like that, they can cause a lot of damage to the planet. At their current rate of speed, they will arrive by tomorrow morning. But because we do not know the range of their cannon, we have to assume we have less time than that. We have to stop them before they can get close.”

           “How do we do that?” Pepito asks.

           “Can we use the Epic?” Gaz suggests.

           “It doesn’t have any weapons yet,” Zim replies, “and going up against a ship in space without our own vehicle is just plain stupid.”            “So we gotta stop it from the surface,” Dib muses, “do we have any weapons that’ll work?”

           “I have an Irken Surface Cannon at my base,” Tak replies, “I just don’t have any mortar shells for it.”

           Dib rubs his chin with consideration. “Can you load it with other things?”

           “If they fit properly, sure.”

           “Then what about…the Blissful?”

           “The Blissful?” Gaz scoffs, “you mean that giant bomb you, Tak, Squee, and Maddie made for that science fair a couple years ago?”

           “Yeah,” Dib replies, “presumably it should be incredibly powerful.”

           “Presumably,” Tak repeats emphatically, “we were never able to test it.”

           “But it is highly unstable,” he points out.

           “You say that like it’s a good thing,” Pepito grimaces.

           “Shouldn’t we tell Squee first before we try to use it?” Gaz suggests.

           “That would be the polite thing to do,” he agrees, “I wonder what he’s doing right now.”

--

           Squee is fast asleep in his bed, his face pressed into the pillow. Beside him, Nugget is also asleep, her claws restlessly kneading Squishy Pete.

--

           “There’s no time to call Squee,” Zim points out, “what if he doesn’t answer? We can’t wait for a response. We have to act now.”

           “Fine,” Tak groans, “where is it?”            “I helped put it in Squee’s basement,” he replies, “it should still be there. We will have to remove it and transport it to Tak’s base.”

           “So we have to get into Squee’s house,” Pepito’s states, “I think Devi has a key so she can clean while they’re away.”

           “We need to work fast,” Zim declares, “let’s go.”

           They leave quickly and fly the Epic across the city to Devi’s building. After setting down in the parking lot, they hurry up to her apartment and knock until she answers, looking none too pleased.

           “Ugh, it’s you guys,” she groans, rubbing her tired eyes.

           “Hi, Devi,” Pepito waves, “sorry but this is an emergency.”

           “What is it?” she asks impatiently.

           “We need into Squee’s house,” Dib replies, “you have a key, right?”

           “Yeah, hang on,” she says and ducks back into her apartment. She comes back after a few seconds with a single, bronze key. “Here. Just give it back to me later.”

           “Thank you,” Pepito chimes and they hurry away as Devi closes the door.

           Wasting no time, they fly over to Squee’s house and park at the curb. They rush up to the front walk and use the key.

           The kids stand uneasily on the front step as the door loudly creaks open. It seems to echo ominously throughout the dark house, the early morning sun barely filtering through the boarded-up windows.

           “Wow,” Dib comments, “this place is uh…kinda creepy without Squee here.”

           “Let’s just get into the basement and get the bomb,” Zim orders and steps into the house. He freezes, a chill shooting up his spine. He suddenly has the feeling that he shouldn’t be here. But he quickly shakes it off and glares at the others. “Let’s go. Hurry up.”

           Zim marches through the living room and Tak, Dib, Gaz, and Pepito quickly but cautiously follow. As they head to the hallway, they’re all constantly glancing around warily. They’ve been to a lot of haunted locations before but somehow this feels worse. Not haunted exactly, just…forbidden.

           They finally reach the basement door and Zim pushes it open. It creaks open even slower than the front door did, revealing a much darker room.

           “Where’s the light?” Gaz asks.

           “There isn’t one,” Zim replies as an electric torch pops out of his PAK, illuminating the area. It’s a completely empty room with a sudden drop near the opposite wall. Zim points to it. “The bomb is down there. I remember Johnny and Squee bringing me down there.”

           They quickly cross the empty room and peer over the gap. There’s just a ladder leading down into more darkness.

           “Right,” Tak grunts and nods at Zim. “After you.”

           Zim glares at her for a second before descending the ladder. One by one, the others follow.

           It’s only a couple feet to the bottom floor and they all look around as they hop off the ladder. They’re in another mostly empty room that leads to a large hallway, lit by flickering, fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling. Somewhere down the ladder, the normal drywall of the house changed to cement blocks that make up the entirety of the hallway. There are stains on the walls and floor that the kids try to ignore as Zim points to the only object in the room.

           “There it is,” he says.

           The Blissful: a giant, round, silver bomb with a purple smiley face with closed eyes painted on it. Five feet in diameter and over 150 pounds, it is practically just a container sloshing with volatile, explosive liquid.

           “It should fit in my cannon,” Tak says, “now, how do we get it out?”

           “The same way I got it in,” Zim replies as he extends his spider legs. Using lasers, they cut out a large section of the ceiling and set it aside, creating a hole to the surface. The kids are all slightly relieved to see sunlight.

           “Tak, you stay down here while I-,” Zim starts to explain before he’s cut off.

           “Why do I have to stay in the creepy basement?” Tak snaps.

           “What, are you scared?” he jeers.

           “Of course not.”

           “Then stay down here while I lift everyone out,” Zim orders, “once I’m out, you’ll help me lift the bomb up to the surface and Dib can bring the Epic around.”

           “Fine,” she huffs and eyes the spooky hallway. “Just…be quick.”

           Dib, Gaz, and Pepito hold onto Zim’s spider legs as he lifts them all up to the surface. Then he crouches next to the hole and lowers his spider legs down.

           “Okay, Tak, gently lift the bomb and pass it to me,” he demands.

           She seems to ignore him as she stares suspiciously down the hall.

           “Tak,” he says louder.

           “What?” she questions, looking at him. “Oh. Right.”

           Using her spider legs, Tak gently lifts the Blissful and passes it to Zim. He carefully lifts it through the hole and rests it on the ground.

           “Alright, Dib get the car,” Zim orders. Dib nods and quickly hurries around the houses back to the street. “Tak, let’s go.”      

           Again, she doesn’t reply. She just stares down the hallway, her eyes narrowing.

           “Tak!” Zim snaps but she doesn’t hear him.

           Far down the hall, a bloodied hand slaps down on the floor just barely in view, clawing at the stone. An inhuman groan echoes off the walls.

           Tak’s eyes widen and her spider legs shoot up, hoisting her out of the hole.

           “Seal it, hurry,” she orders frantically.

           Not knowing what she saw, Zim is slightly taken aback, but nevertheless he obliges. He quickly picks up the section of the ground and slips it back into its hole.

           With the basement sealed off, everyone suddenly feels more at ease, and they heave a heavy sigh.

           “Okay. Let’s agree to never go down there again,” Gaz says and everyone nods.

           After Dib comes around with the Epic, Tak looks at Zim and asks, “now what?”

           “Now is the really tricky part,” Zim replies, “you and I are gonna have to ride on the roof and hold the Blissful steady while Dib flies to your place.”

           “Good luck with that,” Pepito comments as he and Gaz get into the car. Then Zim and Tak climb onto the roof. With their bottom two spider legs, they hold onto the vehicle while the top two hold the Blissful in between themselves.

           “Okay, Dib, take it slow and steady,” Zim orders.

           Dib carefully raises the Epic into the sky and flies slowly over the buildings. Everyone is tense during the ride. If they drop the bomb, it could very well decimate the city. Dib just tries to focus on keeping the car steady and hopes a bird doesn’t fly into them.

           Thankfully, they reach Tak’s base with incident and Dib parks on the curb. Everyone gets out while Zim and Tak carefully lower the Blissful to the ground.

           “Alright, ready up your cannon,” Zim orders.

           “Already on it,” Tak replies as she grabs a remote from her PAK and pushes a button.

           The roof of her house folds up as a giant, silver gun rises up on a tall pedestal. In front of the gun is seat with a monitor and control panel. Tak pushes another button on the remote and a space opens up at the bottom of the pedestal, just big enough for the Blissful.

           “Let’s load it up,” Tak says and they shove the big bomb inside and seal the door. As it rises up the pedestal and loads into the cannon, she climbs up to the monitor and sits in the chair. Zim quickly follows her and hangs off the side to watch, leaving Dib, Gaz, and Pepito to stare up at them.

           “Okay, just have to find the ship,” Tak muses. As she searches through coordinates on the control panel, the monitor displays different parts of space until finally landing on the familiar, grey ship.

           “They’ve blasted a hole into Jupiter!” Zim cries, “we have to hurry.”

           “Locking on,” Tak says and a crosshairs appears over the ship on the monitor. “Let’s hope this works.”

           She hits the big, red ‘FIRE’ button and a loud *boom* echoes over the city as the Blissful is shot out. The kids watch it fly into the sky until it disappears.

           It breaks through the atmosphere, the friction causing its volatile fluids to heat up, and flies through space at an extremely high velocity. The passengers on the ship just barely see it coming.

           The explosion can be seen from Earth as a star that lights up then quickly dies out. The Battalion immediately erupt into cheers, jumping up and punching the air.

           “I can’t believe that actually worked,” Gaz remarks.

           “I knew it would!” Dib grins.

           “I cannot wait to tell Squee about this,” Pepito exclaims.

           While they celebrate, Zim and Tak watch the explosion on the monitor, satisfied with the smoke that fills the screen. But as they start to hop off, Tak notices something.

           “Wait,” she says, “something’s happening.”

           Zim looks back at the screen just in time to see five objects exit the smoke.

           “The passengers survived,” he snarls.

           “They must’ve used escape pods,” Tak exclaims as they look up at the sky.

           Dib, Gaz, and Pepito don’t realize right away that something’s wrong until Gaz notices the Irkens. “Something’s wrong,” she says.

           They all look up and watch for something. For a second, nothing happens. And then they see five things appear in the sky.

           “They’ve broken through the atmosphere!” Zim exclaims.

           They watch the objects plummet like tiny particles in the distance, each landing in a different spot. Then Zim and Tak jump to the ground.

           “We got an alien invasion,” Zim declares, “one of them seemed to have landed not far from the city. If we leave now, we might catch them.”

           The others nods and they quickly clamber into the Epic and take off. Zim flies them quickly towards the site of the closest crash. As they near it, they spot a plume of smoke.

           A small, round pod has crashed into field just outside the city, causing a small crater. The Epic lands and the Battalion hops out, weapons at the ready, just as the hatch opens.

           Out tumbles a short, black alien with a pair of large, compound eyes and four spider-like legs. She hasn’t noticed the Battalion yet as she coughs and picks herself up.

           “Hey, I know you!” Pepito exclaims, “it’s Uu!”

           The alien looks up at them in surprise before crying out in an alien language. She attempts to scramble back into the pod, but Zim’s and Tak’s spider legs lash out and grab her. They hold her overhead, and she glares at them.

           “You’re one of Carcas’ soldiers,” Zim says.

           Gaz groans exhaustedly as she rests a hand on her hip. “I hope Squee’s at least having a good day.”

--

           Most mornings start early in Cammie’s house; especially when the smell of waffles is wafting down the hall. Everyone quickly gathers in the kitchen as Squee readies their breakfast.

           “I hope they’re good,” he says as they dig in.

           “So good,” Johnny chimes with a mouthful.

           “Crispy outside, fluffy inside,” Cammie remarks.

           “You should do the cooking more often,” Thomas comments.

           The Night Terrors are too busy quickly stuffing their faces to say anything, which is complimentary enough.

           Squee beams happily before sitting down to enjoy his own breakfast.

[thursdayplaid]

2021 Writing Challenge

January 1, 2021

The Galactic Union's general policy on interacting with less advanced planetary cultures was not to do it.  There was even a list they had to memorize that measured everything from majority use of pollution free energy to extra-planetary travel and sustained resource sharing.  The policy was more than fine when it came to dissuading someone from indulging in colonialism.  It was less helpful when facing the inexplicable powers of the universe and also Vulusian raiders.  Everyone on the command center knew what they needed to do.  Half their ship was debris floating through space and most of their crew were floating with the debris.

Captain ""-'/ leaned forward in his containment brace, tendrils floating forward in agitation.  The electronic voice from their brace cut through the chaos of the command center. "Operator Abicor divert all energy to the engines.  Navigator Hu-llui, set a jump point for planet 726 and then cut all power and go into a drift orbit.  Operator Baldwin, set the shuttle to jump in the opposite direction."

Anna got started programming in coordinates to the shuttle interface.  There must be a panel breached somewhere, she was having to go in the back way through transmission.

There was a flash of bright light through the front view as the raiders hit them off the bow with a surge beam.  Hu'llui's console exploded in a wave of purple sparks that sent the Kuidon flying backwards head over claws knocking sideways into Anna.  Their face was burnt, smearing ichor and venom across her chest and down the arm of her uniform.  Dr. Li'Jeen unbuckled herself to dash over next to them and Dvora abandoned her post at the communications console to snag an insulator and spray down the exposed under wiring.

Anna's fingers moved over her own console to shift windows.  "Transferring navigation controls now."

Captain ""-'/ leaned forward in his containment brace, tendrils floating forward in agitation.  The electronic voice from their brace cut through the chaos of the command center. "Energy levels?"

"We don't have enough energy to maintain engines and force fields," Abicor rumbled.  "The hull breaches have been sealed, force fields are unnecessary at this point."

"Drop shields and jump when ready," the captain said.

Dr. Li'Jeen spun out webbing to strap down Hu'llui down then leaned forward to brace her fellow Kuidon with her body.

"Shuttle ready!" Anna called out.

"Jump commencing!" Abicor replied.

There was a moment of perfect jump, the light flashed on Anna's console announcing a successful shuttle launch and then everything was burning.  Anna was airbourne, her arm jerking in a way that was going to feel like fire and brimstone later.  Abicor reached up with one great paw and caught her around the middle, tucking her against his furry body.  They weren't going to be able to enter drift orbit.

Tendrils moving over the command controls, Captain ""-'/ seemed to have taken over navigation.  They jolted out of the path of one of the moons and into a tailspin.  The ship hit atmo like a watermelon hitting cement.  Two of Abicor's claws popped loose from where he'd tried to anchor them against the wall.  The captain jolted inside his brace, something shuddering inside his floating core then his tendrils lost all focus and just floated.  The side of of Captain ""-''s head - if it could be called that - started slowly turning from its gossamer semi-transparent pink to a deep opaque purple.

Dr. Li'Jeen cursed, twisting where she was propped over Hu'llui to sling out a line of webbing to stick to the captain's brace and reel him in.  When she had pulled him in she slung her leg over the brace to hold him in place and stuck some kind of instrument into the spreading mass of purple, there was a burst of dark liquid and the captain's tendril's jerked.  Her mandibles shifted and she curled over the captain's body.

There was another flash of light from jump space and suddenly everything went dark.

She woke, laying on thick purple grass.  When she looked down at herself, lifting arms and legs, her leg was in a stabilizer but there wasn't any pain, although the fang marks in her upper thigh may have had something to do with the warm numbness filling her body.

“Dvora!” she called out.

There was a thump, and Dr. Li'Jeen leaned over her.  "Stop yelling.  The locals found the ship as one might when a ship crash lands in their nest."

"Is it just the two of us?" Anna asked.  She couldn't move her head.  She wasn't sure if that was injury or the venom she was enjoying.

"Abicor is resting in a cave, Hu'llui entered a healing hibernation, I can't tell if the Captain is alive because his brace is broken, none of us are telepaths, and his species doesn't decompose. I had Dvora a build a containment field  for a birthing pond in case he's still alive and begins strobilation.  Dvora is busy with the containment field.  How are you feeling?"

"Numb," she said.  "I suspect that's the venom."

Her mandibles shifting inside her mouth.  "Yes, that's the venom.  You're looking a bit foggy."

Anna woke up again to Dvora snapping a chameleon band around her wrist.  "Hey," she murmured.  There was feeling coming back into her body in slow lapping waves.  It looked like a mammalian dwelling, too wide open for a burrowing species or a web weaver, too dry for a crab or amphibian, too enclosed to be an avian.  The walls were cut wood instead of a cave or stone bricks, which she was fairly sure implied a certain level of technological development and it felt terrifyingly vulnerable to be laying there not knowing where she was.  Except Dvora was there, that was something.

Dvora poked around on the band and a ripple floated over her body and her skin turned a misty lavender.  "There's a merchant town nearby.  Since the doctor and I are the only able body folks who don't stick out like a sore thumb and she needed to stay here to make sure that the lot of you didn't die while she was looking away.  The area appears fairly pre-industrial, some manufacturing, no petroleum products, no circuitry I could retrofit for repairs, and no idea what landed in their back yard."

"Are we in trouble?" Anna asked.

Dvora pressed a couple buttons on her own band, "Not as long as we're purple."

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

March 15th

Master List

**Before you read this, I gotta say, this is my favorite story I wrote this year, it was so much fun to write and I really hope you like it!**

“Incoming mail ship.” Wonpil’s head shot up so fast, he smacked it on the duct he was repairing. “Ship docking in port 14. Let’s remain calm this time folks, the captain doesn’t want any more incident reports before we get home.” At the sound of his friend’s voice over the intercom, Wonpil, let go of the screwdriver he was holding, letting it float next to the open duct cover. 

“Chan, I’m expecting a package, and it’s super important.” 

“From your wife, right?” The younger man inquired, kicking off from the wall to propel himself towards his superior. Wonpil can’t help the grin on his face. 

“Yeah, I got a transmission from her a month ago saying she sent me something, so I’m expecting it soon.” Both men grinned at this. “So I’ve gotten the last of the wiring soldered, but I need you to recoat it, troubleshoot and run a final diagnostics, and if I’m not back by the time that’s done, put the panel back in place and send me the reports.” Chan salutes, a cheesy grin on his face. 

“Yes sir, take your time boss.” Wonpil nods, moving to the closed door at the end of the hall. 

“Sector 113, gravity activated.” Both boys boots thump onto the floor, followed by the clank of multiple tools. Wonpil leaves the corridor quickly, turning the gravity back off and gives Chan one more salute before making his way to the ports. 

The I.S.S Moonrise was the first ship of its kind, a high tech, orbital colony floating in the vastness of space, just past the edge of the Milky Way, a months journey from most of the inhabitant’s home planet of Earth. Wonpil was one of the lucky ones, only on the station for 18 months, 20, if you include the 2 months of travel to get there and back. As the current head of engineering, he got a lot more free reign of the station than most of its inhabitants, which were a mix of scientists, farmers, and historians. 

“Paging Kim Wonpil, where are you Pil?” The voice over his comms made him roll his eyes. 

“Why are you using the comms to annoy me, Jae?”

“First of all, it’s hyung.” 

“No one’s used that term in almost 50 years, give it a rest.” 

“Then it’s lieutenant.” The man whined. 

“Then you should be calling me Chief Engineer,” Wonpil retorted, opening the hangar doors. 

“Whatever, look Jihyo won't let me grab your package for you.” Wonpil felt like vibrating as he made his way to the group surrounding the mailing ship. 

“No need, I’m right here.” The crowd opens for him to walk through, most either recognizing Wonpil, or the silver stripes on his uniform. He’s shocked to find Jihyo holding a package, as captain of the Hermes, she usually remained in the cockpit while Chaeyoung and Tsuyu handled the mail. 

“I could have delivered it to him, Jihyo.” Jae whines, flipping through the letters he’d received, no doubt from his parents and sister. 

“No can do, Y/n made me promise this box would go from my hand to his.” She punctuated her sentence by placing the small box in Wonpil’s outstretched hand. 

“She came in person then?” Jihyo nodded, grinning as he signed for the mail.

“And she also wanted me to give you this.” She leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, making his face flush red. 

“Aish,” He huffed, hiding his burning face behind his hands as those around them laughed. 

“Come on kid, the Captain asked us to join him for lunch.” Jae slung his arm over Wonpil’s shoulder, though the smaller man simply knocked it away from him, turning back to Jihyo. 

“I’m actually sending something today,” He told her, pulling a small box from his pocket. “Make sure she gets it okay?” 

“No problem.” Jihyo nodded, “Want me to give her a kiss for you?” Wonpil couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. 

“No, we’ll save those for when I get home.” 

“See you in two months, Wonpil.” 

“See you then, Ji.” He saluted the woman, before finally letting Jae lead him to Sungjin’s office. Wonpil decided to open the package during lunch, knowing full well that Brian and Dowoon would want to know what you had sent him. 

“Good afternoon Lieutenant Park, Chief Kim.” The robotic voice greeted as the two entered the spacious room Sungjin and the other two boys were sitting in. 

“Nothing is as beautiful as a sunset on Earth, the west coast of America has the best views,” Brian told the youngest boy, who shook his head. 

“No chance, Olympian sunsets are better,” Dowoon argued. Brian turned to his best friend and eternal roommate. 

“Jae, which is better, West Coast Sunsets or Olympian sunsets?” Jae shrugged, dropping into his seat next to him. 

“Never been to Olympia, so I say West Coast.” 

“What about you, Jin?” The Captain paused mid-bite, to sigh. 

“I didn’t want to be brought into this argument. You argue Earth vs Mars every week.” He grumbled. 

“Then I will end the argument.” Wonpil decided, setting the box on the table. The boys gasped, Dowoon bouncing in his chair. 

“Is that from Y/n?” He asks, earning a nod from Wonpil. “Open it then,” Sungjin ordered, setting down his burger. Wonpil complied happily, and the contents made his heart clench. Resting in the box was a very small pair of shoes, knitted yellow booties, and a small SD card in a plastic case. 

“Oh, she was so little.” Jae cooed, picking up the tiny shoes. 

“They must be the shoes she came home in.” Wonpil realized, “She’s almost a year old.” He sighs, picking up the SD card. “Do you mind, Captain?” He asks, and Sungjin nods, tapping the table to expose the port. 

“Go ahead, I want to see the little one.” He grins. Wonpil inserts the card, and a second later a hologram of his wife, sitting on a bed with a very small child on her lap appears above the table. 

“Oh look at her,” Brian coos. “She’s getting so big.” Wonpil can’t help his smile as he rests his arm on the table, his head following. 

“Hi, babe, and hello boys.” The recording begins. “Since I know the Captain will ask you to play this for him.” She grins, glancing down at the baby on her lap. “Will you say hello to Daddy and your Uncles?” She asks, earning a few baby sounds and a laugh from her daughter. She looks back up, smiling at the camera. “Hyebin says hi.” She giggles. “By the time you get this video, we’ll be celebrating her first birthday. My mom insists on getting her a smash cake.” Wonpil lets out a small laugh, remembering the mess that ensued from his oldest daughter’s first birthday. “And your parents are coming over to celebrate too, they know how much we all miss you.” 

“Is that Daddy?” Another small voice fills the speakers and you look away from the camera, shaking your head. 

“No baby, we’ll call him tomorrow, I’m filming a message for him though, would you like to say hello to him?” A second later, the tiny face of his oldest daughter filled the entire screen, making the boys laugh. “Too close Hyerin, everyone’s gonna be able to see up your nose.” The boys laugh again as the little girl lets out a tiny squeak and darts over to her mother’s legs. 

“Hi, Daddy!” She waves. “I miss you! And uncle Dowoon. Mom says I have to be at least 10 before I can go with you to space.” She pouts the last few words. 

“Why don’t you tell Daddy what you want to be when you grow up?” 

“I wanna be a pilot! My teacher let us play on the simulator at school and I kept the plane up the longest.” You giggled at your daughter's excitement. 

“I told her she had to wait until Sungjin was home for a week before she was allowed to go bother him.” You shifted, bringing Hyebin up to rest on your shoulder. “Rin, do you remember how old Bin is?”

“She’ll be a year old on the 19th next month.” Rin nodded, climbing onto the bed next to her mother. 

“And how old will she be when daddy gets home?” 

“16 months.” 

“So how many months till Daddy gets home?” Rin pauses, counting on her fingers.

“Five!” She finally exclaims, looking to her mom for confirmation. 

“Exactly.” You nod, patting Hyebin’s back as she begins to fuss. “Rin, can you do Mommy a favor and go get Binnie’s pacifier out of her bed?” 

“The elephant, right.”

“That’s right, thank you, baby.” You watch for a moment as the little girl runs out of the room. “Oh, and I forgot to tell you, Lilo had her puppies, most of them have been adopted, but I’m letting Rin keep one so she has her own pet.” You smile, “And don’t worry Dowoon, we saved you a puppy as well, she’s staying with us until you get home.” Dowoon cheers, making the boys laugh. “I’ll be going back to work soon, turns out the mission to the probe is ahead of schedule, they want me there when the repairs begin, oh and babe, the shoes in the box, they’re the shoes Bin was brought home in, my grandmother made them, I thought you might like something from home for your desk, just don’t forget to bring them home with you, or my mom might fly out there and mug Brian for them.” Brian huffs, setting the yellow boots on the table. Rin comes back into the room, hands her mother the pacifier, and climbs back onto the bed. “Do you want to say anything else to daddy?” 

“I miss you! And don’t feel bad that you won’t be here on my birthday. Mommy said you’ll be closer to me then than ever before, and that we’ll be able to see you from the control room.” Her grin falls into an exaggerated glare. “But don’t be late coming home, and don’t get hurt okay?” She points a stern finger at the camera. 

“Do you want to say bye?” You prompt. 

“Bye-bye Daddy, I’ll see you soon.” She waves, a grin that makes her look like Wonpil on her face. 

“Bye babe, I love you. Stay safe okay?” You pick up Bin’s tiny hand, waving it to the camera. “Say bye to Daddy Binnie.” You let go of her hand, blowing a kiss to the camera. “Come home soon.” With a final set of waves from you and Rin, the recording ends. 

Wonpil’s face is wet, he knows he’s crying, and he isn’t even ashamed of it as he hides his face in the crook of his arm. 

“I know why Wonpil’s crying, why am I crying?” Dowoon mutters. “Why are you crying?” Wonpil looks up to find the youngest man pointing to Brian, who is wiping his eyes on the cuff of his sleeve. 

“Rin’s gotten so big.” He mutters, earning chuckles from the boys. 

“How do you think I feel?” Wonpil asks, wiping his own eyes. “She’s gonna be seven the day I leave.” 

“I can’t wait to get back to Earth.” Jae sighs, “I miss my friends.” 

“I miss New York Pizza.” Sungjin sighs and all the boys groan in agreement.

“Here’s a deal, when we get home, let’s go out for pizza, bring your families or whatever, we can go to Escape From New York.” Wonpil offers. “Maybe not the first night home, Y/n might kill me if I try leaving the house.” There’s another chorus of laughs. “Oh man, three months till we leave.” Sungjin sighs. “I don’t know if I’m ready.” 

“Not ready to give up command yet?” Brian jokes. Sungjin shakes his head. 

“It’s not that, it’s…” He trails off, unsure of what to say.

“Here, everything we do means something incredible.” Dowoon begins, and the botanist looks away from the older boys, shy as ever. “Grow a plant and its next-gen Astro-terraforming, find a microbe in some nebula get to watch a species be born. Every message sent out to the probes, the colonies, it’s all integral to GASEX and the future of human and Xeno interactions. Back home, Mars, Earth, wherever the hell Jae is from.”

“Literally just the lunar colony.”

“Back home, yeah we’re respected, but the things we do, they aren’t breakthroughs, it’s just humans doing human things.” Dowoon finishes. 

“Unless you’re Wonpil, then you go from repairing a spaceship to building them.” Jae jokes, lightening the mood. Wonpil feels his face heat up as he removes the SD card from the table port. 

“Not for too long.” He confesses. “I’ve worked out a schedule, 11 months on, 11 home until the girls are old enough to join me here.” He tells them, earning cheers. “What about you, coming back anytime soon?” 

“I will be. Come January I’m back on the Artemis.” Sungjin tosses a fry in his mouth. “And then I’m really Captain Sungjin again.” 

“I’ll be on Earth for a few weeks before heading back to Mars.” Dowoon begins, stealing one of Sungjin’s fries. “I think I’ll be back here in 13 Earth months.” He shrugs. 

“Well Jae and I aren’t leaving Earth anytime soon. Not till the coming March, I’m lecturing at Incheon BioCenter for a while and he’s gonna be teaching some languages over at The Seoul Communications Institute.” Brian gestures to Jae who grins, flashing a peace sign. 

“So that puts us all back here, coming March?” Sungjin asks. 

“Following January. I’ll be the last one back.” Wonpil informs him. 

“So three months, technically four, and then we can avoid each other until then.” Brian jokes. “Here’s to avoiding you all until ‘56 then.”

The cabin is filled with the clinking of their glasses and for a moment, everything is normal.

Three months pass quickly, and soon finds Wonpil leaving the ship in the capable hands of Chirs Bang, Im Jaebeom becoming the temporary captain of the Moonrise and Jae successfully shutting up long enough to make his kissing the girl he’d been crushing on goodbye, something out of a romance novel. Wonpil watched his box of belongings, everything he’d collected from different planets and trade ships, being loaded onto the small ship that would carry him home with a heavy heart. This was one of those moments of belonging two places and having to choose between them. 

And then they were setting off, Sungjin expertly piloting them back to the Milky Way, Jae standing as communications, and Jinyoung as navigation. The month passed in the blink of an eye, between rousing card games, basic repairs, and quiet conversations about home, and soon, they were whizzing past Mars, with Dowoon’s face glued to the porthole. 

“This is the S.S. Artemis, we’re just outside Earth’s Atmo, ETA 6 minutes.” Jae’s professional voice barely masked his glee as he watched the sun peek over the planet’s edge. 

“Welcome back to the Milky Way, Artemis. How do we look, Lieutenant Park?”

“Blue, and beautiful.” Jae breathed. “Feels good to be home.” 

“Let’s get through atmo first.” Jinyoung chided. “Then we can celebrate.” 

“Right, ladies and gentlemen, begin reentry preparation.” Sungjin’s command echoed through the small craft’s intercom. “We land in Seoul Spaceport in 6 minutes, let’s not be late.” 

The first person off the ship was Sungjin, who earned a round of applause as he paused at the top of the exit stairs. He was followed quickly by Jae, who flung himself onto the nearest tree, hugging it like a lost lover. Wonpil was among the last to set foot on dry land, and he had the strongest urge to just lay in a flowerbed for a few hours. Instead, he dropped his sunglasses over his eyes and shouldered his bag, following the other engineers towards the flashing cameras. 

“I see them!” The shrill voice of his daughter made Wonpil break into a grin, dropping to his knees and opening his arms for a hug. He watched his daughter fly past him, directly into Dowoon, and before he could react he found himself flat on his ass, a furry body pressed into his chest. 

“Hello Lilo, how’s my girl been?’ He greeted the border collie, accepting the kisses she was planting on his chin. “Oh yes, I missed you too.” Finally dislodging the dog, he turned, finding Hyerin chattering excitedly to Dowoon while Brian laughed at him from a distance. Standing he snuck up to the girl, picking her up unexpectedly, making her shriek and giggle. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, spinning her around. “Daddy!” She cried, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. “I didn’t see you.” 

“Did you really, or did you get distracted by Dr. Yoon?” Your voice made Wonpil turn quickly, grin expanding so much it hurt. There you were, after 20 long months, hair pulled mostly away from your face, sunglasses perched on the crown of your head, and his baby sleeping on your chest. 

“Please, Y/n, just call me Dowoon, you make it so formal,” Dowoon whined, but Wonpil wasn’t really listening. He surged forward, still holding Rin, free hand coming up to your face to pull you in for a long-awaited kiss. 

“I have seen the cosmos, more nebulas than I can count, and the birth of hundreds of stars, and nothing, nothing compares to seeing you again.” He whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Except maybe Pizza,” Jae whispered, leaning on your shoulder. The group began laughing, and you gave Wonpil one more kiss before turning to the other boys. 

“Welcome home boys.” You grinned, giving each one a hug and introducing them to Hyebin who had just woken up. Rin remained firmly attached to Dowoon’s leg once let on the ground and Wonpil couldn’t even be upset, especially once his arms were quickly filled with Hyebin. 

“Hello, little one.” He grinned, watching the way her eyes grew big as he spoke. “My little Binnie, you have a whole galaxy in your eyes, and the universe at your fingertips.” He cooed and the little girl giggled, her chubby fingers going to grab his cheek. 

“And lucky for us, we have stardust in our veins.” You piped in, arm coming to wrap around your husband’s side as you all walked to your car. 

“For now, let’s just keep our boots on solid ground, sound good?” He asked, and you looked up at him, shooting him a wink and the kind of smile that made him fall for you in the first place. 

“Galactic.”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “On a Hill.”

Still working on my ability to write fluff. Hope I am getting better at it :) Hope you all have a great day.

Sunny marched down the hall with great purpose, the words of her brother ringing in her head, “You know Sunny, if you want to do something special for him, why not try doing something human. I mean fighting is all well and good for Drev, but I wonder if he gets tired of getting the crap kicked out of him on a normal basis.”

Her brother was right of course: Adam did sort of have a habit of catering to her needs and wants rather than his own. It did seem more than fair to give him what he wanted for a change.

So, she had done some research, going around the ship and asking the other humans about what they considered to be special. Of course she threw a lot of ideas out on principle because she knew Adam enough to know that he wasn’t going to be interested. It was, surprisingly, Maverick, dateless, lone-wolf Maverick that made the suggestion that caught Sunny’s attention.

“Come on, what better way to a man’s heart than through his stomach. Take him somewhere cool beside that and you’ve got him hook line and sinker.” Of course Sunny didn’t understand the metaphor, but she thought she understood the feeling of it.

So, with her plan all pulled together, she made her way up to the captain’s quarters and knocked lightly on the door.

There was a muffled yip from inside followed by a voice, “Oh Calm down. It’s nobody you don't know. COME IN, DOORS UNLOCKED!”

She pressed the panel to the side of the door, and it hissed open. She walked into the large room leaning down to pet waffles as she ran over tail wagging.

Adam was leaning back on his bed, UNSC issued grey shirt and grey camouflage ACU pants.

In his left hand he was holding a book, turning the pages with his right hand.

Sunny squinted at the cover slowly sounding out the words to the human alphabet.

War of the worlds 

On the opposite wall, the TV was turned low with some sort of vintage zombie movie playing in the background.

“I thought you were a sci fi geek, not a fantasy nerd.” She said walking over to stand over him.” He set down his open book on the side table, “What is more sci-fi than zombies? Some sort of strange disease turns everyone into cannibals. Besides sci fi and fantasy are the same thing, the only difference between them is that sci fi attempts to explain its magic with logic and science, while fantasy creates completely new systems for the way it does things.”

She shrugged, “HAs it ever occurred to you that you are commanding a fleet of spaceships under the command of a galactic council of planets, and you're dating an alien. Does it really get more sci-fi than your life?”

“Leave my nostalgia alone, once upon a time I didn’t think any of that was going to happen…. Especially that last one.” His eyes dropped down from her face focusing in on the object she held in one of her right hands, “That’s a big ass ammo can, what are you doing with it?”

“You’ll see.” She said wryly. Walking over to his closet, pulling out an extra blanket tossing it to him. 

He nearly fumbled it as he stood head tilted to the side with confusion, “What is all this?”

“You’ll see, now come on.”

She led him out of the room and down towards the docking bay where a shuttle had already been prepared for them.

“Do I need weapons?” He wondered nerouvly stepping into the shuttle.

“No weapons needed.”

“That is very unusual coming from you.”

“Just pilot the damn shuttle will you.” She said taking the copilot seat next to him and setting the large ammo canister down on the floor. He did as she ordered, sliding into his seat and pulling on a headset, hands flying through the preflight checklist without so much as a thought.

“So where are we going.”

“Just followed the pre programmed instructions.”

He glanced over at her, his eyebrow raised, “You make me nervous. You know that?”

She frowned and waved a hand, “Oh calm down, I promise it’s nothing big. You’ll like it.”

He shook his head, but finally followed her instructions, lifting the shuttle from the airlock bay and out through the opening airlock doors while lights blinked red over their heads. He followed the instructions to the letter, coming into low orbit with the nearby glowing planet.

They had gone and done a preliminary search of the planet only yesterday determining that it was more than habitable and rather temperate. Plants were already being put together for some kind of scientific colony in it’s northern hemisphere.

“Alright, alien planet is cool.” he said, dropping them into the atmosphere with a sudden rattling, and an eruption of flames out the front window.

That soon dissipated as he slowed the shuttle, and expertly landed them on the pinnacle of a tall spacious hill with a pretty awesome view if she did say so herself.

He shut off the shuttle and stepped outside allowing the warm air to wash over them with a hiss. Adam tilted his head back, nose raised as he took in a deep breath and sigh, “Wow.” he muttered.

Sunny didn’t have as good a sense of smell as Adam did, but even she could detect the clear crisp air and the slight tang of dewdrops on moist soil. The smell made her hungry as they walked a little further onto the top of the hill, where a strange tree waited for them.

The tree itself was not dissimilar to earth trees, maybe twenty feet tall with a narrow black trunk and spongy yellow blobs sticking to it’s branches blocking out a distant glowing sun. Together they turned to look at the view, and Sunny hummed with pleasure as the human stood open mouthed and gawking.

The ground they stood on was a light greyish blue in color with little yellow flowers poking up every now and again. The tree they stood next to was the only lone tree upon the hill which sloped down into a wide- rambling valley. Purple and blue plant matter made up much of the ground while yellow topped trees added a sharp contrast. The sky above them was a deep blue, almost too dark to be a morning sky, though the sun shone bright through its murky blue haze. And then there were the planet's rings appearing as Massive white arches in the sky which plunged down below the horizon. A crystal blue/purple lake glowed at the center of the valley, reflecting a mirror image of the sun and the rings in the sky above.

“Holy, shit, Adam muttered.”

“Nice view, huh.”

Adam rubbed his eyes and shook his head a few times as if he wasn’t believing what he was seeing, “No kidding.”

Leaving him to gawk for a few seconds, she grabbed the blanket from under his arm and then awkwardly worked to spread it out over the grass under the shade of their lone tree.

She was having trouble, but just managed to flatten the blanket out most of the way when Adam turned to look at her. He paused and raised an eyebrow again, smiling a little, “What are you doing?”

She smoothed out one last wrinkle and then took a seat on the blanket legs stretched out in front of her, “What does it look like.”

He walked over as she plopped the ammo can down between them.

He shook his head, “I’m still not entirely sure.”

Sunny reached out and flipped open the latches to the large canister popping open the lid. Adam peered inside and all at once began to laugh. The smile on his face was enough to tell that it wasn’t a mocking laugh or anything. He just seemed genuinely surprised.

He reached inside and pulled out a water bottle still laughing, “An Ammo can?”

She shrugged, “I am told a picnic basket is usually preferable, but we didn’ have one of those on the ship.”

Adam continued to laugh shaking his head in either disbelief delight or both, “What prompted all this.” He asked motion towards the  ammo can, now picnic basket.

She shrugged, “I have been made aware that we do a lot of things that are very Drev, but not a lot of things that are particularly human, so I thought maybe I should do something human for you.”

He still had a smile on his face, but this time he shook his head resting one hand over hers, “Its thoughtful of you, Sunny, but I was ok with what we were doing.”

She shrugged, “I know you are, but you often let me have my way, so I thought it would be a good way to show you that I care, to do something that I have never done before.”

He smiled and lay back against the blanket a soft breeze tugging at his shirt, “Well consider mission accomplished. This was a pretty great idea.” He cracked his one good eye to look at her, “So, who did you ask?”

Sunny shrugged a bit sheepishly, “it was Maverick’s idea, but I DID go looking for her myself.”

“Maverick? That sly dog, I would never have pegged her as the type to come up with something like this.”

“Yeah she is….. Hmmm… how shall I say.”

“She should have been born Drev. I don’t think she has ever dated anyone but I’m pretty sure she would consider kicking the snot out of someone the perfect way to spend an afternoon.”

“She does have the heart of a Drev.” Sunny said nodding, leaning back on the blanket next to him to stare up at the great rings in the sky above.

Adam chuckled again after a few minutes of silence, “Ammo can.”

“Shut up.”

He laughed again and sat up on one elbow digging through the canister until he came up with a sandwich before sitting himself cross legged on the blanket and taking a bite.

Sunny reached in after him and pulled out an apple.

She liked human fruit, though with apples she had to be careful to avoid the seeds. Humans could probably handle them without too much issue, but she had learned from experience that accidentally ingesting an apple seed made her very, very sick.

Adam was about halfway through his sandwich, when a slight movement from the corner of her eye caught Sunny’s attention. She paused eating her apple mid crunch and turned to look towards the movement.

She paused, eyes widening a little.

“Adam…. Don’t look now, but we have company.”

He paused, sandwich halfway to his mouth and turned his head pausing and staring as she had done as a troop of fuzzy foot and a half tall- bird-ish things came waddling up the hill towards them.

Again at about a foot and a half tall, the creatures walked on two legs like a bird. They had very big fluffy bodies and little heads that sat atop their ample fluff. A short thick beak sat at the front of their faces.

“Stay very still.” Sunny muttered from the corner of her mouth as the little troop of about fifteen creatures waddled up the hill.

They didn’t seem scared of the two strange looking aliens as they approached. Adam, despite Sunny’s warning leaned over to get a better look as one of them moved closer, “what are these?”

The creature was now only a foot or so away from him, and as Sunny watched, it’s small head rose up from it’s fluffy body suspended on the end of it’s long furry neck as it extended and nibbled at Adam’s sandwich.

He let off an exclamation of indignation as he pulled his sandwich away, “Ack!”

As soon as the strange noise came out from his mouth a chorus of other voices followed, “ACK.” As the entire troop parreted the sound back at him.

He was surrounded now on all sides, and from his opposite side another fo the creature’s extended his neck in an attempt to take a bit from his sandwich.

“Hey!” he shouted leaning the other way and huddling closer around his sandwich.

Sunny laughed, watching as the strange troop of birds began curiously pecking at him.

Two of them were pecking at his bootlaces, another was tugging at his pant leg. One of them had crawled into his lap in search of the sandwich, while two others were busy plucking at strands of hair atop his head. He had his hand raised high over his head in order to protect his sandwich. 

She continued to laugh as their curiosity led one to stick it’s head down the front of his shirt.

He yelped in surprise.

And the group chorused the sound.

Sunny couldn’t hold back the loud barking laugh that spilled from hier, and just like that the group of them scrambled in fear hiding behind Adam in an unruly mob.

Adam frowned, and turned to look over his shoulder, looking back at Sunny with a frown.

One of the birds poked its head out from behind Adam, and upon seeing her it parroted Adam’s yelp of alarm and hid again, “Why aren’t they all over you?” Adam protested 

Sunny snorted, “They can sense the danger.”

Adam frowned, ‘i’m dangerous.”

That made sunny laugh again, “You! You’re a marshmallow and they can sense it!”

Two more heads poked out from around Adam’s back, and the birds slowly began to wadner forward. One of them crawled back onto his lap, while the others moved to their palace at his bootlaces again.

A couple of them wandered over to sunny where they stood in a semi straight line to just stare at her. She stared back 

Adam huffed in frustration, and Sunny turned to look at him, holding his sandwich above his head again, “I could eat you for lunch if I wanted.” He pointed over at Sunny, “She’s a herbivore.”

They didn’t seem to care, and continued to peck at him.

Eventually he was forced to stand up just to eat his sandwich, while they parroted any noise he made that wasn’t speech.

Sunny stood after he was finished eating, walking a little ways down the hill with him. The troop followed in a line at Adam’s heels, keeping to his left, where Sunny was on his right.

“Leave it to you to immediately make new alien friends.”

He squeezed her hand, “You have to admit, I’m pretty good at it.” He looked up at her out of the corner of his eye, “You being exhibit A.”

“Hmmm, I think you were a bit too good when it comes to me.”

His mouth twitched slightly, “Yeah, I sort of didn’t intend to make you fall head over heels for me.” She smiled openly now, “But who could blame you. I am pretty irresistible.”

Sunny would later insist that she shoved him very lightly, and he was just off balance enough to fall over and go rolling halfway down the hill with a troop of birds squawking after him. She would also deny the fact that she laughed when a few of the birds lost their footing and went rolling down the hill after him.

Of course she could be seen awkwardly running down the hill after to see if he was ok, only to come to a stop laughing again when she found him sprawled on his back with one of the creatures sitting atop his chest and another one pecking at his ears. She carried him back up the hill when he proved unable to walk due to dizziness.

“I thought you were a fighter pilot immune to dizziness.” She said 

He crossed his arms just over the bird who had refused to get off his chest, and was not receiving a ride back up the hill courtesy of Sunny, “I AM but only when given warning. Generally I am not launched into flight without my knowledge.”

She snorted as she turfed him down back on the blanket, The bird squawking indignantly,

He frowned at it, “What is this?”

After a few minutes, the others followed, returning to their curious adventuring in his clothes and hair. One of them stuck it’s head into his sleeve without warning pradding him in the armpit and forcing him to make another yelping noise which they soon parroted back at him.

Sunny sat pointing and laughing at him as he suffered, though it could hardly count as suffering considering he was smiling so much, and seemed to be more than enjoying it. 

Her sides hurt with how much laughing she was doing as his expense and couldn’t help but take a few pictures of his predicament. 

It would have seemed strange to an outsider,, if they had come around a few hours later.

A drev and a human lying atop a blanket. The human using the Drev as a pillow, while both of them were surrounded by strange sleeping birdlike creatures, one resting on top of the human while the others hunkered down around them.

Eyes still closed Sunny asked, “So, despite our…. Uninvited guests. Did I do good.:

Adam didn’t open his eyes either, “This is probably the best time Ive had in the past week ,and that’s saying something.” he paused, “You did good.”

She smiled, “I know, I’m pretty amazing.”

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: We are giants in the bodies of insects.

“We’ve got mechs inbound boys!”  A rousing cheer surged among the humans as they cried out in joy at the announcement despite the near constant rate of fire still being launched at them. Malcar was still learning of human culture but he didn’t think their cheers were for anything significant to the current war. Humans had an odd habit of cheering over nearly anything be it getting a liquid beverage on time or remembering to bring a rain protection shield when they went out despite no signs of forthcoming rain.  Still, humans had readily answered the calls for aide when Malcar’s homeworld was invaded by a warlike species known as the Quwaty so he had no reason to question human habits. Not many other species wanted to fight the Quwaty because of their brutal nature and their tradition of making slaves of their defeated foes. They had invaded this world and all looked like it was over when a massive human relief force had emerged in orbit two months ago.  Malcar still remembered the sight of hundreds of human troop carriers descending from the sky over the capital of Humba while the Quwaty launched a massive attack on it. The humans had poured out of their ships the moment they touched terraferma and charged out to meet the enemy and through sheer grit and constant fighting had broken the main thrust of the Quwaty and drove them away from the city.  Since then with the help of the human soldiers they had been able to drive the enemy back to the equator before they were stopped. Quwaty resistance began increasing to the point the counter offensive stalled and now both sides found themselves stuck in heavily defended positions watching each other across no mans land.  They had been defending their positions against a savage Quwaty assault attempting to enter the trench system when the message had come down through the human communications network. The humans appeared to fight twice as hard at the news and Malcar had seen even greater feats performed by them pushing well past the limits of the sane. A few moments ago he had seen a human soldier whom he had known as “Jenkins” had been stabbed by a Quwaty Ironbark Carbine, only for Jenkins to pry the weapon from the Quwaty and then stab it with its own weapon. Malcar had rushed over to help Jenkins stand after he had dealt with the enemy warrior. “Why would you do something so risky human jenkins?” Jenkins looked at Malcar and smiled, blood coating several of his teeth. “Because I know we’re going to be alright! We hold on for a little longer and everything will be alright!” Jenkins started laughing, drops of blood flinging from his mouth making him look like a madman. “How do you know we will be alright?” Malcar asked, concerned that Jenkins may have entered an unstable mental state as a result of being stabbed. Jenkins lifted his hand and pointed towards the sky. “The mechs are coming! They’re going to fuck them up good! Hahahahhah!”  Malcar followed Jenkins finger skyward and saw several massive ships slowly descending behind our lines. The sheer size of them stunned Malcar. There were three ships, each appearing as massive spheres with legs sprouting out at the bottom as they neared the ground. “Everyone!” Malcar turned to the human commander at the announcement, “Get down and brace!” Malcar saw all of the humans surrounding him drop to their knees and bow their heads towards the approaching space ships. It reminded him of those who worshiped primitive ideas of all powerful beings. Malcar felt himself suddenly being dragged down by Jenkins and he fell to his knees just as the first of the ships touched the surface of the planet. A massive mound of dust shot up towards the sky and expanded outwards with such force that it had enveloped everything around it for several miles, the sun itself having difficulty piercing through the thick cloud now covering the warzone.  Malcar coughed several times before hearing a loud screech from behind. He turned fast enough to see a Quwaty warrior rushing him with an Ironbark Carbine. He raised his own weapon to attempt to get off a round at the warrior before he reached him, or at the least use it to swipe aside the carbine and counter with his elbow to knock the warrior to the ground when a loud roar echoed.  “BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”  The Quwaty warrior halted their rush and cocked their head from side to side, as if trying to find the source of the sound.  “BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” The sound came again and Malcar realized the sound was coming from where the ships had landed. He turned his head to follow the sound and saw lights carving their way through the dust cloud.  “BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” The ground started trembling and Malcar couldn’t help but notice it felt like the footsteps of something massive. He could see lights now carving their way through the dust cloud and at first thought they were the running lights of the ship. But the lights were rocking back and forth now and getting closer by the second. Jenkins was laughing nonstop now and Malcar had a growing sense of dread. A large shadow appeared from the depths of the cloud as the ground continued to shake. Without warning a loud whine sound began emitting from the shadow followed by a blinding flash of light.  A large blast of plasma stabbed through the cloud and went flying towards the Quwaty side of no mans land. The plasma hit the line and shot up a huge explosion forcing the dust cloud to retreat away revealing the shadowy figure to Malcar.  Standing before him was a metal humanoid form several stories tall. The sunlight glittering off it’s polished metal form, steam rising from the recently fired plasma cannon, it’s chaingun slowly rotating in its other hand, and a painted human skull in place of a head glaring out across the battlefield.  Malcar was in awe of the metal giant and noticed several more exiting the sphere ships behind it. To think such aliens existed in the world and had sided with humanity was truly astounding. He was going to ask Jenkins questions about them when a loud voice dominated the warzone.  “ATTENTION QUWATY!” Malcar tracked the voice to the skull faced giant. “NORMALLY WE WOULD OFFER YOU A CHANCE TO LAY DOWN YOU ARMS AND SURRENDER TO US, BUT GIVEN YOUR SITUATION WE HAVE DECIDED ON A DIFFERENT COURSE OF ACTION.” The other giants were now walking over and standing to either side of the skull face, weapons appearing to power up.  “BECAUSE OF YOUR SLAVERY TRADITION AND WAR CRIMES COMMITTED AGAINST THE SPECIES OF NOT ONLY THIS WORLD BUT ALL OTHERS YOU HAVE INVADED, NO SURRENDERS WILL BE ACCEPTED AT THIS TIME.” Quwaty weapon emplacements from across no mans land opened up and began showering the giants in weapons fire. Most of the rounds seemed to cause little to no damage, many more just bouncing off all together. Streaks of rockets flashed and impacted them leaving only scorch marks on their armor.  “AS YOU HAVE TRAMPLED ON THOSE YOU LED INTO CHAINS, SO TO SHALL WE TRAMPLE OVER YOUR BROKEN CORPSES BENEATH OUR FEET. MAKE PEACE WITH YOUR GODS, FOR WE ARE DEATH COME TO COLLECT YOU.” With that all of the giants returned fire at once and began marching forward.  -------------------------------- Roughly two weeks after the intervention of the mechs the invasion was all that broken. The Quwaty attempted several times to mount a defense but they lacked any means of damaging the mechs as they stomped across the countryside hunting them down. Staying true to their word, the mechs did not accept any surrenders and left a path of bloody destruction littered with the bodies of Quwaty warriors. Several dozen had attempted to board ships and flee back into space only to be swatted from the sky by either the mechs or the human fleet now orbiting the planet uncontested.  Malcar had been nervous approaching the towering warriors humanity had brought with them but as the war seemed to be dying down he felt he must approach them and thank them personally for their aide.  Once back at base he saw the skull faced giant that had stood before him and he made his way over to it. The giant was slowly walking through the base until it entered a special hangar. Malcar was waved in by the guards and stepped into the hangar just as the skull face giant was backing into a massive rack that latched on the the metal warrior and held it in place. This was the first time he had ever been in the hangar. He saw several dozen humans racing across the hangar floor pushing boxes of ammunition or moving various tools. He could see several other humans walking along gangways that were holding other metal warriors and they appeared to be doing some work on it.  Malcar finally made his way to the base of the skull giant and looked up, the sheer size finally coming into full focus. He had got down on his knees and bowed his head just as the humans had done when the giants ship had landed. Malcar had figured that it might be religious but also may be a display of respect.  He was about to call up to the might warrior and offer his thanks when he saw a metal panel open from the midsection. As Malcar watched a smaller figure emerged from the panel and grabbed hold of a metal cord that slowly brought the figure down to Malcar.  As they touched the ground he saw that the figure was a human female roughly a foot smaller than him. She had bright red hair, freckles covering most of her exposed skin, and a large scar that went from her left eye all the way to the corner of her mouth on the left side.  “You.....You are human?” Malcar asked. The female just stared at him for several seconds. “Were you expecting a fucking mushroom you daft twit?” she responded. “No I, I am just confused.” He motioned to the mech. “How can you be inside such a creature? Did you tame them and control them from inside their stomach?” She looked at him again and just laughed in his face. He couldn’t understand any of this and her laughter just brought new questions.  “Did you honestly think this,” she struck her hand against the leg of the metal giant “was a living creature?” Malcar nodded causing the female to snort with another bout of laughter.  “This is a machine ya goon. We made it, we pilot it, we use it to kick arse all across the galaxy against anyone stupid enough to pick a fight with humanity.” “You, built this?” Malcar knew that humans had extensive use of machines, but the sheer size and complexity of the giant towering above him seemed like god science.  “I’ve seen that look before on a dozen other alien faces when they learn the truth.” Malcar returned his gaze to the female at her words. “You think that humans are small, frail, and weak. That because we don’t have claws or armored skin we will just lay down and die easily.” “What we lack we make up for in our will.” She brought her hand up and pounded it over her chest. “And not just any will, but an iron fucking will!” She pushed passed Malcar and raised her hands gesturing to the giants surrounding them. “Our imagination knows no limits, our fury knows no remorse, our compassion no end.” A small crowd was gathering around her all pounding their fists to their chests as she spoke. “We are giants in the bodies of insects! Where we tread, the earth shakes! Where we fly, the skies part before us! Where we sail, the waves break beneath us!” She turned to face Malcar, determination filling her eyes. “For when we put our minds to something not even an act of god can halt our progress! And so I say to you all..” The crowd around her called out as she spoke. “WE ARE GIANTS! FEAR OUR TREAD!” 

[thanksjro]

Before We Begin

Full disclosure: I’m not working off of a physical copy of this story, but rather a PDF download. I live in the United States, and don’t think I’d be able to find a copy of this book if my life depended on it.

When I was looking at the download packets, I chose the one with as many extra materials as I could, so I’d have the best chance at understanding the story without having to rely on the internet too much.

As you can see, there’s a good amount to work with here. I’m especially happy to have the notes- also known as the Story So Far. Thank god for this, because this would be an absolute slog to get through otherwise.

Eugenesis takes place within the Marvel comics continuity, which includes both the American and UK comics published at the time, and The Transformers The Movie. The guide summarizes the millions-year long war between the Autobots and the Decepticons over control of the planet Cybertron. Pretty basic stuff, things anyone who’s ever heard of the Transformers ought to know. The notes assume that the reader knows absolutely nothing about the franchise, which is good, because it means nothing gets left out.

This is already an interesting contrast between Eugenesis and MTMTE/LL, which didn’t need very much extra reading to be understood, if any at all. A rarity in the comic industry. Sure, there were things you could read to get a deeper understanding of certain character motivations- Last Stand of the Wreckers, for example, giving one a better grasp of why Fort Max is so messed up and angry.

But this is about the notes right now, not the comics. So, let’s dive right into:

That’s right, baby, this novel takes place in the far-flung future of 2012, and you better believe the date 12/21/12 comes up at least once.

There’s a lot of stuff that’s covered in the notes, and I’ll bring it up as needed as I progress through the novel. It’s helpful to have, but let’s move on to the juicier stuff.

…Is what I would say, if the notes weren’t completely batshit insane.

It starts out innocently enough, describing the beginnings of the war, establishing that the Transformers didn’t always, well, transform. Transformation technology was developed by Megatron in order to make the Decepticons more combat-effective, and the Autobots followed suit. They fought so hard that Cybertron was knocked out of orbit and got lost for a little while, eventually coming under the rule of a warlord named Trannis while Optimus and Megatron are busy being unconscious for four million years on Earth.

Trannis is a massive technoist, who believes that mechanical beings are the bee’s knees, so he starts cyberforming other planets, until he gets offed by the resistance. He’s quickly replaced with Jhiaxus, who’s basically more of the same, and the Decepticons of Cybertron split up, one team heading into space to do evil robot things, the other guarding Cybertron from the resistance. The Beast Wars are mentioned. The cartoon continuity is mentioned. Shockwave shows up for a bit, gets thrown in a swamp a couple times.

Things go on like this until 1985, when the Earth-based Autobots reestablish contact with their homeworld.

Galvatron shows up- y’know, Galvatron. The revamped Megatron from the movie, which takes place in 2005. He time-hopped from the future to build a weapon to kill Unicron. The Autobots try to stop him. Why they don’t just let him kill Unicron, who is blatantly evil and a threat to anyone around him, isn’t stated, but they eventually trick Galvatron into going back to the future, with a little help from Kup, Blurr, and Hot Rod, who are also from the future.

Galvatron comes back a year later. He causes a bunch of time-travel nonsense to happen, and is basically the worst until the Time Wars happen.

Meanwhile, Megatron heads back to Cybertron to see what’s happened while he was taking a dirt nap. Straxis- who was left in charge by Jhiaxus- isn’t doing so hot, and decides he’s going to steal Megatron’s body for his own. He gets killed for his troubles. Megatron decides he’s just going to head back to Earth, feeling pretty paranoid at this point- which, fair enough. I don’t think I’d feel very safe after someone tried to steal my body either.

Later on, Optimus Prime dies in a video game. Optimus Prime is killed by a human child in a video game. In fact, let me just show you the whole paragraph that covers this, because I don’t know that I’m able to do it justice.

It just blows my mind, and I knew that this happened before I even attempted to read the notes. These notes are eight pages long, and this is on page three.

Now Fortress Maximus is leading a group of Autobots, but he’s really not feeling the fight so much, so he, Kup, and Hot Rod just kinda… leave. They end up on Nebulos and become Target/Headmasters, just in time for the Decepticons to track them down and fight some more. Back on Earth, the Autobots launch Optimus’ corpse into space and elect a dinosaur as their new leader. This goes about as well as one would expect.

Over in London, G.I. Joe finds out that Megatron’s been living in the sewers. Actually, it isn’t Megatron, but a clone, housing the personalities of both Megatron and Straxis. They kill him and throw him in the river. Shockwave catches wind of this and has the body brought to him so he can use it to kill Galvatron. He brings the body back online using a ‘psycho-probe’, and uses the power of suggestion to have Megatron do his dirty work.

Megatron decides to kill Cyclonus and Scourge first, since they work for Galvatron, and through a time-travel mishap, ends up killing one of them before they were created. This displeases the space-time continuum, which promptly rips, and will continue to do so over the next few months.

Are you starting to see why I needed to break this down?

Optimus Prime is brought back from the dead. Hooray.

Starscream finds the Underbase-  an ancient storehouse of Cybertronian knowledge so vast it will literally melt your brain- and wrecks shop until the moment it kills him.

Meanwhile, clone-Megatron has decided he’s not going to kill Galvatron, but rather join forces with him. Everyone agrees that this is a terrible idea, and so the Autobots and Decepticons living in the year 2009 join forces to get Galvatron back to the future. The space-time rift swallows him, Scourge, and Cyclonus’ corpse, solving the problem pretty cleanly. Clone-Megatron finds the original-flavor Megatron, and promptly kills himself.

With the original Megatron back in play, he kidnaps Ratchet and forces him to resurrect Starscream as a Pretender- a robot in a protective shell. Ratchet decides that he’s going to fuck the warlord over as thoroughly as possible, instead bringing back a few of his friends and then exploding the Decepticon base. Both Ratchet and Megatron are presumed dead, but when has that ever stopped anyone in this franchise?

The newly resurrected Autobot Pretenders wind up in the center of the planet, Decepticons hot on their trail, and find themselves face-to-face with Primus, their creator god. Someone shoots the poor guy in the face, and he screams loud enough for Unicron, Bringer of Chaos, Vorer of Worlds, to hear him. So, that’s a thing they’re going to have to deal with in a few months.

Unicron finds a Galvatron from a parallel universe and takes him along for the ride, as the Autobots spend the start of the 90’s looking for the original Optimus’ dead body, which they never bothered to get the Matrix out of for some reason. They better hurry, because space is pretty big, and that Matrix is the only thing that can stop the Chaos Bringer.

Ratchet and Megatron are found- alive- in a pocket dimension, though they probably wish that they weren’t, seeing as they’ve been fused together so hard their brains have to take turns piloting their horrific, melty, shared body.

Unicron shows up in ’91 and kills, just, so many people. Optimus Prime sacrifices himself to save the rest of the population, flinging his body and the newly-recovered Matrix into the World-Vorer’s mouth. This kills God.

Optimus names Grimlock as the new leader of the Autobots- because that worked out so well the last time- and then dies. Prowl does all the heavy lifting to actually get the planet back in shape, seeing as the fight with Unicron wrecked Cybertron so hard its trying to tear itself apart via earthquakes.

Cyberquakes?

Anyway,  Prowl works out a deal with the new leader of the Decepticons, Bludgeon, only to get sabotaged for his efforts, the Autobots being left to die as the 'Cons fly off to find new worlds to conquer.

Shockwave and Starscream- that’s right baby, he’s back- steal the Ark, unaware that there were multiple other people aboard. It’s like they didn’t even check. Galvatron is stowed away, and both Megatron and Ratchet- freshly separated- are stored in stasis pods. Ratchet wakes up and immediately crashes the ship into Canada, hoping to kill the Decepticons aboard. Galvatron lives, only to be trapped under the ice by a nasty fight with Fortress Maximus, the last Autobot left on Earth.

Back on Cybertron, Gridlock has a show of competence and reveals that he had extra ships hidden away, just in case the Decepticons tried anything funny. They get off the planet and go to fight some ‘Cons.

Optimus Prime is brought back from the dead. Hooray.

The Matrix is recreated. Wahoo.

The Autobots fight the Decepticons, defeating them once and for all. Or do they?

No, they don’t.

See, even the notes know what’s up.

Not even a year later, Optimus catches wind of Decepticon forces gathering along the edge of the galaxy. He decides to make Grimlock leader of the Earthforce- because Optimus never friggin’ learns- and they face off against Megatron and friends a few times before the Decepticons abandon Earth altogether. At some point, Fortress Maximus gets killed off. Grimlock disbands the Earthforce to chase the ‘Cons across the galaxy, and finds a Cybertronian empire, which holds at its center Liege Maximo, who claims to have created Megatron.

Well, that’s not exactly right; he claims to be Megatron’s progenitor.

It’s at this point I broke out the TFWiki, because that could mean a lot of things.

Still vague. Hmm. I’m onto you, Marvel comics. Don’t be jumping on the mechpreg just yet, we still have three more pages of notes to get through.

…What did I just say, Marvel comics?

Did I say three pages? I meant two paragraphs. Holy hell, that hits like a punch to the face, it does.

Okay, so this isn’t exactly what you think, believe it or not. This is describing the form of reproduction that was established in the Marvel comics known as budding- some unlucky robot’s body runs away with itself and basically vomits out another fully-formed ‘bot. It’s like their chest was chewing a huge wad of gum, tried to blow a bubble, but did it just a little too hard.

Getting back on track, Optimus Prime finds out about budding from Vector Sigma, but pulls out of their little pow-wow before he can be told about the byproduct of this birthing process- the Swarm, an ink-black cloud of evil energy that left Cybertron ages ago to find something to feed off of.

The Swarm finds its way home, interrupting yet another standoff between the Autobots/Decepticons and the Cybertronian Empire. A lot of folks die, and Optimus surrenders to the Swarm in an attempt to save his compatriots. The Swarm gets introduced to, and I quote: “concepts of nobility, compassion, and sacrifice”, then goes back into deep space to seek enlightenment.

Can you imagine if human afterbirth did that? You just had a baby, and now you have to beat your placenta off with a broom? Then the god-king of the world introduces it to meditation and kindness, and it goes off to find inner peace instead of killing everyone? Comic books are wild.

Other than that funky little aside, it’s business as usual for the Transformers- war! From 1995 to 2003, they’re fighting nonstop. Then the UN decides that Optimus Prime’s allowed to build a giant robot city on Earth. It sure is a good thing Optimus is such a nice guy, because I don’t think they would have been able to stop him otherwise. Imagine telling the thirty-foot tall robot-Jesus from space he needs a permit to build a city in the middle of the desert.

They build the city- Autobot City, in fact- with Metroplex the Titan sealed inside, just in case the Decepticons decide to try anything funny.

They do- it’s called The Transformers The Movie. There’s a slight difference in plot, in that the notes remind us of the fact that Galvatron is a time-traveling ponce, but other than that the movie’s the movie.

To summarize that- though I’d be surprised if I needed to- movie goes like this: It’s the distant future of 2005, ‘Cons attack Autobot City, Optimus gets shot and dies AGAIN, traumatizing thousands of children in the mid-80s, Megatron gets shunted into deep space, meets Orson Welles who makes him a thigh-tastic new body, Megatron-now-Galvatron turns Starscream into a small pile of ash, a bunch of robots get vored, Hot Rod fulfills his destiny and becomes the new space-Jesus, Unicron explodes, YOU GOT THE TOUCH YOU GOT THE POWER-

So after all that happens, the Autobots take back Cybertron and tell the remaining Decepticons to kindly screw off. Hot Rod- now Rodimus Prime- decides he’s not taking any chances and hires a bounty hunter to find and kill Galvatron, who’s off galavanting somewhere in space. Both Rodimus and the bounty hunter follow Galvatron through time- of course- and land in 1987, but return to the future/present empty-handed. While they were gone, Shockwave and a group of Decepticons showed up on Cybertron, resulting in a stalemate between the two factions.

In 2008, the bounty hunter shoots down Cyclonus and Scourge- Rodimus put a hit out on them, too- over the planet of Junk, home of the Junkions. Who else is there? Oh, just Unicron. He’s got the Junkions brainwashed and building him a new body. He uses the bounty hunter to kill Shockwave, instates Cyclonus and Scourge as the new Decepticon leaders, then gets blown up by Rodimus and Wreck-Gar. Cyclonus, Scourge, and the bounty hunter all go through a time portal as this is happening, and the two Transformers end up in 15th century Cybertron, where they’ll become Targetmasters. Their resumes must be very impressive at this point. Nobody’s sure where the bounty hunter’s gotten to- we’ll get back to him later.

Although his physical form has been destroyed, Unicron’s essence lives on inside the Matrix. This can only end well, surely.

Back on Cybertron, Soundwave takes control of the Decepticon forces.

The Quintessons break free from Unicron’s control, just in time to discover that their planet’s about to be torn apart by the space-time rift Cyclonus’ dead body made.

Are you beginning to see why I felt the need to summarize these notes?

The leader of the Quintessons decides that now is the perfect time to attack Autobot City on Earth, as well as Cybertron. This doesn’t go very well for the Quintessons, or their planet.

The time-rift is still causing issues, so Rodimus Prime grabs some Autobots and heads to the past, to go grab everyone’s favorite time-traveling ‘Cons. What happened there we already covered, so I’ll leave it at that.

Rodimus and friends return to the present, only to wind up in a parallel universe, and the fact that this is only the second time I’ve had to write “parallel universe” for this section of the breakdown honestly astounds me. Rodimus gets possessed by the spirit of Unicron, who was hiding in the Matrix as we covered earlier, but he handles it pretty well and they head back home.

Back in their original universe, they find Galvatron, Cyclonus and Scourge, repaired by the space-time rift. Rodimus destroys any and all time machines he can get his hands on at this point- the notes say it’s to keep a promise he made to Optimus, but between you and me, I think he’s just gotten sick of Galvatron’s shit.

A couple years after that, Unicron’s got himself a hot new bod, and now he’s gonna tear up the town. By "tear up”, I of course mean devour with the sole intent of destruction, and by “town", I mean the entirety of Cybertron. Rodimus Prime manages to stop him, by containing him within his body, perhaps his mind? The notes are vague here, but the Wiki seems to imply that he’s trapped within the Matrix again, which Rodimus holds.

Now it’s December 2012, and things aren’t going so great for the Autobots. The Decepticons have control of Cybertron, the remaining Autobots being forced into hiding underground. On Earth, Autobot city is manned by a hundred ‘bots, Ultra Magnus acting as leader. They’re there to make sure Earth’s safe from the ‘Cons, but there hasn’t been an attack in quite a bit.

That’s where the notes end. That’s everything you need to know before reading Eugenesis. So, what did we learn?

We learned that Galvatron and his goons time traveled so frequently they broke the laws of physics. Optimus is just as incapable of staying dead here as he is everywhere else- multiversal constant, that one. Rodimus is smarter than Optimus about confronting the enemy, in that he intends for them to die, either by his hand or one that’s been hired. Good for him, I say. Get the job done, Rodders.

We also learned that the mechpreg really isn’t Roberts’ fault. I mean, yeah, he probably leans on the concept a bit heavily, but he’s just working with what he was given by the franchise. We’ll see how deep that rabbit hole goes later on.

But I think the most important thing to glean from this is that comic timelines are a nightmare. That’s the real lesson here.

Okay! Notes are done! That means we can start on the novel, right?

No.

No, it doesn’t.

We still have the prequel to get through.

[transdonaldduck]

Across the Rubicon (1/?)

Fandom: Ducktales 2017/Duck Avenger Pairing: Gen (so far) Authors note: No beta readers we die like men. also if you actually like this let me know and i’ll try and work on it some more! Summary: When Donald wrestles his sister out of the spear of selene’s pilot chair, he doesn’t expect to be locked inside without any way to disable the take off sequence, and none of them expect the cosmic storm- or the alien ship creating it. (AU where Donald takes the SOS instead of Della)

Donald tackles Della out of the pilots seat.

She squawks in surprise, twisting under him and the rears her head back, slamming her helmet into his beak. He yelps in pain, ducking his head to keep her from pulling the same stunt again, and struggles to keep a hold of her. He needed to get her off this death trap- the space suits Uncle Scrooge had custom made for them had parachutes, if he could just push her out the door she’d be fine.

“Donald!” She thrashes and he plants his feet and pulls, dragging her across the floor, “Let go!” she shouts, and there’s an edge of panic, “I already started the take off sequence! You have to get out of here!”

“I’m not letting you do this!” He snaps, latching onto her legs, “You can’t leave them behind!”

She twists so she's on her back, smacking at his chest and trying to pry him off, “I’ll be right back! Just once last avenue! One more adventure!”

She wiggles her left foot free and kicks him, sending him sprawling across the floor and his face twists, “It’s always one more something with you! You have to slow down! You have kids!” and it’s an argument they’ve had a thousand and one times before.

The Spear of Selene seems to hum louder and Dellas face falls, and she scrambles to her feet, reaching down and grabbing his arms, “You have to get off!” she pulls him over to the hatch he’d come in at and rushes to open it, the latch grinding in protest as she slams it open.

“I won’t make it down in time!”

She opens her mouth to say something but before she can get it out, he’s barreling into her, shoving her out the door and suddenly she’s freefalling. She pinwheels her arms, remember her parachute and pulls the ripcord. It catches the wind hard and the straps yank at her shoulders, almost too soon she hits the ground with a solid thud, rolling to try and recover. It had broken most of her fall, just not quite all- and she’d have the bruises to show for it days later.

“But you will.” Donald mutters to himself, watching her make it to the ground. He whips around, tearing through the SOS- he’s gotta find the spare suit. He wasn’t lying before- if he just tried climbing down, he’d never make it before the ship kicked off. He’d have to jump like Della. He’s elbows deep in the supply closet when he hears something slam. He practically leaps back up the ladder into the cockpit- the hatch had closed and locked on its own. Donald grabs the handle and pulls violently, but it doesn’t budge.

He vaults over the back of the captains chair to sit in it, the communications screen is blinking- and incoming call, he smacks the buttons around it, miraculously hitting the right one to answer the line, “Della!” Scrooge freezes, mouth gaping when the wrong twin appears on the screen, “What- Donald?” He asks, astonished, “What are you doing in there?”

“I’d love to chit-chat, Uncle Scrooge, but i’m running out of time! This thing is going to take off with me in it!” He glances down at all the buttons and controls sitting in front of him, blinking lights and dials staring unhelpfully back at him, “What do I do?”

“Just get out of there lad!” Scrooge leans forward, face crowding the screen, “There’s a spare suit under the pilots chair! Use the parachute to abandon ship!”

Donald’s already shaking his head even as he grabs the suit from the compartment beneath the chair, he hadn’t noticed it until Uncle Scrooge pointed it out, “The door’s locked, I can’t open it.”

Under his feathers, Scrooge’s face goes white, “Locked..?”

The door behind Scrooge slams open and Della’s standing there, she’d torn off her helmet at some point and all she was left in was the bottom of the space suit, “The ships in the last stage of take off! Donald, you have to cancel the launch!” She practically leaps across the room, yanking the microphone from Scrooge’s hand, “You have to cancel the launch!” she repeats frantically, the ship making a new and scary sound.

“I don’t know how! It’s not as if there’s a cancel lift off button in here!” he rakes his eyes across the control panels. He pulls the space suit up to his hips before Della is rattling off orders at him.

“If it’s not, put the yoke in resting position! And then-” It’s a bunch of techno jargon he can’t keep up with, push this and flip that and turn this, he can’t keep up.

“I don’t understand,” he says and the ship lurches under him, he grabs the arm rests of the pilots chair to keep himself steady.

Della on the screen gasps, clutching at the mic in her hand desperately, “It’s too late.” She whispers and then, with more authority, “Put the suit on Donald. We can’t stop the launch now, you’re gonna have to pilot this thing. We’ll get you into orbit and then we’ll come for you, okay? We’ll come.” She’s trying to be steady, but her voice shakes. He zips up the suit and twists the helmet down so it seals properly.

The Spear of selene trembles and shudders, Scrooge and Della turn their eyes to different screen, face lit up by yellow and white and red as the ship blasts off. Della starts shouting at him through the comms again, more directions- she's more in control now, steady, dumbing down her words so he can follow along. “The switch right below the biggest yellow dial, yes, flip that one now-” he doesn’t dare watch the ground grow smaller and smaller below him, he can’t stomach it. This is the scariest thing he’s ever done, all his attention needs to be here and now and on Dellas every word.

“That’s it, lad!” Scrooge says encouragingly, and Donald smiles shakily through the G-Force of leaving Earth’s atmosphere.

Blue and white clouds bleed into black, white stars like pinpricks appearing on the horizon, and it’s beautiful. For half a second he forgets where he is, what’s happening to him- and then what looks like billowing black smoke and smog starts to swirl around him, flashes of lightning in between the dark clouds, and Donald's face falls.

“What?” Scrooge asks, crowding past Della once he watches the dread rise on Donald's face.

He’d almost made it, too.

“A cosmic storm.” He says breathlessly, overwhelmed suddenly by how out of his depth he was- the Spear of Selene begins to shake and Donald grabs the stick tightly, trying to steady her, and he feels like he’s holding a live wire as it trembles beneath his hands.

“What? No! The skies were clear!” his sister yelps and there’s fear in her voice.

They’re yelling, telling him to try and avoid it, pull up- but there’s nowhere to go where it won’t reach him- and he can see through it, almost, like he’s flying through a tunnel. Maybe if he could just- just make it to the end-

Their yelling turns to white noise under the thundering of his heart in his ears when the ship appears. It’s massive, shaped like a dome with an orange beak at the front, so entirely foreign and terrifying he's struck dumb by the shock and fear lancing through his system, right in the middle on the cosmic storm, the epicenter. It’s so much bigger than his tiny, tiny ship. He is all too aware, suddenly, how insignificant he is.

“Uncle Scrooge!” He cries out in blind fear, but when he looks back at the screen it’s black. The cosmic storm- or whatever that ship is- knocked out his radio. He’s flying right towards it.

He grabs the control and pulls sharply to the right just so he’s flying away from the thing, heart leaping into his throat when the massive duck bill begins to open. The Selene shudders but ever so faithfully turns, arching him away from whatever monstrosity he’d almost been forced to face.

And then a white light tears through the night sky and locks onto the Selene, a tractor beam, and yanks it backwards. Donald has half a second to curse himself for not buckling in before he’s thrown from his seat when the ship lurches sharply. He’s tossed out of the cockpit and down the ladder into the main communal space inside the ship, landing hard and sliding across the floor as the ship is manhandled across the stars. The ship shudders to a stop and he does too, he’s strewn across the floor, breathing hard.

There a sharp twinge in his left arm, and when he goes to push himself up it collapses under the pressure, but he couldn’t focus on it right now. His helmet cracked at some point in the chaos, hissing our air, and he pops it off and tosses it aside just to stop the noise so he can think. There’s a moment of silence and he struggles to his feet, glancing around, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The hatch in the cockpit makes a thunking noise, unlatching, and its opened. Donald backs away from the ladder, pressing himself flat against the farthest wall, eyes stuck on the opening above him. Slowly, smoke begins to filter in.

Donalds mind jumps into action and he dives for the supply closet, struggling with the combination for half a second before throwing it open as white smog fills the last breathable air he’d had. Either they were trying to poison him or knock him out, and he couldn’t let either happen. He rummages in it for half a second, pulling out exactly what he’d been looking for.

Oxy-Chew. If Donald made it back, he’d have to thank Gyro for that one.

He chews through a stick as fast as he can, smiling at the flavor, “Black licorice.” he mutters thankfully. Gyro had the worst taste, but luckily so did Donald.

As the gas fills the room, Donald clamps a hand over his beak so he won't breath anything but the oxy-chew in his mouth, skirting around the room to position himself half-hidden behind the supply closet, giving the ladder a wide berth. There's another sound and then there are footsteps in the cockpit, and sound of several something's coming down the ladder. When they get to the bottom, Donald almost swallows the gum in shock. They’re huge, with thick smooth purple skin, a purple suit on top Donald could have sworn was just an extension of its skin if not for the raised seams, and they’ve got duck feet and duck bills even though they are most certainly not ducks. They’re tall and lanky, sickeningly thin, with big arching metal shoulder pads, long spindly arms and blue gloves. There’s three of them, only one has a futuristic looking gun, and they sweep their eyes around the room.

Donald decides quickly that if he’s going down, he’s going down swinging.

He launches himself out from behind the closet with an angry wail, fists flying, and by sheer surprise he manages to take them down. He gets the one with the gun first, flinging the weapon across the room before climbing up the alien and kicking him in the face, using him as a springboard to leap at the next intruder and using the same tactic. He scrambles up the ladder while they lay there, stunned, and he paused at the open hatch, unsure of what’s on the other side. He squares his shoulder and leaps out of the hatch, into what he thinks might be his last fight.

The aliens are big and strong and he takes down, surprisingly, a lot more before they manage to subdue him. He bruised and sore and bleeding from where one had given him a wallop in the beak. He’s locked in futuristic looking handcuffs behind his back and when one of the Evronians yanks him along, his arm arcs with fire. He’s worsened whatever injury he’d gotten in the kidnapping. Oh god, it was starting to sink in, he’d been kidnapped.

They walk him through a series of interlocking hallways almost aimlessly, he’s certain they’re trying to disorient him but he keeps careful track of where they've been and starts building a map in his head. He’d been on adventures with Della and Scrooge, he knew how to keep his bearings when things were happening too fast, and he was great with his sense of direction. He could use those skills now. The walls of the ship are yellow, a sort of bronze color, with supports like ribs lining the passageways.

They lead him out into a large atrium, the black of space in front of them, stars blurring into white lines and Donald realizes with sinking certainty that they’re moving, and that they are moving away from earth. Away from home.

We’ll come for you, Della had said. Donald didn’t think they could come this far.

There's another alien here, but he’s different. He’s tall and purple with a duck bill, of course, but he’s dressed in heavy teal robes with ornate silver trim, and he has thick yellow protrusions coming out of his skull, almost like hair but too thick and rubbery for Donald to accurately compare the two. The aliens that dragged him in kick the back of his legs and force him to his knees, and they speak to the obviously higher ranking alien in front of them in a garbled language Donald knows doesn’t sound like anything on earth.

The alien in charge seems to move across the floor without lifting his feet, almost like he’s gliding, and it makes Donald shudder with how unnatural it is. He stops in front of Donald and looks him over, inspecting him sharply. His hands flash out, yanking a feather from his head roughly.

Donald hisses at the prick of pain, takes a startled inhale and, even though the oxy-chew is still steadily supplying him with oxygen, he realizes that he can breath this air too.

“I’m not trying to kill you, duck.” The alien says, regarding the feather in his hand, inspecting the pinprick of blood on the calamus, “My name is Gorthan, I am the head scientist of the Evronian Empire. My crew and I have been sent to Earth to observe your species.”

It sounds almost innocuous, but Gorthans voice is like honey mixed with arsenic, “Your species has a funny way of observing.” Donald grimaces.

“I am not afraid to seize an opportunity presented to me.” Gorthan tucks the feather into his sleeve, standing at his full height, “‘Be not afraid of greatness: Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.’ You are my opportunity to get a… much closer look at the earthlings. I have use for you yet.”

Donald grinds his teeth, “That shakespeare quote is a dirty joke.” He spits.

“Take him to the labs.” Gorthan dismisses with a sneer, and they drag him from the room.

“Aw Phooey.” Donald whispers mostly to himself.