The vast expanse of space seemed much less a frightening endeavor to explore ever since humanity pioneered the stars. It was all thanks to the age of exploration, to the settling of boots into foreign muck and the construction of massive space stations along the perimeters of potentially terrifying gas giants. Humanity tested its limits and pushed its boundaries to feel out where that final capacity may lay, though it had not been found yet. Massive empires and federations formed both militarily and from the need of cohesive trade and industry. A dotted spider web that stretched its sticky fingers toward whatever was within its grasp, yearning to expand and exploit. Such was man's fate; to live, and by living, to consume. Sometimes humanity found more than it was looking for.
A ship was pulled out of phase space once it entered the planet's gravity well, a low wake booming outward upon its arrival, rippling throughout the immediate vicinity of the cosmos. Internal diagnostic and calibrations simultaneously pushed the vessel into supercruise, thrusters flaring as a finer control took over maneuvering. The two inhabitants in the small frigate lurched forward, a shock and awe pushing them into the here and now. Demagol Sento was the first to rise, still groggy and weary from their journey which had felt like weeks. Aching joints stretched out, popping and cracking as the man looked over his body for signs of atrophy. Everything seemed to be fine for the time being, no significant muscle degradation.
"Fuckin' shit," Demagol groaned aloud, rubbing a coarse palm over a sore shoulder blade. "I knew that we shouldn't have traveled this far in one go. I feel like I got my ass kicked." Fingers combed black hair straight back along his head, a few stray strands stubbornly curling back down against his brow line.
"You knew, huh? You fuckin' knew?" Rang a familiar voice that Demagol wasn't ready to listen to yet. Zerimar, his co-pilot, had reentered the realm of consciousness with him. "Even when I said we should take that pit-stop around the halfway mark? You know? Refit? Refuel? Maybe dice our time up a little bit so I don't feel like my intestines are getting yanked out of my ass when we decide to shoot from the hip and do it in one go? Yeah?" Zerimar Oskilan was every bit as crude as Demagol and then some, having been his partner for the past year and a half or so.
"Oh shut the fuck up," Was Demagol's immediate retort. "We're on a strict time table and you know it. If we had set down for a pit-stop then you probably would have fuckin' wandered off like you always do. A dog without a god damn leash you are sometimes." Tired hands began to work over the dash and display of the ship's interface, ensuring that all systems were running nominally. "Everything's ship-shape, it seems."
"Of course it fuckin' is, it's my ship!" Zerimar was standing now, arching his back in a desperate attempt to pop those compressed vertebrae of his. "And don't get me started on you, ya fuckin' mule. Stubborn as all hell and never wanting to just step back and have some fun. A proper stick in the mud you fuckin' are." Settling into his pilot seat, Zerimar was keen to meet Demagol at every inch of their awakening petty squabble. "Oh, and pardon my belabored mewling so you can bitch instead, yeah? Get fucked."
"This isn't about whose is what, you arrogant dick. You're not my fuckin' keeper and we share this ship now." Muttered Demagol, sincerely unready to engage the day's fury with Zerimar chewing on his nerve endings the whole way. "Just one day can you wake up and not break my balls over everything under the sun?"
"The fuck it isn't? I remember when I found a certain somebody stranded on an undocumented planet, which mind you, is pretty fuckin' impressive considering how far humanity has spread at this point. A certain somebody who careened his ship into the surface and totaled it beyond repair. Some batshit-crazy hooligan who had been living with the wildlife for god-knows how long, muttering nonsense about psionic bullshit." Zerimar pressed on, temporarily taking control of the vessel so he could direct the path of their supercruise. "A right fuckin' loony you were. You know that, right? Prattling on and on about shit that doesn't make sense."
"It made fuckin' sense at the time, okay? Last I remember was getting shot out of space by some dickhead pirates and rocking my head against the glass of my cockpit. Probably concussed the shit out of myself. Considering I burned into the planet's atmosphere at terminal velocity, it's a fuckin' miracle that I survived to begin with." Demagol wasn't sure who exactly he was trying to convince, Zerimar or himself. Everything from that period of time seemed like a blur, like something was intentionally scraping away those memories as an act of some makeshift defense mechanism. "I don't even remember how long I was there."
"Too fuckin' long, I tell ya'." Zerimar adjusted the pitch and yaw of their ship, momentarily tossing about their unsettled, gurgling, spacesick stomachs. "You're a different breed, Demagol. All you've ever cared about since I met you was the mission at hand. I knew the Astral Phoenix- or whatever the fuck your code name is, was a hardass.." He paused for a second, punching in the coordinates for the planetary station they would be arriving at. "But I figured you'd give a shit about more than just the mission, these bounties we've been taking."
"I feel like I did at one point, I just don't remember. Something's blacking it out. All I know is that bounty hunting has always worked for me. It levels me out and provides me with a purpose. That shit I don't remember might be important, but I don't know. That trail's gone cold."
Zerimar formally dipped their trajectory toward the inner reaches of the gravity well, nearing the shuttle station in question. "You need to find yourself a fuckin' woman, man."
A ship was pulled out of phase space once it entered the planet's gravity well, a low wake booming outward upon its arrival, rippling throughout the immediate vicinity of the cosmos. Internal diagnostic and calibrations simultaneously pushed the vessel into supercruise, thrusters flaring as a finer control took over maneuvering. The two inhabitants in the small frigate lurched forward, a shock and awe pushing them into the here and now. Demagol Sento was the first to rise, still groggy and weary from their journey which had felt like weeks. Aching joints stretched out, popping and cracking as the man looked over his body for signs of atrophy. Everything seemed to be fine for the time being, no significant muscle degradation.
"Fuckin' shit," Demagol groaned aloud, rubbing a coarse palm over a sore shoulder blade. "I knew that we shouldn't have traveled this far in one go. I feel like I got my ass kicked." Fingers combed black hair straight back along his head, a few stray strands stubbornly curling back down against his brow line.
"You knew, huh? You fuckin' knew?" Rang a familiar voice that Demagol wasn't ready to listen to yet. Zerimar, his co-pilot, had reentered the realm of consciousness with him. "Even when I said we should take that pit-stop around the halfway mark? You know? Refit? Refuel? Maybe dice our time up a little bit so I don't feel like my intestines are getting yanked out of my ass when we decide to shoot from the hip and do it in one go? Yeah?" Zerimar Oskilan was every bit as crude as Demagol and then some, having been his partner for the past year and a half or so.
"Oh shut the fuck up," Was Demagol's immediate retort. "We're on a strict time table and you know it. If we had set down for a pit-stop then you probably would have fuckin' wandered off like you always do. A dog without a god damn leash you are sometimes." Tired hands began to work over the dash and display of the ship's interface, ensuring that all systems were running nominally. "Everything's ship-shape, it seems."
"Of course it fuckin' is, it's my ship!" Zerimar was standing now, arching his back in a desperate attempt to pop those compressed vertebrae of his. "And don't get me started on you, ya fuckin' mule. Stubborn as all hell and never wanting to just step back and have some fun. A proper stick in the mud you fuckin' are." Settling into his pilot seat, Zerimar was keen to meet Demagol at every inch of their awakening petty squabble. "Oh, and pardon my belabored mewling so you can bitch instead, yeah? Get fucked."
"This isn't about whose is what, you arrogant dick. You're not my fuckin' keeper and we share this ship now." Muttered Demagol, sincerely unready to engage the day's fury with Zerimar chewing on his nerve endings the whole way. "Just one day can you wake up and not break my balls over everything under the sun?"
"The fuck it isn't? I remember when I found a certain somebody stranded on an undocumented planet, which mind you, is pretty fuckin' impressive considering how far humanity has spread at this point. A certain somebody who careened his ship into the surface and totaled it beyond repair. Some batshit-crazy hooligan who had been living with the wildlife for god-knows how long, muttering nonsense about psionic bullshit." Zerimar pressed on, temporarily taking control of the vessel so he could direct the path of their supercruise. "A right fuckin' loony you were. You know that, right? Prattling on and on about shit that doesn't make sense."
"It made fuckin' sense at the time, okay? Last I remember was getting shot out of space by some dickhead pirates and rocking my head against the glass of my cockpit. Probably concussed the shit out of myself. Considering I burned into the planet's atmosphere at terminal velocity, it's a fuckin' miracle that I survived to begin with." Demagol wasn't sure who exactly he was trying to convince, Zerimar or himself. Everything from that period of time seemed like a blur, like something was intentionally scraping away those memories as an act of some makeshift defense mechanism. "I don't even remember how long I was there."
"Too fuckin' long, I tell ya'." Zerimar adjusted the pitch and yaw of their ship, momentarily tossing about their unsettled, gurgling, spacesick stomachs. "You're a different breed, Demagol. All you've ever cared about since I met you was the mission at hand. I knew the Astral Phoenix- or whatever the fuck your code name is, was a hardass.." He paused for a second, punching in the coordinates for the planetary station they would be arriving at. "But I figured you'd give a shit about more than just the mission, these bounties we've been taking."
"I feel like I did at one point, I just don't remember. Something's blacking it out. All I know is that bounty hunting has always worked for me. It levels me out and provides me with a purpose. That shit I don't remember might be important, but I don't know. That trail's gone cold."
Zerimar formally dipped their trajectory toward the inner reaches of the gravity well, nearing the shuttle station in question. "You need to find yourself a fuckin' woman, man."
Forever?
Oh, my darling,
If only you could see what war has done to me.
Oh, my darling,
If only you could see what war has done to me.
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Cold Trails - by deific - 09-08-2020, 05:35 PM
RE: Cold Trails - by deific - 09-08-2020, 06:48 PM
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RE: Cold Trails - by deific - 12-01-2020, 12:18 AM
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