Forum Saradas
Female Muscle Art - Female Muscle Fiction => Muscular Women Fiction => Topic started by: GLKnight on April 18, 2021, 06:05:14 pm
-
This will be a short story told in a few parts, as I got other projects going. Obviously inspired by Jebriodo's art (especially after the announcement of his most recent project, Savage Love).
_______________________________________________________
I was woken up by the sound of my Shay18 phone going off. As I fumbled for it, I cursed the fact that in the 130 years since Mervallus cornered the market and completely eradicated every other company in the communications tech industry, they had chosen to make things flatter and flatter until all we were left with were these foldable sheets of ionized metal and plastic. They're so easy to lose track of, you have no freaking clue...
Scraping the top of my dresser, I finally got my hand on it. With a flick of my wrist, the screen came to life, and I was met with the bulldog beauty pageant that was my coach.
"Get your ass up," he screamed at me. "We have an unexpected guest, and you're the only one who can handle'em!"
Naturally, I mumbled that I'd be there soon and climbed out of bed. 15 minutes later, I was clean, dressed and on my way. After stopping by Melody's for some tea, I made my way to Janetti's Gym. Normally, I'd be there to train. But today, as soon as I saw the crowd that had swarmed the place, I knew we had a big timer on our hands.
Now, here's the thing you gotta keep in mind: Janetti's isn't necessarily the place to breed champions. Sure, it's storied, what with all the historic fighters that came through. Some even legends in their own time. But title belts were always a little beyond our measure. I was hoping to change that, but being a Natural don't mean shit when you're on a title card that also has a Gener match on it. Those guys are fucking BEASTS, usually being close to 10 feet tall and built less like brickhouses and more like brick FACTORIES. I swear, one swing from one of'em and your head won't just be knocked clean off, it'd be in orbit around Mars by lunch.
Which made the crowd around the gym that more concerting, because it meant we had a Gener in the temple.
Dropping my bag by the ring, I looked around for either the star of today's show or Fuentes, the head coach. Imagine my surprise when I discovered coach first.
"You're late," he scolded me. "While you were getting your beauty sleep, I already got'em training in the dungeon."
I just rubbed my eyes and sighed.
"It's supposed to be my rest day, sir."
Without missing a beat, coach had one of his regular comebacks.
"And you'll have the rest of the day after you train and spar with our guest, you got me? They asked for you, specifically, Marco."
Coach bid me to follow. And when you're in the gym, you do what the coach tells you.
"I take it we've got a Gener in the house?"
"Yeah," the coach mumbled. "I know you're a Nat, but you're a title contender. You're our FACE, got me? And this Gener wanted you, for some God forsaken reason."
"So you're throwing me to the Gene spliced dogs, huh?"
As Fuentes reached the stairs to the lower level of the gym, he stopped and gave me a look.
"I'd watch who you call a dog, Marco. She's a second Gen Gener."
As I tried to put together what he was saying, he began to walk down the steps.
"W-WAIT," I called out as I ran after him. "SHE? I thought ALL Gener fighters were guys! And SECOND GEN? One of her PARENTS is a Gener, too?! I thought those genetics couldn't be passed?"
"Not this one," Coach said, smiling. "She takes after her father."
Reaching the open lower floor, I could immediately hear the sound of a heavy bag being worked over. It truly sounded like whoever was hitting it had more than enough strength to tear the bag apart, the chain off the ceiling AND a section of the floor and ceiling off, as well as leave a hole in the wall behind where the bag was AFTER it was punched clean through.
Coach put his hand on my chest and looked me in the eye.
"Now, you treat her with respect, you got me? I don't want word of any sort of bullshit you pulled getting back to her dad, comprende? You act like a pendejo, I'm going to let her old man have his way with you."
I just raised my hands and nodded, knowing full well what a Gener can do.
"Good," Coach said, leading me further into the semi-lit basement.
Soon, I saw a hulking figure off in the corner, working on the heavy bag. The way they moved, dressed all in grey and moving like a machine. The combos just seemed to pick up speed, and soon they were a blur of punches and dips. Each time they hit the bag, it felt like I was being slapped by the pure concussive force until, with one last massive hook, their punch ripped the bag clean in two. The fighter was not really breathing heavily, holding the pose for either their own amusement or because they knew we were here.
"Kid," Coach called out. "Your partner for the day's here."
The fighter relaxed as she rolled her shoulder.
"Thanks, Coach Fuentes. I know my dad sprung this on you last minute, but we both really thank you."
"No biggie," Coach said. "You know your dad's my best friend!"
I was suddenly starting to put the pieces together.
"Wait," I shouted. "BEST FRIEND? That's means-"
"That's right, kid! Marco "Mercury" Mercado..."
The fighter turned and dropped her hoodie, revealing a very pretty woman with long, dark hair, intense hazel eyes full lips and more atop a towering 11 ft. tall woman.
"Meet "The Sequel", Brandy "BLOCKBUSTER" Bustamante!"
My jaw dropped at the realization that I was meeting the daughter of one of the biggest stars on the planet, both literally AND figuratively.
-
An intersting start. I'm looking forward to the next part.
-
Next part soon. Currently in crunch mode for part of my book.
________________________________________________________________________________
"Oh my God," I muttered. "When you called me in, I didn't think it was for Bustamante's kid!"
"I'm 23," she told me, as she slipped off her training gloves. "So stop calling me a kid. You're only 24, yourself!"
I rubbed my face to help pull myself together.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Bustamante-"
"Brandy," she said, curtly.
"I'm sorry, Brandy. I know Coach is close friends with your father and all that, but you're a Gener and I'm a Nat. There's quite a bit of difference between the two of us. I'm not sure how-"
"Figure out how," Coach shouted as he walked away. "I got others I gotta train."
As he stomped off back upstairs, I took a look around the Dungeon, trying to figure out a game plan. We call it that because it's the least lit place in the gym, has all the heaviest weights, and is obviously at the bottom. So dark plus scary plus bottom of the building.... DUNGEON.
"So, what all have you done today, in terms of training?"
Watching the sheer thick wall that was Brandy walk past me giving me a slight chill, I continued to wrack my brain as she contemplated my question.
"I already upped my time on the 15 mile run by 2 minutes-"
"What's your time on that?", I asked her, expecting a typical answer.
What I got was-
"About 21 minutes, 44 seconds."
Yeah, I needed to stop thinking by Nat standards.
"Jesus," I marveled. "That's... 3 minutes faster than the RECORD!"
Brandy smiled at my reaction, beaming proudly. I had to admit, she did have a great smile.
"Keep in mind, that was a light run. Normally I run 100 a day."
That number made me lose my mind a bit. Come on, Marco! Turn on the charm!
"That's double the average length most Geners go for! You must be, like... A SUPER Gener or something!"
Brandy bust up laughing.
"A SUPER Gener?," she asked, hunched over and wheezing. "That sounds like something my DAD would star in!"
She struck a quick superhero pose and stuck her chin in the air.
"Don't worry, Ma'am! Doctor Dinosaur will be put back among the other fossils where he belongs!"
"And don't forget about your plucky sidekick," I said, hopping to her side and posing. "Kid Mercury!"
To say we were in stitches was kind of an understatement. But as we regained our composure, I could feel the unspoken of tension from when I first saw her fading away.
"Fuck," Brandy huffed. "I needed that."
"I know what you mean," I told her. "When I first saw you, I got a bit scared."
Brandy shot me a puzzled look.
"You were scared? I'm standing with one of the best right now! I can't ask for a better trainer, if only for a day!"
"No way! You're a Gener! You could eat me for breakfast and not have to pass anything! You're scary big! And for a Gener, that's a net positive!"
An embarrassed smile crossed her lips, followed closely by her hand pushing me a good five feet. As I rolled across the floor, she quickly went to help me up.
"OH GOD," she said, panicking. "I'M SO SORRY! ARE YOU OKAY?"
She grabbed my arm by my shoulder, and I swear, I've never been handled in that way by ANYONE before. The way she held me made me feel like a stuffed toy in a kid's hand. Scratch that. With how little effort she put into picking me up, I felt like I weighed LESS than a stuffed toy to her. Like I was literally nothing. Yet here she was, concerned over my well being. Was this something she had to get used to, growing up? She is a Gener, after all. I'm not that light, maybe 170 lbs, give or take. So straight picking me up like you would a jump rope? She had to be ridiculously strong. Might be the first thing we need to test out.
"I'm okay," I told her, putting my hands up as she dusted me off. "No harm, no foul!"
Still, she was fretting over me.
"Dad always told me that I should do things lighter than I think I should! I don't know my own strength, sometimes!"
"Yeah, well that's an easy lead into my next question. Have you done any lifting today? Besides me, of course."
The look of reticence on Brandy's face told me all I needed to know.
"Might as well do some stress tests," I told her, urging her to follow me to The Ramparts, aka "the wall of giant plates what stacked on or near the southern end of the room".
"What would you like me to do?", Brandy asked.
"Just some basics," I told her. "Some curls, some deadlifts, some-"
I heard a zipper being pulled. Being curious, I turned to look at Brandy, and... WOW.
The girl was BUILT. We're talking old school, wall o' meat, built like three oxes put together kind of built. I hadn't realized it, as looking at someone wearing sweats can be deceptive, but she was FILLING her hoodie to damn near maximum capacity. Letting it fall to the floor, I took in the way her arms were sloped like rolling hills, the mountains that were her delts. The rivers that were her veins snaking along her forearms and up to her shoulders. The broad, imposing chest capped by a pair of voluminous pale breasts covered by a deep royal purple muscle tee that only worked to highlight her incredible taper.
My breath was taken away by the monumental being that was the 11 ft. Second Gener before me. If this was the future, then the future was gonna be BIG.
-
Next part coming soon. Still got a lot of things on my plate at the moment, but I'll keep at this one until it's finished, then get back to Getting With The Goddesses.
________________________________________________________________________________
I had to tear myself away from looking at her. Normally, I go for the more thicker girls. Y'know, the ones who stay healthy but don't really work out except to look good. But for some reason, as I looked at Braden Bustamante's kid, I couldn't help but notice that everything seemed... proportional. That her size and build just WORKED for her. I mean, she wasn't model pretty. But she had this real girl next door kind of charm that made her all the more approachable. But I couldn't ruminate on that. I was brought in to do my job, and that's what I aimed to do.
I quickly grabbed two box bars. Mostly because of its stability due to its adjustable frame being based on the Yoke Walk, but smaller and meant to be used with one hand. But the other reason is that you could add several sets of plates depending on how far out you set the actual frame. And for Brandy's enormous build, the box bar was probably the only enclosed free weight bar we had that could take what Brandy probably normally throws.
"We're gonna start with some curls," I told her as I adjusted the bars to their max settings. "Pick some plates you're comfortable with."
Walking up to the wall, Brandy carefully scrutinized every bit of iron on the Rampart. She took her time, looking very carefully and thoroughly. As she moved to the far side of the plates, I slapped the on button for the Grav Display. Watching the anti-gravity machine flicker and hum to life as its light blue suffused the darkened area we were in. I put the box bars on top, watching as they hovered in mid-air before turning towards my guest.
"So did you-"
My mind boggled as I watched her gently put down two stack of plates that went up to my knee.
"I think this'll do," she told me, smiling.
Running over to check them out, my mind went places without my body again.
"There are all 100's," I said. "Are you saying you can do TWO THOUSAND POUNDS for your curls?!
"No," she admitted, looking shy. "You said it'd be a... stress test. And I wanna try with 250 over my current max. "
I sighed and stood up, running my hand through my hair.
"Look, this is a stress test. No need to go that hard, okay?"
She just nodded before going back, grabbing a shorter stack of hundreds and two fifty pound plates off the Rampart and adding it to the pile. I just walked over and put my hand on her arm. As I did, I couldn't help but notice that though her arms did have some fat, the amount was far lower than I thought. Because I could easily feel the potential striations that lay beneath, tensely packed and thickly corded with incredible power. One of the benefits Geners received from pre-Natal modifications. And with how Brandy turned out, I was left wondering what a child who inherited those traits could be capable of.
"Now, let's weight up the Boxes and see what you're capable of, alright?"
Brandy gave me a confident look, huffing as she nodded before leaning down to grab the plates. Soon, the Boxes were stacked on the Grav Display, waiting to be used.
"You ready?", I asked her. "Let's start with some basic upper body lifts."
Shaking her arms and breathing deeply, Brandy gave me another nod. Then, she gripped the bars, pulling them out of the display. I watched as she wobbled slightly as she was pulled down a bit towards the front but quickly regained her balance.
"Alright, twenty hammer curls! Go!"
I watched as she methodically lifted the boxes, steadily breathing as she brought both free weights to chest level before slowly putting them down. In less than a minute, she grunted as she cranked out the last two.
"Good," I called out. "Twenty cross-body curls! Go!"
Without missing a beat, she continued lifting those weights. 3500 lbs. on both arms, and she was moving like a MACHINE. The look of pure determination on her face as she slowly breathed in and out as she switched arms was impressive. As she lifted, I carefully scrutinized her motions and the way she moved. Soon, she quickly finished that set.
"Twenty EZ curls! Go!"
I could see that she was starting to strain as her arms were slowly shook. By five, she was sweating. By ten, her breathing was getting a little ragged. By fifteen, she was unintentionally slowing down. And by twenty, I realized what she was actually doing.
"Weights down," I shouted, waiting for her to stand back up. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR DAMN MIND?!"
Her eyes went wide, putting her hands up as I charged directly at her.
"Did I do something wrong?", she asked, wide eyed/
"Don't give me that," I shouted at her. "WHY WERE YOU TRYING TO DO ISOMETRICS AT THE SAME TIME?!"
"I... I wasn't-"
"Yes you were," I shouted. "You were LOCKING longer than you need to and at the WRONG TIMES for lifting! I don't CARE if you're a Gener! You lock up and you can get SERIOUSLY HURT when you're at your max!"
As I let my words sink in, I saw the look on her face. That pained, slightly fearful expression someone gets when they're never actually been scolded before in their life. It was a clear possibility that I may have slightly overreacted. But when you had a friend who could no longer box due to badly breaking his arm from combining the wrong exercises and breaking his leg from the weight still in his hand, you'd react badly too. Regardless, I knew I had gotten too caught up in my realization of what she was doing that I let it get the better of me.
"I... I'm sorry," I said, scratching my jaw. "Just don't combine exercises, okay? Isometrics is meant for low added weights, AT MOST. It's not the right way, and I don't want to see you get hurt."
"...I'm sorry, too," Brandy replied. "I never really had to worry about form growing up, since my dad always okayed how I was doing things. But you're taking the time to help me, so I should listen to my coach."
"I was called in for sparring," you tell her. "But I wanted to get a good estimate of where you stand so I can understand areas you need improvement in, as well as how you'd fare in the ring. Weight training is one of them."
Brandy seriously considered what I was saying, before smiling.
"I get it! It's to help with how you approach the sparring, as well as warming me up! Tricky, tricky!"
"Guilty as charged," I said. "Now, how about we finish the stress test and then we can get to some of the other equipment down here?"
"That sounds," she said, grunting as she picked the weights back up. "Like a PLAN!"
I smiled as she finally understood what I was getting at.
"Then let's GO," I called out. "Twenty shoulder shrugs! Go!"
-
Interesting so far, good dialog and flow. Nice effort, and no rush on your writtings.
-
Great work so far. I'm very interested to see where the story goes next.
-
I put her through 20 of every single free weight lift I could think of by the time we were done nearly 30 minutes later. The sweat was pouring down her body as she rested on the bench, panting and gasping as she had never been pushed to her max like that before. I've never seen anyone use several liter jugs for water bottles before, but she was gulping down that h2o like a whale.
"Damn," Brandy spat out. "Haven't felt... hah... this way in YEARS!"
"Let me guess," I said, grabbing a jug so I could refill it in a nearby sink. "They let you coast because you're a Gener, right? Or maybe cause of your dad?"
The titanic girl glumly nodded at my words. I turned on the faucet and waited as it refilled.
"Knew it had to be one of the two. It's one of the weaknesses of Power and Privilege."
Brandy shot me a questioning look.
"What do you mean by 'weakness', Marco?"
I turned off the sink and twisted the cap on her bottle. Which is honestly no small feat as the thing's practically a barrel, and was now full of water. So that meant it was heavy as shit to lift, too.
"Having... NGH! Having power and privilege means- GAH, this fucker's heavy! It means not being CHALLENGED."
I unceremoniously placed her water next to her feet, shaking my hand out from the strain.
"Is not being challenged a bad thing?", she asked, scooping up her water with ease and taking a sip.
"It is if you're either a fighter or a good person," I replied, sitting next to her. "If you're a fighter, you're always looking to get better, do better. And if you're a good person, it's all about BEING better. Not in that 'I'm better than you, nyah nyah' way. I mean doing right by others, y'know? Helping out when you can, no matter how small-"
I pointed at myself when I said "small", then slowly pointed at herself.
"...Or BIG they are."
"I think I get you," she said. "Like, I may be a Gener. But if I can use my size to my advantage, or the fact my dad's 'Blockbuster' Bustamante, to help others, then that's being better, right?"
I was visibly not entirely pleased with her answer.
"Not quite," I told her. "Lemme use an example. I'm a Nat, right?"
"Right," Brandy replied.
"And if I was to fight, say, a Gener, I'd get DESTROYED, right?"
"Right," she said, following where I was going.
"But there are things that I can show you as both a Pro AND a Natural that you won't see any Gener capable of doing, thereby helping YOU out in the ring by improving your fighting strategy."
With that, I reached down into my gym bag and quickly started to tape up my hands.
"So what you're saying," Brandy said as she stood up. "Is that perspective and experience will help me overall?"
"Yep," I told her as I finished taping up my left hand. "Those are the two key elements a good fighter or a good person needs in order to truly improve. Perspective for how someone fights, and experience for the training and techniques to be at the top of your game and handle things properly."
I could see Brandy getting excited at the lesson I was giving her.
"I think my dad said something like that, once. It's not about the POWER you have, but the perspective others give you and experience you gain that matters."
"That's one of the things a lot of people don't get," I added as I finished taping up my right hand. "They see Geners as brutes and powerhouses. But here I am with not only the first FEMALE fighting Gener, but she's also a SECOND Gener, as well."
I stood up and slipped my gloves over my shoulder, my lucky blue and silvers that helped me get my 17 win streak that got me the title fight for next month. With a quick flurry of shadowboxing, I got in the zone before rolling my shoulders and neck. Brandy was all smiles watching me get focused.
"You got power, but we'll still need to change your game up a bit. Are you in or out?"
"I'm IN," Brandy exclaimed, super excited to begin as she walked towards the ring.
I quickly realized that Brandy might be thinking something entirely different. One tug on the back of her shirt and she stopped.
"Uh, I was talking about your standing game. Are you an IN fighter or an OUT fighter?"
Brandy's face quickly matched her name as she blushed at the realization that she got a bit too excited.
"Oh, uh... Both?"
"You don't know your own style yet, do you?", I asked, shaking my head.
"N-no."
I sighed heavily and began walking towards the Form Trainer.
"Looks like we need to figure that out first," I said, wearily. "Follow me..."
-
Now, here's something most don't know about the Form Trainer. Its A.I. is specifically coded to work on a predictive system, so that whoever is using it is shown their flaws and strengths after every session. Analyzing their natural movements, stances and more to help the trainee learn what their natural fighting style is. More often than not, the fifteen foot monstrosity of a machine is used to help a newbie figure out where they should begin. At Janetti's, we have a nickname for the damn thing.
"So, where do I stand before we turn this thing on?", Brandy asked.
"On the red dot," I said, pointing to the spot right in front of her as I went to the console off to the side.
"Oh," she mumbled, walking onto where I told her to stand. "So, do I just do some shadowboxing? Or maybe I hit some pads?"
"Well," I said, smirking. "You gotta go one full minute with the machine."
When I pressed the button, she looked like she was about to shit a cinder block as the many arms and pads that hid inside the machine popped out from.
"I GOTTA FIGHT THI-"
The sound of the fight bell rang loudly as the machine sprang into action, quickly throwing a punch she was clearly not ready for, causing her to stumble after hitting her solidly in the face.
"Treat it like a MATCH," I yelled at her. "Keep focused and try to throw some punches like they taught you! You got this, Brandy!"
"ARE YOU KIDDING M- OOF!"
Another body blow caused her to fold, wobbling as she turtled up. It was at that moment that I realized that, although she was taught how to throw a punch, she was never really put to the test. Most likely afraid to hurt Bustamante's kid. So I reached for the button to shut it down. Suddenly, I heard her howling as she began to punch back, caught in a full rage. As she swayed out of the way of the incoming arms, her arms were like missiles aimed straight at the pads behind them. The impacts of her fists were sending the pads wide, rocketing around almost as fast as they were being hit. I laughed as I saw her going to town, forcing her way in until she reached the center pad, indicating the distance needed for a proper body blow. She ducked and wove through every strike, avoiding every possible hit.
Then, with one massive BAM! She hit the pad, causing the Form Trainer to bend, sending sparks flying as the arms came to a stop. Not realizing she had just killed a $800,000 machine made out of Titanium and Valtrevian steel alloy with a single blow, she fell on her ass, panting like a dog as her adrenaline was riding roughshod over her body.
"Holy shit," I shouted, turning the console off to run to her aide. "You just killed the Trainer, kid!"
"D-Don't," she gasped. "Don't call me... 'kid'!"
The look in her eyes, it scared the CRAP out of me.
"Okay," I said, pulling over her water jug. "No more 'kid' from me... kiddo."
As she pushed me to the floor beside her, she started laughing uncontrollably. I don't know if it was her fear winding down, or that I somehow did yet didn't keep my promise. Pretty sure it was the fact that I was willing to push her and kept surprising both me and herself. But at that moment, it didn't matter. As she lay on the cold floor, smiling and laughing, I felt... I don't know, a sense of being in the right place? I don't know how to put it into words, really. What I can say is it felt good to be right by her, at that moment.
"When that thing... HIT me," she groaned as she sat up. "I've never felt anything hit that hard before!"
"It was set for a Gener," I told her. "That's the kind of thing to expect in a match."
"Then I gotta get used to it," she said, looking resolute.
"So you're here to become a fighter?", I asked her, putting the pieces together.
She looked me in the eyes. There was a determination there, as well as...
"One of the reasons, yeah."
That's when I saw it. I was mentally kick myself for not realizing it sooner as I saw the way she was smiling.
She was here specifically for time with ME.
-
Things are becoming more interesting with each chapter. Great work
-
Bump for more. Great story and pace. Love the fact that she is not a psycho.
-
Great to see more. The writing is still good, keep up the good effort.
-
Now, here's something you gotta keep in mind about me: I'm kind of dense, always have been. I'm not saying I'm not smart, oh no. It just... takes me a little longer to put the pieces together. Education wasn't a chore, especially with the developments after the Antrayan Education Reform Act back in the 2600's. The issue was that my body, and thus certain parts of my brain, were always quicker than my retentiveness. "Instinctual Reflexes acting at 120% capacity," as one Bio-Engineer put it. Meant I was a natural fighter, through and through. But put me in a room with more than two conversations going, and I couldn't tell you shit besides some errant names and facial features. Hell, put me in a room with just one person, and it'll take me time to pick up what they're really there for.
Thus the whole situation with Brandy.
"Brandy," I asked, finally working up the nerve. "You're not here to just train with me, are you?"
Imagine a girl harboring a crush on you being called out for it. Now imagine if that girl was almost 12 feet tall, had a physique that made the biggest male bodybuilders to shame in the off-season, and then they went crimson with embarrassment. That was Brandy in a nutshell.
"W-what," she stammered. "I just wanted t-to train and get to know y- EEP!"
The way this gigantic lady just squeaked was fucking ADORABLE. I had been around girls who acted cute to get their way, but I never met anyone who had done that NATURALLY. She truly was fangirling hard. I knew I had to break this awkward moment, so I stuck to why I was called in on my rest day.
"W-well, since the Meat Grinder that was the Trainer broke, we should do some sparring! Are you gonna change orrrrr-"
As I turned to talk to her, all I saw was Brandy turned away from me, bent at the waist as she pulled her sweats off and inadvertently showing me her fighter shorts underneath. But let's just say that, when a cute girl is leaning down away from you as you stand behind her, it's not her clothes you're paying attention to. Because HOLY SHIT, were those pants and shorts much tighter than I realized. The sheer SIZE of her legs and ass was startling, but it was her symmetry that caught my attention. Every section of muscle was perfectly defined, better suited for an anatomy book on appealing shapes. I don't know what it was, but when I got to see the full package, as it were, I was awestruck. I'd say she was perfectly designed to be this way, if she wasn't already a Gener. Which means she literally WAS designed to be this way. Or her dad was, at least.
"N-nice shorts," I stuttered, trying to keep my cool.
"Th-thanks," Brandy said, trying to do the same. "I wanted a pair j-just like dad's."
I started rubbing my neck, not looking at her for fear of... I don't know, doing something out of character for me.
"It's a good color set for you," I told her. "The green and white."
We unknowingly let the moment linger for a moment before I got my head back in the game.
"So," Brandy said, nervously looking at me as I smiled nervously at her. "Sh-shall we get in the ring?"
"Right," I eagerly said, quickly slipping on my gloves. "Sparring! To help you figure out what type of fighting fits you best! Dungeon? Adjust lights! FIGHT NIGHT SETTING!"
As the lighting quickly shifted to give more attention to the ring, I smiled as I walked towards it. Sprinting up the steps, I quickly ducked between the ropes and stepped in. I don't know what it is, but I always feel electric when I climb in. It feels like the highest spot in existence. Whether I'm fighting in the Zalvezic Quadrant or back in the burrows on Earth, this ring, this twenty foot by twenty foot squared circle is the dead center of the universe. To me, this truly was home.
"Alright," I said, smacking my gloves together and loosening up my shoulders and neck. "Are you ready for a little one on... one?"
Watching Brandy just gently step over the ropes like a log or a hedge, somehow looming larger than ever made me shut up quickly. Maybe it was the lights, or the deeper gloom that lay behind her or something else. But it struck me that I, as a Nat, was about to go toe to toe with a Gener. Even if it WAS just for sparring, I knew that one wrong move, and I'd be in the hospital for a good stint or worse. That's the power level between the two genetic classes. It didn't matter how cute I thought Brandy was, she was clearly bigger and stronger than most other Geners I had ever seen. She had the full capability to kill me with one blow.
"Ready as I'll ever be," Brandy told me.
"You know the rules," I continued. "Three rounds of sparring for 3 minutes each. We're gonna treat these like full rounds. No TKO's. As part of the Fight Night setting, the Dungeon will be recording the session for review. The corners are auto filled, so the Dungeon's computer will also be the cornermen. Are you comfortable with that?"
Brandy popped her mouth guard in, and smiled.
"Let's make it interesting," she said. "A wager."
"A wager," I asked. "What do you mean?"
As she rolled her shoulders, wiggling her arms and loosening up, I could see this gleam in her eye.
"I win, you have to do one thing of my choosing. It can be anything I say, but I promise it won't be hopefully humiliating."
"And what if I win?", I asked.
Brandy smirked at me, playfully.
"IF you win, I have to do one thing of YOUR choosing. Does that sound fair?"
I smirked as I looked her over, sizing her up in her green and white ensemble.
"Deal," I said, popping in my mouth guard. Holding her gloves up, Brandy broke into a happy smile as I touched gloves. The two of us backed into our corners, waiting for the Holo-Ref to start the match. Soon, a computerized referee appeared in the ring, pointing at me and then Brandy. When we each gave it a nod, it nodded back.
"FIGHT," it shouted, crossing its hands and disappearing as the first round bell rang out.
-
Living up to my name, I rushed out as fast as I could. But I quickly went on the defensive as I saw Brandy doing the same, as well. I immediately felt like a little Slider hoverbike that was heading right at a transport ship jumping out of a drop gate at full speed. There just seemed to be this roiling wake behind her as she cocked her arm back, barely giving me a second to step out of its way as she took her shot straight at me.
You gotta keep in mind, there's always a draft no matter who throws a punch. But the one thing I learned that day is that the punch of a Gener is so strong, it's effectively a strong gust of wind. I nearly shit my pants as her glove sail past my face from her right hook. My skin rippled slightly with how much wind she kicked up, causing me to jump back.
"Holy shit," I muttered, focusing on my footwork as she turned to chase me down. Swing after swing, she came for me. Looking at her face, it frightened me how intensely she was focusing on landing her blows. Whoever taught her to fight did their fucking job to an unnaturally good degree. I did all I could, trying to dodge blow after blow. Feeling some glancing hits on the top of my head or arms, and being battered by the jet streams that followed in her wake. But over time, I saw her slowing down bit by bit. She may have been trained well, but putting everything in a fight drains you in ways you don't expect. Even superhumans have limits, I guess.
There was one major problem: I'm not a Gener. And since today was supposed to be my rest day, my tank was almost empty and my body was feeling the strain of a full week of training.
Looking at the clock, I saw I had less than a minute left before I could take a break. I smiled. But I soon realized I messed up, big time, as I looked back and saw Brandy's arm was already heading directly at me for a body blow. I visibly panicked, putting up my guard only to feel her giant gloved fist smack my forearms and make me airborne. Throwing me hard across the ring and into the corner, slamming into the turnbuckle wall. My mouth guard shot out of my mouth as I cried out, awkwardly falling into a heap on the mat below. The count began as I struggled to stand.
"Marco," Brandy shouted, the digital referee popping up to hold her back from running to my side. "I'm so sorry! Are you-"
"I told you," I groaned, slamming my fists down to try and psyche myself up as I pushed. "Treat this like a match!"
As I stood at the 7 count, I knew I wasn't going to last long. My arms were going numb, my back was spasming to the point of making it hard to breathe, and I was clearly wobbling. But a nod to the ref, and the spar continued.
Unfortunately, the end had arrived.
As soon as she was okayed, the titanic cutie I had trained for about two hours charged at me once again, this time swinging upwards for a textbook southpaw uppercut. I tried to slip to my right, but my back chose that exact moment to spasm and lock up, placing my directly in her punch's path. I tried to throw my arms up to guard once again, but it only tightened my back up further. Leaving a large enough gap for her glove to slide through and make contact with my jaw. The first thing I felt beyond her fist was my feet losing contact with solid ground as I was sent sailing through the air. I watched as Brandy seemed to shrink as I flew over the ropes, turning my eyes upward in time to slam into the ceiling of the Dungeon, then spinning around in time to bounce off the floor a good 25 feet away.
All I could hear was Brandy screaming my name as I fell into unconsciousness.
-
This is the good stuff right here, fantastic work so far. I’m actually engaged in the world building, which I don’t always get to say in muscle fetish writing.
-
Next thing I knew, I was in a tank, floating in some super heavy, 02 enriched suppression fluid as some robotic arms were twirling around me. Which meant only one thing: I was in a Medical facility being taken care of by Bio-Engineers. I felt like I had been run over by something big and heavy, and then they parked on my face. Everything hurt, everything was slow and I was a bit cranky. Slowly lifting my arm, I loudly knocked on the pane to try and get someone's attention. Thankfully, one of the Medical assistants heard me tapping and rushed into the room to check on me before rushing back out to get someone. Soon, a Medical team came in, working swiftly to extract me. As I was allowed back on solid ground, one of the assistants placed something in front of me just in time for me to start puking up the fluid in my lungs and stomach. Imagine puking up cold liquid rocks, and you'll get a good start to understanding why I try to stay out of the facilities as much as possible.
I heard the growl of the old bulldog himself as he pushed his way into the room.
"Get outta my way! I gotta take care of Marco!"
As he burst in, Coach just took one look at me and stopped as I spit out the last of the pinkish fluid.
"Hellza," Coach muttered. "You had us really worried, Marco!"
"I'll be alright,"" I huffed, reaching out for some support. Quickly lending me his shoulder, Coach carried me over to a chair.
"You don't understand! You were out for a while!"
I groaned as I sat down, rubbing my neck and shoulders.
"So I was knocked out for a couple hours! Big whoop!"
He knelt down, looking me square in the eye.
"No, Marco. You were out for two WEEKS."
I looked at Coach, trying to see if he was joking. Sadly, he was always damn good at bluffing. So I looked around the room.
"Come on, tell me the truth! It was only a couple hours... right?"
One of the assistants quietly walked over.
"Mr. Mercado," he said. "I'm sorry, but it's the truth. You've been in the Suppression Chamber for 16 days, in order to let the attonites repair your bones and tissue while your mind worked itself back to consciousness."
I fell into a panic attack at that moment, my heart hammering in my chest as my ears began to ring.
"No," I spat out, traying to stand as Coach and some assistants tried to restrain me. "No, you're kidding! You've GOT to be kidding! No jokes, okay? I got a title fight next week to-"
"Marco," Coach shouted. "The fight was supposed to be last week, but it was called off! Now calm down!"
"Last WEEK," I shouted. "I have a fight to get ready for! Let me go! I gotta train! I gotta-"
I felt a massive hand on my shoulder, forcing me back into my seat with incredible ease. Looking up, I saw Brandy looking down on me, tears in her eyes.
"Please," she begged me. "Calm down, Marco! It's going to be okay!"
I looked up at Brandy and Coach, fully on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
"Brandy," I asked. "Wh-why are you here?"
Coach kneeled down, taking up my field of vision with a look of concern.
"She never left your side, kid."
I turned towards Brandy, who looked like she was about to cry herself before looking back at Coach.
"I had a shot," I told him. "I should... Did they..."
I began to hyperventilate at that point, realizing that per the rules of the UBA, since I had to be hospitalized, I had lost my chance at winning the title that I had spent the last 3 years working towards. Failing out of higher education, finding my love of fighting, the years of training, my record of 23 fights with a win/loss record of 20 and 3 and 18 knockouts. All practically pointless as I had to start from the bottom all over again.
I felt Coach's hand on my shoulder.
"I won't dust ya," Coach told me. "It's gonna be hard work. But you're a Champion, kid. This is just a setback, understand? Just rest up and-"
Suddenly, I could feel Brandy's massive arms wrapping around me. I don't know what it was, but her incredible strength felt... warm. Comforting. Protective. Like her strength was there to shield me from the sudden darkness that was trying to claw its way into me. I fully broke down, feeling like I had enough privacy in her embrace to allow myself time to feel weak. Her tears falling on my shoulder as she cried with me.
"This is my fault," she admitted. "If I hadn't been too focused on the match, I could have held back. And you would have had that fight and-"
I wrapped my arms as much as I could around Brandy's immense torso.
"Don't," I told her. "Don't go there, alright? I don't want you to think that shit. It was an accident, plain and simple."
Coach ushered everyone out of the room to allow Brandy and to just cry and give each other support
-
Despite all the advancements of the 28th century, the one thing that Med-Engineering can't do is properly speed up the onset healing process. After I was released, I spent the next two weeks dealing with slight tremors from my nerves having been reconfigured, dizzy spells as my brain dealt with the concussion and more. Not gonna dust ya, it sorta sucked badly. Imagine trying to get a cup of hydro, next thing you're dropping the microplast onto the floor from your hand choosing to vibrate like a Shay16 about to phase into a parallel reality cause you set it on Alert vibration.
Thankfully, I Brandy had given me her number and we kept in contact while I was downed. She's honestly cool, far more down to Earth than you expect of some Mega Celeb's kid. About two days before I was given the okay, she told me over scribe that she was considering giving up on training because of how bad she hurt me.
Brandy: I always knew I was strong
Brandy: But I nearly killed you
Brandy: If I was in a real match, I... I don't know
She was at a crossroads all fighters had to come to. Whether to push and understand the depths of violence, or back away and accept the freedom of sport. As my fingers slightly twitched and trembled, I typed out the one thing that was on my mind since the hospital visit.
Me: Infighter
She quickly began typing
Brandy: I'm sorry...?
Me: You're an infighter
Brandy: What does that have to do with anything?
Me: Remember when I asked what type of fighting you do?
Brandy: Yeah...?
Me: When you broke the Meat Grinder and later sent me flying, you were moving like an infighter
Me: Your dad's an outfighter
Me: But despite having a longer reach, you like to get up close and personal. So you go for a more intimate fighting style
Me: How one fights reflects their personality. And you're a kindhearted person who is all about intimacy
Me: Thus... infighter
I waited a minute to let Brandy consider what I was saying. Letting my fingers ride out the last little bit of tremoring as I waited for her response
Brandy: Even after what I did, you still remembered?
Me: Well, yeah
Me: Honest, I haven't stopped thinking about it
Brandy: There's a lot of ways to take that, you know
Fuck, I knew what she was implying. But reality, I haven't stopped thinking about it.
No, that's not quite right.
I haven't stopped thinking about HER.
Me: Yeah, you're right about that
Me: But... not dusting ya?
Me: I think you have something worth pursuing
After I hit send, I realized I was letting script do a lot of work for me. Hinting, hiding, conveying and potentially more. All that really mattered was whether or not Brandy was getting what I put out there. After a full five minutes, Brandy replied back to me.
Brandy: I'll give it some thought
After that, she immediately went inactive. I put my phone down and put my head in my hands. There were butterflies in my gut and my heart was pounding like a pulsar drive. Soon, I was giggling at the sheer audacity of it all. Did I REALLY just do some high school kinda flirting shit with the daughter of Blockbuster Bustamante, one of the BIGGEST celebs that lived on this world?!
-
Another great part. Awesome work so far.
-
"Marco! Marco! How long have you and Bustmante's daughter been dating?"
When I was finally given the okay to go back to training, I walked into the gym with a full flurry of popper's blinding me with the full light of a thousand nebulae going off in my face with their damn recorders. I literally had to block my eyes through my visor as I ran inside. I was peppered with questions as I bolted in. When you live with any sort of celebrity, there will always be people wanting to dig to find whatever they can. Except for a few good ones, the lot were opportunistic sentient scum looking to make a cred or two on the names and misfortunes of others.
"You parasites better fuck off," Coach growled as he charged out of the front doors. "I may be older, but I can still knock you on yer ass like I did Melovar in '74! Now LEAVE MERCURY ALONE!"
I had never seen a crowd of people scatter from the threats of an old man before. But considering that man was my Coach, 17 time Galactic Heavyweight Champion Jorge "Neutron" Fuentes, one of the greatest Nat Heavy Hitters of all time? I'd be scared, too! Hell, he's HIT me before, when I was acting like a snot nosed punk my first day boxing. I was being a little shit, and he pulled me into the ring. Threw some gear at me and told me to get ready. When I asked why, he said we're sparring as he put his own stuff on. I laughed, called him a crazy old man and got ready. The bell rung and the next thing I knew, I was on my knees gasping for air as Coach took off his gear. You should have seen the freaking bruise on my stomach! Dark and mottled for two weeks! I knew I found the right place to train at on that day.
As I walked inside, I was greeted with a bunch of fighters of all stripes as they welcomed me back. But as I thanked everyone for their concern, I scanned the entire place for Brandy. But no matter where I looked, I couldn't see her. When I got a moment, I hurried down into the Dungeon, but it was completely empty. As I went back upstairs, my spirit was deflated.
"I haven't seen her since," Coach told me as I got back to the main floor. "I thought about reaching out to her, but I realized it might be better if I gave her and her old man some space. This was just as hard on her as it was on you."
"I don't know," I told him. "She was trained to fight, you know."
Coach scratched the back of his head as he grimaced.
"Yeah, but unlike you, she actually hurt someone bad enough to put them in the med facility. That kind of trauma's a next level reckoning shit. It might have scared her off for good."
I suddenly realized what Coach's words meant.
"You were TRYING to scare her off," I accused, staring him in the eye. "Weren't you?"
Coach's look sunk, as he turned back towards the main gym.
"Braden asked me to do it," he said. "Her dad didn't want her in the ring, so I put her with you because she liked you and we hoped the power difference might show what this kind of life involves."
With that, he left me to my thoughts as he had other fighters to train. As I slumped against the wall in the stairwell, I realized that it might have been for the best, really. Brandy is clearly not like other fighters, even other Geners. She was taller, stronger, excelled at things like I did. She was kind to a fault, sweet, fun. Her laugh was lyrical, she had an amazing physique. She was cute and funny. She-
"Don't go there," I said to myself. But as I said it, those words seemed hollow. I wanted to pull out my Shay, send her a scribe. But I fought the urge, choosing to throw myself into training once more. But every day I walked into the gym, my heart wasn't fully in it. For a full three weeks, I ran, lifted weights, worked on the bags, shadowboxed and more. But Brandy just became a bigger missing piece of the puzzle. She wasn't answering any messages, she never seemed to be online.
One night, as I stared at the phone, hoping she was going to reply, I realized it. I didn't just like Brandy. I LIKE liked her. Hell, it was beyond just liking her.
I think I love her, and I don't know how to deal with never seeing her again.
-
WOW! Nicely done. I hope we see Brandy again. She would be a lot of fun outside the ring. K+!
-
For the next five months, all I did was train. Before, I loved to party. I went out at least 3 nights a week and had a good time. It wasn't uncommon for me to get with at least one girl each time, so I'm no slouch when it comes to that department. But before I met Brandy, I don't think I could say I ever developed, ya know... FEELINGS for anyone. I don't know what it exactly was, but even after being put in the Med Facility, I still yearned for her. I just... Looking back on it, whenever I was around her, it felt right. Completely natural.
God, look at me. Talking like a lovesick kid! I would've tore myself a new one, just listening to the way I'm talking now. But it still hurt, being separated from her. She hadn't answered any of the Scribes I sent her, nor any of the calls. By month two, I stopped altogether. But that didn't mean I didn't keep tabs. I checked every feed I could, and... nothing. It was like she faded into another plane of reality entirely. In the era of Overlight portal tech, where anything or anyone can get to one side of the galaxy to the other in nan-seconds, it's not like she wasn't able to keep in tabs.
I had to accept the fact that she just disappeared.
Thus, all the training.
Almost six months to the day where Brandy stopped communicating with me, the sky was super dark as Coach practically ran up to me with an excited look in his eye.
"Marco," he said. "Yer not gonna BELIEVE it!"
"What is it?", I asked, my heart still not into it all.
"I got ya a fight, and yer not gonna guess against who?"
"I don't know," I said, closing my eyes and rubbing my forehead. "Xelly the Zeno?"
Coach shot me a weird look, not realizing it was a joke.
"The fuck you on, kid? Anyway, Farlan's team reached out, and they want to give YOU a title shot!"
I looked over at him, my eyes burrowing a new hole in his skull in disbelief.
"NO FUCKING WAY," I nearly shouted. "They want to give me a shot?!"
I practically screamed for joy as I hugged Coach, feeling a fire newly rekindled inside of me. Finally! FINALLY! Your boy Marco Mercado was gonna do good on his promise to his mom, getting his shot at the Galactic Middleweight Championship against Cyrus "Sirius" Farlan!
"The fight's in one month," Coach told me. "So we need to get serious about this! To help out, I got someone downstairs in the Dungeon that volunteered to help train you."
"I could kiss you right now," I told Coach, jokingly going in for the kiss.
"Hey," he shouted, pushing me away with a smile. "The only man who kisses me is my partner, got it?"
I gave the Coach a quick hug and rushed downstairs, a new spring in my step. Me! Getting a fucking TITLE SHOT! Could this day get any better?
As I stepped into the Dungeon, I could hear something in the deep gloom. The sound of impacts and effort, covered hands taking shots at inanimate things. The telltale sounds of padded leather on canvas, the rattle of chains and the creaking of metal as something heavy swung back and forth. An inanimate training body being pummeled, eternally ready for more punishment.
"I'm gonna turn the lights on," I shouted out, letting whoever was there know I had come in.
"Lights are out," shouted a man from somewhere in the darkness. As I heard him speak, I could swear I had heard this man's voice before. But I couldn't exactly remember where or when.
"Are you hear to help train me?", I asked, warily taking steps inside the scarily dark room.
"Yeah," the man said again. "We're at the heavy bags."
"We're at the heavy bags?", I asked myself. There was more than one person here in the Dungeon?
As I followed the sounds of someone's fists tenderizing the training equipment, the clouds began to part and light filtered through the rooms. And off in the corner, I could see two figures wearing hoodies and sweats. One was holding the heavy bag while the other worked their magic on it. As the storm broke and more light came in, I could see that these two figures were not regular people. If anything, these two were Geners.
"I think there must be a mistake," I said. "I'm... supposed to meet whoever's supposed to be training me?"
The one holding the bag chuckled as he let go.
"I'm training you, kid."
The figure turned, pulling down his hood.
"NO FUCKING WAY," I said.
There before my eyes was the man himself, "Blockbuster" Bustamante, one of the BIGGEST stars in the galaxy, both literally and figuratively.
"Yes fucking way," he said, smirking. "For the next month, we'll be training you."
"Wait," I said, holding my hands up. "Coach convinced you to train me?"
"Actually," Blockbuster said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. "SHE convinced me to train you."
My eyes lit up just as the clouds parted and filled the room as the other figure pulled down their hood as well.
"Hey, Marco."
I was on the verge of happy crying at the sight of Brandy as she stood next to her dad, towering over him with a kind smile on her face.
-
It's the greatest love story ever. :clap: :clap:
In all seriousness - the oblique world-building and actual character development wher ethe strength and size are just part of the story make this an excellent read and work of quality fiction.
Well done GLK. :bravo: :bravo:
-
I couldn't help myself, running forward to wrap my arms around her incredibly thick waist, barely able to touch her back as I felt her lean forward and hold me tight.
"Why didn't you answer any of my scribes?", I asked her, tears running down my face as I couldn't keep'em back anymore.
"She was... offworld," her dad rumbled. "After what happened, she-"
"Dad," she cut in. "I got this."
As I let go of Brandy, she kneeled down, getting eye to eye with me. Her curly auburn hair framing her cute face as she grew serious.
"As dad said, I was offworld. When I hurt you, it... it looped me. I was thinking about giving up entirely. But your last scribe, it just lit something in me."
I smiled as I thought about it. The very last scribe I sent her before she went dark for six months.
"You have something worth pursuing," I uttered.
"And I do," she continued. "So I asked dad to hook me up somewhere iso'd. Someplace where I could train every single day. Someplace where I could only improve, work past my blocks like you showed me."
As she stood, I noticed that she seemed... different. More confident, more natural. But against the light, I could see she also seemed... BIGGER. As her hands went to the zipper of hoodie, I saw how tight it was on her. Tighter than it had previously been. When she slipped it off, I was rendered completely speechless.
"If I'm gonna be The Sequel, then I gotta go bigger and bolder than before."
Her frame was absolutely MASSIVE. Whereas before she looked like she worked out, now she looked like she LIVED in the gym. Her build was mindblowing in size, easily bigger and more defined than her dad's in his best condition. She was jacked like a star tapper collecting the ambient energy and materials from nebulae, her body a machine built for strength and endurance. The cabling and networking of her striated mass coupled with the crisscross of hose sized veins feeding her body with heavily O2 saturated blood only gave more to the imagery of her being bigger and better than before. A veritable gentle goddess of mass and might with the power to seemingly crush armies with barely a sweat, looking down upon me with a placid, caring look on her face.
Yes, I got hard. Seal it, pervs.
"Holy..."
At my flustering attempts to speak, Brandy smiled at me once more.
"Marco," she said, keeling down once more. "Because of you, I'm going to pursue what I want."
"I'm... I'm proud of you," I told her. "You deserve to be in the spotlight in the ring, kiddo."
Her dad snort as he tried to hold in a laugh, but failed.
"Kiddo?", he asked, not believing I had just said that. Brandy shot him a look of disbelief.
"Did I say something wrong?", I asked.
"No," she said, sighing. "Dad uses words like 'kid' and 'kiddo' with me, too..."
"KIDDO?!", he said joyously before laughing. We both waited for him to calm down before she continued.
"As I was about to say," Brandy said, quickly shooting a look at her dad. "I'm not doing this for the attention or the fame."
With that, Brandy put both hands on my shoulders.
"Then what are you doing this for?", I asked her.
"Do you remember our promise? Before I accidentally put you in the Med Facility?"
"Yeah," I said, thinking back on it. "Winner's gotta do something the other... says..."
I realized what she was implying.
"Marco," Brandy said, shuffling closer to me on her knee. "I think we both agree I won that bet. And I just wanted to know if you... If you would..."
She awkwardly stammered, clearly having never done this before. So instead of letting her finished, I instead wrapped my arms around her neck, holding her close as she wrapped her arms around me.
"I've been waiting for you to ask me this for six months," I told her. "And the answer's yes, I would love to go on a date with you."
-
The next day, Brandy and her dad took me off world to train for the next month on an unmarked terraformed world that took four gate jumps to get to. As we were making our way into re-entry, Brandy's dad gently slapped my chest with the back of his hand.
"Just a fair bit of warning," he said, smiling. "This planet's gravity is a little more intense than what you're used to."
"You're gonna feel a bit sluggish," Brandy added. "But it's a very hospitable world. So give it a couple days, and your body should start building up a tolerance for it."
I looked out the window as we neared the atmosphere.
"I don't think that's gonna be a-"
As soon as we broke through into the planet's exosphere, I could immediately feel it in my chest as the planet's gravity started weighing me down. Looking up at the console above my head, I noticed that the Artificial Gravity regulator had been turned off, causing me to groan out a little bit. It was the first time in my life where my entire body felt constipated from how much pressure was holding on to me. Soon enough, we made landfall and we all unbuckled ourselves, although I started a little earlier and was still lagging behind. But Brandy and her dad? They looked absolutely unaffected, walking at a pace so that I didn't feel like I was being left in the dust by them.
"This... is... a LITTLE more intense?", I slurred somewhat, giving the two of them a look of disbelief as I was stooped over and tromped along like a fully grown toddler.
"Just shy of 1 g's difference," Brandy said, smiling. "It's where I've been training for the past 6 months!"
"Holy shit," I muttered, trying to pick up the pace. "Could we at least... get a lift or... something? I'm not... used to this... yet!"
"Already got one," Blockbuster told us, pointing to a nearby vehicle. "And don't worry, artificial gravity's inside all vehicles and buildings. So unless it's turned off, you won't have to deal with greater g's everywhere."
"THANK YOU," I said, practically willing to kiss Blockbuster for that bit of good news as I basically went as I fast I could to climb in the Excursion class vehicle that was here to pick us up.
As I struggled to climb inside the vehicle, I suddenly felt someone grabbing the back of my pants and gently lifting me the rest of the way up.
"Gotta hurry," Blockbuster told you. "Only got a month here, so we need to build you up with every second we've got."
As I scrambled into my seat, I felt the vehicle shifting as Brandy and her dad climbed in. Then, as she closed the door, I could feel the gravitation lessen as I was left tired and sweaty.
"Let's go," she said, shouting me a knowing smile. With that, we took off into the wilds, down dirt roads and up the hills through an incredibly lush forest filled with purple Xerathi Pines and Derazi hardwood groves. There were many animals I had never seen before, like something that was a mix between an elk and those little armored bugs that roll up into balls. And birds like this thing that was a mix between an Eltozo eagle, a Shuvana heron and an Earth Toad. And far more that I just don't have the words for. But I can certainly tell you it was awesome seeing so many different animals. Hell, it was awesome to just be in some fucking Wilderness! I've never been outside of a city before then, and it neutron'd my mind to see this shit for the first time! Just incredible!
Within an hour, we were pulling up to a giant facility surrounded by a great fence. Probably to keep the wildlife out. We're talking HUGE, huge. Like, the structure alone was a mile across! THAT huge! Even the GATE was huge, watching it swing open as we pulled in, heading directly into a massive nearby hangar as we parked. Stepping outside after the door was closed, I noticed the very clean garage was at regular gravity, as well.
"You weren't kidding about the gravity," I said, stretching a bit in the cool garage.
"If you think it's nice in here," Brandy said, opening a nearby door. "Wait till you see the rest of the place!"
As I hustled through, I marveled at just how MASSIVE the place really was. Screens upon screens, incredibly tall ceilings, a huge home hearth on one of the walls, a fully decked out vid room with almost EVERY film available, SEVEN spot gyms dedicated to different types of exercises with link washes, a kitchen with every bit of eat tech you'd need. This place had to have cost AT LEAST four trillion! And I had yet to get to the bedrooms!
"This place is fucking NEB!"
"It sure is," Blockbuster said, amused at my reaction. "Proper gym's offsite, so that means a bit of driving."
"And the bedroom's upstairs," Brandy added, pointing at a nearby lift.
"I gotta check out where I'm staying," I said, running inside it. As soon as I did, I noticed the console was... Well, it was built for a Gener. Big buttons, kind of high up. Though there were only four to press: Floors 1 through 3 and Basement.
"Which floor?", I asked.
"Second floor," Blockbuster said, smiling.
With the biggest grin I ever had on my face, I pressed the second floor button and went upstairs.
-
Great work.
-
As the doors of the elevator opened onto the second floor, my eyes couldn't help but take in everything. Everything was built for a Gener, perfectly built for their incredible height, broad shoulders and more. And here I was 5'10, narrower that a fucking pen by comparison, wandering around the place like I was a child who didn't know where the bathroom was. I was absolutely halluced while looking for my room, is what I was.
Coming across the first closed door, I waved at the sensor, trying to get it open as it blinked at me. I kept waving and moving my hand closer and closer, trying to trigger it until I was damn near rubbing the fucking thing. But it caught on that I was trying to gain entry and opened the door. Stepping inside, my jaw dropped as I got a look at The Man himself, Blockbuster Bustamante's room. His room was covered in trophies, mementoes, posters and more. And there, within reach of me, were his original gloves from his days as a fighter. I grabbed one of them, noting how light it seemed despite its size as I slipped my hand in. Almost immediately, my meat hook slipped in and disappeared into the cavernous space within. I was neutron'd by how much of a size difference there was between me and him, and my mind slipped to Brandy. I needed to see how much of a difference there was between us, as well.
Gently putting the glove back to where it was, I stepped back outside and closed the door, then I moved to the next logical door. Taking a deep breath, I swiped at the sensor like how I got into Blockbuster's room. I watched as the door opened, hope welling up in me... only to be met with a spare room that was completely empty. Nonplussed, I closed the door, and moved to the next door on that side of the hall. I swiped at the sensor and saw... an ordinary room. With a somewhat large bed meant for a normal person, and laying on top of it were my bags.
Fuck, I found my room by accident. Don't get me wrong. Beautiful view of the forest outside my window, nice bed, clean sheets, enough room so it felt like I was sleeping in a hall or something. But it wasn't Brandy's room, y'know? I was hoping to see how she lived.
As I walked to the door across the hall from mine, I was kind of vacc'd. Swiping at the sensor, I was starting to think that maybe she lived on the third floor, "up in the attic" and all that. Her dad giving her space to live how she wanted, letting her plaster her walls with posters of some innocuous pretty boy ba-
"HOLY SHIT," I muttered, looking in as the door revealed Brandy's room.
Did I say room? I meant gym.
Brandy's GYM.
All across the room were grav tech free weights, various bits of exercise equipment, Sevalite Metal heavy bags with nanite repair parameters and more. It was like Brandy's actually lived in a gym, the walls were plastered with printed posters, fighter pictures, diagrams on techniques and more. And off in the corner was a bed that seemed barely big enough for her to sleep on, and a dresser with a slew of pictures on it. As I carefully walked across the room, I realized they weren't any old pictures.
Except for a couple with her and her dad, or what I could only assume was her mom and a couple of her when she was younger, she had almost set a mini-shrine dedicated to me. My first fight, some promo pics I had took when I started getting attention, some popper pics from some scum feed that claimed I impregnated Tezzala Mendoza when we dated for a week that went nowhere before she admitted she was Non-Coit which had me in that really nice pair of streamers from that trip to the Vyadlen Coast on Polvarix-526.
Don't lie, you know the one. I looked GOOD in that pic.
Anyway, she had a slew of pics of me on her dresser. But I noticed that, next to one of me smiling, there was a pic of her looking shy. It had to be an earlier pic, because she had almost no muscles to speak off. I mean, she was obviously still tall, duh. But she looked... NORMAL. I took it off the dresser, looking at it in this ancient style wooden frame. Then, as now, she still looked cute. But there was a night and day difference between Brandy then and her now.
"You were really young," I said to myself. "Weren't you?"
"That was taken four years ago."
I saw Brandy's hand coast over my shoulder, pointing at herself.
"Four years ago?", I asked, looking up at her smiling wistfully and nodding.
"I was a bit of a late bloomer," she said, some sadness in her eyes. "I was still the daughter of Blockbuster Bustamante, but I clearly took after my mom. Then mom was involved in an accident."
"I'm... I'm sorry," I stammered, not knowing what to say.
"It's alright," she said, grabbing the picture and putting it back on the dresser. "When she died in a hull breach from a piece of meteorite piercing the vessel she was on, I felt a bit lost. Seeking a distraction, dad offered me a chance to join him in the gym. I stayed away from serious exercise most of my life, but joining him? It felt... right. It felt like I was MEANT to be strong."
I smiled and took her hand in a show of sympathy.
"And you were already really tall-"
"I wasn't," Brandy said, looking serious. "When I joined dad in the gym is when my Gener genes kicked in."
"How tall were you before then?", I asked.
"About 5'2," she replied, glancing down at herself with a look of remorse. "That's the lost photo where I was that height and build. It was taken a few weeks before mom died. Then I grew six feet and gained hundreds of pounds in the course of a year."
"Shit," I said, realizing how excruciating the pain of growing that much must have been. "That must have been harrowing."
"It was," she said, sitting down on her bed. "But in that time, I discovered an up and coming fighter who took on all comers. Lining up fights back to back for exhibitions, putting himself out there no matter what. Meanwhile, the entire time I grew, I was off world. Hiding away from everything as I kept getting taller and stronger. Doctors say I still am, which has dad a bit worried. But I saw that fighter and realized I couldn't hide from reality. So I took it head on. I learned how to fight. And when I reached my limit, my body stabilizing enough for me to not be an issue, dad arranged for me to train with the one person I most wanted to meet."
Brandy wrapped her arms around me, taking me in a tight but loving hug. I did the same, though my arms... were obviously not as long.
"Thank you, Marco. I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you."
"I'd say the training's good enough for now," I told her. "Also, I still owe you that date."
"I want to go on the date after your fight," she whispered in my ear. "For now, let's just spend this moment like this."
"Okay," I said, holding on to her.
Unnoticed by either of us, Brandy's dad was outside her door, looking in and smiling at his daughter. Proud that she had found someone who seemed to care for her as much as he did, pulling her out of her loneliness for the first time since her mother died.
-
For the next few days, training was absolute Hell. We started every day with a "light run" outside the complex, under near 2 g's of gravity pulling us down. Brandy, for her part, was a machine. She would go fast, go hard and never look back, speeding through the forest like it were a leisurely stroll.
Me? Yeah, no. I'm a Nat. How the hell do you think I fared in that sort of environment? I was lucky to get a mile on my second day! Thank God the air was hospitable, otherwise I would have been in some serious trouble! But watching Brandy zoom by again and again, running at full speed like it was nothing? I was so awed by how effortless it was for her, I'd have quit if I were a lesser man. So I kept at it, running as far as I could, taking a break then going some more. After about two hours of that, we were brought back inside, told to soak in a nano vat under the watchful eye of some private Med Techs, ate and then got ready for transport to the gym.
When I first laid eyes on it, I nearly shit my pants with how frightening it looked. It looked far more like a penal facility than an actual gym, frighteningly ancient inspired in its aesthetic. We're talking the kind of facility that looms large, looms frighteningly and looks completely unnatural. True Xeno overlord kind of aesthetic, "straddling 16 separate dimensions in one space", here. And the design extended inside, as well. There were some terrifying machines all over the place, glowing with uncharacteristic hues and humming with an intensity befitting places like that experimental dimensional bridging lab I visited when I was a kid, once. Multi-tonal and disjointed harmonics that just causes that one part of your brain that reacts to fearful stimuli to go haywire the longer you're near whatever's causing it to hum. Tech Assistants were running here and there, tinkering with every machine as we walked around.
"What are all these?", I asked Blockbuster, causing him to smile.
"Not for you," he said, putting his hand on his daughter's shoulder. "These are for Brandy, because normal weights aren't necessarily working for her anymore. You'll be doing this the old fashioned way."
And when we got to training, he wasn't fucking kidding. As he guided me through every exercise, Brandy was given to the Tech Assistants for her training. Almost every machine she stepped up to, she was bathed in a weird light as she went rep for rep with me at each station. But just like me, she seemed to struggle a bit with each bit of exercise. Every weight a bit more than I was used to, Blockbuster took great delight in pushing me to my max. And he was not an easy Coach by any margin.
"Get that weight all the fucking way up," he screamed at me. "You call yourself a fighter when you can't beat your best?!"
It was the fifth day of training and I was feeling it. My body was like gelled cream, my bones felt like crisp bix and all of that was on fire in another grueling workout.
"I'm... TRYING," I growled, lifting the 275 lbs. bar. "I normally do... LOW REPS!"
As I threw the bar up for the last of a 10 set of 15's, Blockbuster helped guide it back on the rack and smiled at me as I huffed and practically melted over the station.
"Great job," he cheered. "Now get up, it's time to go."
I rolled onto my knees as I groaned, picking myself up with some effort as I looked around the room. That's when I noticed Brandy wasn't there.
"Where's... Brandy?", I stammered, stumbling slightly as I toweled off.
"Med Techs wanted to see her," her dad said, running a Sani-Flash over the bench. "Said they needed to go over some results with her. Now, hit the showers."
I just muttered an "Okay" as I wandered into the locker room, quickly stripping off my clothes before I noticed that they were being used. Grabbing some cleanse gear, I shuffled into the open space.
"I don't know what you're doing, but-"
I stopped cold as I saw Brandy standing underneath one of the taller showerhead, naked to the world as the shower poured its hardest setting down over her. My eyes practically devoured her form as the water cascaded across her body like a waterfall. The way her muscles seemed to defy her flesh, contouring every ounce of her magnificent physique as an open dare for her skin to listen to the whims of her prodigious mass. The broadness of her shoulders that created a mighty cliffside for the steaming stream to mist in the open air. The way her massive hands pressed against the wall, and then move to her... face as she...
That's when I noticed that Brandy was crying.
"Is everything okay?", I asked over the pounding hiss of the showerhead. Causing Brandy to jump slightly as she came out of some thoughts that were deeply troubling her.
"Y-yeah," she said, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm... I'm okay."
"What's wrong?", I asked her as I approached.
"Nothing," she said, trying to put on a brave face.
"You don't have to hide anything from me," I told her. "Please?"
Her head dipped as she closed her eyes.
"Shower: off."
The shower immediately ceased flowing, allowing me an unimpeded view of her body as she turned towards me. I tried to keep a straight face, but my face began to turn red as Brandy turned to look directly at me.
"I just finished with the tests for the Med Techs," she said. "Specifically, the Gen Specialists."
I could tell this was heading somewhere, but I didn't know where. All I knew was that it was upsetting her badly.
"And what did they tell you?"
Brandy plopped down on her ass as her face screwed up into one that bordered on anguish and confusion. It was the same look I gave when I learned my dad sacrificed his life sealing the engine of the Calico before the Gamma Pulse drive leak could vent out into the rest of the ship when I was 9 years old. I decided it was best I was sitting down too, to make it less awkward.
"They... found an anomaly," she said, shaking. "My body's... not done."
"Not done?", I asked, before quickly realizing what she meant. My eyes went wide as we looked at each other.
"They promised that I was stable enough, but I grew another 3 inches since we arrived..."
With that acknowledgement, she began to tremble. The shock settling in as another cruel twist of fate was laid at her feet. I scrambled on my hands and knees across the wet floor as she slowly rocked back and forth. Her hands resting on her knees as they shook uncontrollably as she fought a losing battle to hold back her tears. Knowing I had to do something, I wrapped both of my hands with her right, rubbing it as I just sat there with her.
"I don't wanna grow any more, Marco. I'm not... I'm not gonna be HUMAN anymore if I do!"
"It's gonna be alright," I told her, doing my best to sound as soothing as possible. "Just listen to me, okay? You're gonna be alright."
Suddenly, we heard the locker room doors slam open.
"Brandy," Blockbuster called out, panic in his voice as he rushed in. "I just talked with the Med Techs! Did they really say-"
He found us sitting next to each other in the shower, Brandy still in deep grief as I held her hand, trying to figure out how best to help her process all this.
-
It seems Brandy isn't done growing yet. But I'm sure everything will be okay. Another fantastic part. Well done.
-
It seems Brandy isn't done growing yet. But I'm sure everything will be okay. Another fantastic part. Well done.
It's a little more than that, actually...
-
It seems Brandy isn't done growing yet. But I'm sure everything will be okay. Another fantastic part. Well done.
It's a little more than that, actually...
Well.. that's ominous yet intriguing.....
In all seriousness - this is exceptional work GLK. It's a story. It's world-building I(hallmark of great Sci-Fi) and the fact that it includes FMG, etc. is just bonus because the quality of teh work transcends most of what we se ein this forum. :bravo:
-
Jc nailed it. This is really fantastic work. Top notch world building and consistency. I can't wait to see what you have planned next!
-
Great to see more, and glad to see more coming in. Keep up the nice work.
-
What a great story. Want more to "see" of the Blockbuster.
-
What a great story. Want more to "see" of the Blockbuster.
That is a very interesting thing to say, because I've actually been wanting to commission art of Brandy lately. Only problem is that I'm absolutely flat broke, as I'm commissioning art each month from a novel I'm writing.
-
After about thirty minutes to get her to calm down, we drove back to the complex where Brandy was sedated after another bout of emotional wear and guided to bed. For the next two hours, I soaked, showered and thought about what the Hell Brandy was talking about. Specifically about her being "stable enough" and how if she kept growing, she "wouldn't be human anymore". There was just something about those phrases that kept playing over and over in my head that sounded... well, OFF. So I went looking for answers from her dad.
Imagine my surprise when I found him waiting for me in the dining room with two glasses of Saladin Whiskey.
"Marco," he said, sounding as serious as he could be as he put a glass in my direction. "I think it's time we talked."
"I think we do," I told him, quickly taking a seat across the table. "I know I'm effectively an outsider, but I need to know the truth, Braden."
I watched as he took a swig of his glass, not able to read his emotions.
"I know you like my daughter," he hissed through his teeth as the alcohol burned its way down. "And she likes you. That's why I'm letting you know what will happen if you choose to be with her."
"What kind of apogee is that?", I asked, drinking my whiskey and immediately regretting sipping on one of the most potent top shelf drinks on the market.
"It's actually a lot more closer to the discussion than you think," he said, leaning over to stare me in the eye. "What do you know about Geners?"
I leaned back, trying to remember what we were taught.
"Well, Geners are modified humans. They came about around 120 years ago as a form of controlled evolution. While they're taller and stronger than everyone, they're... Wait, Geners are sterile..."
Blockbuster chuckled when he watched me starting to put the pieces together.
"That's right," he said, looking down at his drink with a smile. "The old 'Geners are supposed to be sterile' factoid. And yet, I have a daughter who looks like me and is built like me. Does that make me sterile?"
I immediately realized shit wasn't what I was told my whole life at that revelation.
"So all this time," I said, putting my hands in my hair. "THIS WHOLE TIME, Geners could have kids?"
Blockbuster only nodded before finishing his glass.
"Then why did they HIDE that fact?"
As I took another sip, the massive superstar reached over and grabbed the whiskey bottle once more to pour himself a drink. As he uncorked it, I saw how huge his body always seemed to be. I never saw him working out, but he looked like an off-season Body Sculptor. An older, off-season version of his days as a Bodybuilding and Prizefighting Champion. His hair a bit more grey, his face with some lines. But he still had the confidence he did then, and the natural ease in his own body like I saw in Brandy up until today.
"Because of how we were made," he told me, suddenly looking grim. "We're not entirely human, kid. Our genetics were altered before birth, making us ninety percent human... and ten percent NOT."
"What do you mean, 'NOT' human?"
"The experiments started one hundred and seventy years ago," he said, looking out the nearby window. "That was when they found this... thing on the outer borders. It LOOKED human, sure. But only in some features like face, hands and so on. The rest of it was a giant, hulking being that seemed like it was etched entirely out of stone."
"So you're saying a STATUE inspired how Geners look?", I asked, not believing what he was saying.
"Let me finish," he said, taking another swig from his glass. "I said it SEEMED like it was etched entirely out of stone. When they did some tests, they found the thing was over forty million years old and NOT STONE. At least, not entirely. In fact, it had a similar genetic sequence like humans do, but with an incredibly dense carbon carapace. Its skin was LIKE stone, despite being very human-like in design. Same for its bones. So Tekalmor Industries got to work."
When I heard that company's name, I suddenly knew where he was going.
"Tekalmor," I quietly said. "The home of Geners."
"Yep," Blockbuster said, looking back at me. "The people who INTRODUCED Geners to the world as a cheap form of labor that was secretly made from the genes of an alien race. Able to lift more, survive more inhospitable worlds, take more damage, work longer. 'Geners! The next Generation of Workers!'"
I leaned back, sipping my whiskey a bit more and appreciating the burn.
"And when the work dried up, they found a new life for Geners in the realm of sports."
Blockbuster nodded at my words.
"Exactly. But a few years after Geners were introduced, Tekalmor noticed something. Those Geners who found a partner, got married and have a family? Their kids had some of that Gener genes in them. And as it is with genetics, some of their kids started taking after their daddies. So they started getting big and tall. And then some of them didn't stop."
"Hold the fuck up," I said, sitting upright. "What do you mean by 'didn't stop'?"
"Just that," Blockbuster said with a sigh. "Some Gener kids had a greater propensity for the Being's genetics than their fathers. Either mid-or-shortly post Puberty, their genetics would take over and they'd start growing like fucking weeds. And in a very slight number, it wasn't just growing taller or more muscular and durable. Some of them..."
"Some of them what?", I asked, leaning forward as Blockbuster became more apprehensive.
"Some of them actually started BECOMING like the Being. Almost always around the thirteen foot mark. Their bodies started hardening with a dark bluish-gray tinge, they got taller and stronger. Some started to show symptoms like slower response times or reduced sense of touch."
My mouth dropped as he talked. They would start BECOMING like the stone being?
"And that's why," he continued, pouring himself another glass. "Geners are promoted as being sterile. Because some of our kids might be genetically predisposed to revealing their terrible secret."
I had no idea what to say about that. So I just drank alongside Blockbuster in silence for the next hour, contemplating on this nightmare that Brandy was potentially facing.
-
I spent that time well thinking about a bunch of things. About what I would say, about what I would do. But in the end, I was in love with Brandy, despite not really knowing about her. But what Blockbuster told me neutron'd me down to my core. Geners weren't entirely human, and Brandy was facing a frightening reality of slowly losing her humanity the bigger and stronger she got. I knew this had to be an absolute nightmare for her. And as her coach, as her partner in training, as her friend, as... as the man who was in love with her, I had to do something.
"I'm gonna go talk to her," I slightly slurred.
"Before you go," Blockbuster said. "Take these with you."
He reached into his shorts pocket, tossing a little packet on the table.
"What're these?", I asked, holding them up.
"Designer hangover meds," he said with a smile. "They're made for a guy like me, but safe for a Nat to take. Take'em with a glass of water before you crash, okay?"
"Okay," I said, putting them in my pocket before I half-stumbled towards the elevator. When I stepped in, I took a couple breaths, mentally telling myself to focus as I went upstairs. As soon as the doors opened, I began schlepping my way down the hall towards her room. I knocked gently a couple times, waiting for her response. When she didn't answer, I knew she was in a bad spot.
"Brandy," I called out. "It's Marco. May I come in?"
I heard her shuffling on the bed before she groaned.
"It's okay," she said. "Come on."
Waving at the sensor, the door opened to her darkened room, only illuminated by the lights from the hallway as she had her windows shuttered. In bed, she was sitting under her covers, her relatively small breasts hanging off of her chest as they supported the looks of her shelf like pecs. Her dusky torso and arms on full display against the dark blue bedding and greyish-blue walls. Her cute face was a mask of fear, strain and exhaustion all in one, as her big brown eyes seemed to want to cry more tears of frustration and terror. Her long, dark slightly curly hair draping across her shoulders, chest and stomach like some sort of dark veil.
"Are you feeling better?", I asked, stepping into the gloom of her room.
"Yeah," she weakly replied, letting me know she was still very troubled by the test results. "I take it my dad told you what the deal is?"
"Yeah. He told me-"
That was when my foot connected with one of Brandy's Grav Bars that was accidentally left on. It may have been just the size of a normal weightlifting bar. But it was still set so that whatever touched it would be pitched down. And lucky me, I just drunkenly stubbed my toe hard on it, tilting me forward and sending me directly onto the floor with a thump.
"Marco," Brandy shouted, shocked that I might have just lost another title fight, this time due to my own stupidity. But once she saw that I was okay, shock soon gave way to laughter as I lazily pushed myself back onto my feet, wobbling back and forth like an old Wobble Wally toy.
"I'm okay," I quickly told her, hands up as if I was proving I was unarmed and unharmed. "Just a little fall! 'S alright!"
As Brandy's laughter died down, she pat on the bed beside her.
"Sit down before you hurt yourself badly," she said, sighing with a smile. Not one to argue at the moment, I did as she asked, making sure I wasn't going to stumble across any other stubbing pitfalls for my poor drunk lower digits.
"As I was saying," I told her with a smirk. "Your dad told me everything."
"Like how we barely count as humans," she asked with a depressed huff. "Or that I might lose my humanity entirely as I grow more?"
"I don't know anything about that "losing humanity" nonsense," I told her, digging out the hangover pills Blockbuster gave me. "Or that whole "barely counting" shit. All I see is someone I like being on the edge of tears, and I have to do something about it."
As I looked at her, she had a warm smile on her face again. Looking at me with an appreciation I don't think she has gotten in several years.
"You're sweet, Marco. But that doesn't change the fact that... I might become some... Some THING, in time. How will people react when they see me going some-"
I raised my hand in an effort to get her to shush.
"That's too many steps," I told her. "When you're in the ring, what are you supposed to do?"
"Don't get caught up in the strategy," she said, bringing her prodigious legs towards her chest, slightly balling herself up. "If you focus too much on what you will do, you lose sight of what you... will face..."
The realization of what she was saying to me caused her exhausted eyes to brighten.
"Exactly," I said. "You have a fight ahead of you, no matter what. But the hypotheticals will almost always distract you. Focus on the fight in front of you, one step at a time. One day at a time. You're not alone in this."
Her eyes began to glisten as she rubbed the teardrops from her eyes.
"Thank you," she said, her voice slightly quivering as she relaxed. "I'll have to keep that in mind, Marco."
I pat her on the leg, noting just how solid her massive thighs were.
"No problem," I told her, slowly getting up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get a glass of wat- ERK!"
Before I could react, Brandy had wrapped her massive arms around me, holding me to her bare chest in a tight embrace. I'll be completely honest, I got hard almost instantly as she seemed to be holding on to me for dear life.
"Don't go," she whispered. "At least, not yet?"
I awkwardly lifted up the baggie in my hand, slightly shaking it.
"Urm... yer dad ga' me dese hngova plls?"
Without letting me go with her left arm like a child holding a cat, she reached over with her right to grab a still half full barrel sized water bottle. Flicking up the spout with her thumb, she put it in front of me.
"I got you covered," she said, happily. Realizing I couldn't put up a fight, I put the pills in my mouth and took a couple gulps of water before she put the water bottle back.
"Thnk you."
With that out of the way, she laid back down on her bed, holding me like a teddy bear as I involuntarily joined her. Soon, I could hear her breathing heavily as sleep overtook her.
"Thank you," she whispered, kissing the top of my head as she fell asleep. And I joined her shortly after, holding on to her arms to reassure her that I wasn't going anywhere.
-
Another great addition to this fantastic story.
-
For the next couple of days, Blockbuster decided that Brandy should take some days off so the Med Techs could do further testing while I finished up my initial week of training. It was all well and good, but I couldn't help but worry about her. The first day was rough, considering we saw neither hide nor hair from Brandy for twenty four hours. And when we left the next day for the gym, it seemed like a repeat of the day before. So we left, not expecting anything to happen.
We were two hours into training when Braden received the call from the facility.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'SHE'S GONE'?", he screamed at them over vid.
"We can't find her anywhere on the premises," the Med Tech replied. "She opened the gates and walked right off into the woods. We have eyes looking for her, but it's like she's outpaced them, sir. This gravity's making it difficult to keep them in the air for long."
"We're coming back," he said, turning off the screen and looking back at me. "Rack up and grab your gear. We're going back."
I looked at him, standing up and wiping myself down.
"Is there anywhere she might have-"
"GET YOUR SHIT AND LET'S GO," he screamed at me, like a dog biting into an unwanted pest. I physically jumped as he menaced me, booking it at full speed and climbing into the transport. Even with Gravity modulators, imagine driving at high speeds in greater gravity through an alien environment that you're still unfamiliar with. You're put in a surreal space that leaves you disoriented both physically AND mentally. It's also when I realized that we weren't as far from the facility as I thought, considering it only took us 15 minutes to get there. Seems we took an hour in order to avoid Gravity Sickness, which I was starting to go through when we stopped.
But the whole ride back, Blockbuster was clearly in full parent mode. His face was screwed up into apprehension and panic as his only child had left for some unknown reason. No telling anyone, no Scribe telling us where she went. Just one minute she's there, then the next, she's gone. It was strange seeing him react like this, given that he was always seen an untouchable in whatever spotlight he was in. As soon as we pulled into the facility, he flew into action as the Med Techs scrambled.
"Get every eye we have up in the sky," he shouted, pointing at random engineers. "Prep some skiffs with Gravity engines so we can get people on the ground out there! Tell Chalansky Brandy's gone off-grid! And if he hasn't been told she's destabilized, then FUCKING TELL HIM!"
As the employees scrambled about, I cautiously approached Blockbuster.
"Who's Chalansky?", I asked, causing him to focus on me with an intensity I only ever found in a fight.
"He's Tekalmor's C.O.O.," Braden said, scratching the side of his head nervously. "He's in charge of oversight for all current Geners, and the reason we're out here."
"And he's got a special interest in Brandy," I added, quickly figuring out why Brandy might be of note given her father and genetics.
"And her body's destabilized," he continued. "So it's at a risk of fluxing even more. Under this gravity, it's like she's working out every minute. And when a Gener is still in a state of growth, our bodies can overreact to training if we're not careful."
I felt my gut drop at those words. I knew I had to find her before things got serious.
"I'm taking one of the skiffs," I told him, marching over to a nearby set-up for gear.
"I know you're sensitive to Gravity sickness," he shouted. "I want you to stay here."
"You need me out there," I told him as I began to put pads on. "I love Brandy, and she'll listen to me."
"You loving her is no reason to-"
"Also, I'm licensed for piloting. So stop dusting me and let me look for her."
Blockbuster was speechless as I grabbed a helmet and quickly ran over to an available skiff. As soon as I approached, an engineer gave me a thumbs up before I hopped on.
"Gravity stabilizer field generator is online," she told me. "Ready for patrol."
"Roger that," I told her, putting the visor of my helmet down as the automated sensors took over and locking it into place. The system hub came to life as it began booting up to the network, running diagnostics and giving me the okay. I turned the engines on, letting the speeder roar to life as I grasped the steer rig.
"Gravity settings?", the engineer asked me.
"1.2 Terrans to help stabilize and reduce bounce," I said, watching as a light green field quickly crawled across both me and the entire ride like a second skin, creating a shield with which to aid against impediment from the planet's natural forces.
"Patrol ready for excursion. Opening doors."
Suddenly, a thought came to mind.
"Engineer, program thermal scanning so I can pinpoint large heat signatures."
"I'm... I'm sorry?", she asked me.
"Heat signatures," I reiterated. "She's a Gener. She's going to be putting out a lot of heat under this pull, especially while working out!"
The engineer went quiet, looking at me rather sheepishly.
"What's wrong," I asked. "This set-up's made for thermal, right? This is search and rescue tech! Surely that was one of the first scans you did with the eyes, right?"
The engineer said nothing, her skin turning redder as she blushed.
"You gotta be fucking KIDDING ME," Blockbuster screamed. "You didn't think to use fucking THERMAL?! The search would have been over almost IMMEDIATELY given it's stormy!"
The Engineering pool didn't know what to say, being scolded by an angry father who just wanted his daughter home safe and sound, let alone said father being one of the biggest celebrities in the galaxy. I quickly knew that if I didn't do something, he would go into full diva mode and tear their morale to shreds.
"PROGRAM THERMALS," I shouted, cutting him off and getting the engineer's attention. "And give me a weather data!"
"R-right," the engineer said, working on her slate to upload the subroutine and info. "Thermal program set, vocal commands on. And weather reports... are... accurate."
"Good. Now, open doors."
The doors to the garage slowly lifted, revealing that the storm had just broken. I took some deep breaths, trying to get myself to calm down. When I felt ready, I gave them all a thumbs up.
"I'll bring Brandy home," I told Blockbuster. "So don't worry, sir."
I revved the engines and released the anchoring system, riding out of the garage with the other members of the patrol as we raced out of the gates to find Bustamante's little girl and bring her back to safety.
-
Just a little update.
The next installment will be in a few days. We're facing stupidly high temps this weekend, and I don't do well in the heat. So between that, the comics I started writing, my WIP Novel and this, Brandy and Marco's tale will be a little bit sporadic over the coming week or two.
-
Take your time. No rush, life happens.
-
The rain came down on us in sheets as we tore up the dirt roads, following the trails Brandy and I had been running for the last week. Thankfully, they were never too rough for the skiffs to follow. But soon enough, we came to a spot that opened up into many more ways to go. We came to a stop as the sky grew darker and more turbulent, lightning flashing through the clouds as they threatened to unleash Hell upon us.
"Which way could she have gone?", one of the riders to my left asked.
"There aren't enough riders for these trails," the man next to her said. "We're gonna have to solo."
"I got Northeast," I told them. "Pick a path, keep your Comms open at all times, switch to Thermals when needed."
"And whatever you do," one of the riders to my right said. "Don't get elevation. The field's are ionized, so they'll attract strikes above a certain level."
All the riders agreed, splitting up to travel down the various paths that wormed their way through the heart of the forest. I went Northeast, which I quickly realized was a bad move as I started going uphill, inching closer and closer to the ionic threshold for the generator. I must have gone about ten or twenty miles by the time I reached the crest of the hill, where the trees boke the line and led to a little cliff overseeing a good portion of the nearby woodlands. I couldn't help but be awestruck by the kaleidoscope of colors that absolutely covered the forest. Pinks and purples and blues and greens and reds, all vibrant against the scary storm that dominated the sky above us. I watched as the trees swayed in frighteningly graceful submission to the heavy winds, swinging back and forth as they jittered and shook with how powerful the gales blew.
Heh, I just realized I can get quite poetic when I want, I guess.
Anyway, point being that we're stuck out in the middle of this forest on this fucking planet that was twice Earth's gravity, looking for the girl I had feelings for that had run away to God knows where. As I was about to ask for a status report, I noticed a giant pink tree suddenly tilting to one side, falling over with a thunderous splinter as it toppled into the spectrum sea of leaves. Colliding with the ground in a ruinous collapse.
As I reached for the Comms on my console, I noticed something odd: a nearby tree to the one that fell began to shake violently, then still. Then it would jostle, then still. Over and over, I watched this happen for about a minute. And then as the rain began to fall, I noticed something else: the winds had died down. Meaning there was something else that was assailing it. Marking it down on my guide, I made my way back downhill, speeding around the base and heading to my mark at a fair pace. I turned thermals on, just in case.
As I drew near, I saw this little blip appearing on the periphery. I couldn't quite tell what it was, but it was big and putting out a pretty sizable heat signature. In all honestly, I was hoping to find Brandy.
But what I wasn't hoping to find was a freaking furry missile ramming into the side of the skiff in perfect timing. A ferocious hunger I had never heard before in a multi-tonal roaring in my ear as I was thrown from my ride to the ground below as the gravity generator was knocked loose and the entire rig shot directly into a tree and practically exploding on impact. As I scrambled to my feet, I took off my wrecked helmet and looked at my assailant. And instantly, I knew I was fucked.
Galger Beasts are horrifying motherfuckers, without a doubt. With a four split muzzle, sandy fur and massive claws that could also inject you with a paralytic, these murder machines made many other animals pale in comparison. Massive thick skulls, thick pelts and incredibly dense bone structures meant these things could give as well as they could take. And this fully grown eighteen foot long son of a bitch would easily give with the best of them.
I'm not military. I'm not trained in how to survive in the fucking wild. I'm just a guy who lived his whole life in the city. So I did the only thing I could at a time like this. Slowly back up, hoping the thing would lose interest in me. But as soon as I felt my back bumping against a tree, I doubly knew I was fucked. I glanced over at the gear on my skiff, seeing the container itself was damaged beyond approach as it was on fire, and knew that I was truly, utterly fucked.
So I gathered my courage as the Galger male roared at me once more. Scared shitless, all I could do was roar back at it.
"COME ON," I screamed. "IF THIS IS HOW I GO, THEN BRING IT, YOU HAIRY FUCKER! DO IT!"
The Galger roared once more, charging at me at full speed. I cocked my fist back, prepared to go down swinging like a fighter if I had to. But the second it leaped at me, I knew I was dead meat.
Or I would have been, had a giant figure not broken through the tree line, spearing the beast at full speed and throwing it into a nearby tree. It took me a minute to realize what had happened as the giant beast clambered to its feet, snarling before rearing back and roaring at whatever stood between it and its prey. I broke out in joy as I saw who saved me.
"DON'T YOU LAY A FUCKING CLAW ON MY MARCO, YOU BASTARD!!!"
Brandy had come to my rescue!
-
I had no time to call out to Brandy as the Galger Beast charged at her, roaring with a fury only the angriest predators could make. The rain cascaded down upon us, hitting us with enough force to act as a watery curtain that outlined the two of them in combat. The beast leapt like a missile at her, too fast for her to grab, but slow enough for her to raise her arms in front of her as the Galger's four-split jaws clamped down on her forearm, causing her to scream. With incredible focus, she grabbed the underside of the creature with her free hand, and with a grace unbecoming of her size, she pivoted on one foot, guiding the beast into the ground head first with a mighty slam. Two titanic beings falling to the firmament like celestial bodies cutting through the air before making landfall and shooting dirt and mud into the sky with their impact.
"Brandy!", I screamed, running forward until I saw her hand raised up for me to stop.
"Stay back," she screamed at me, the beast beneath her still locked onto her arm as it jerked its head from side to side. "Just stay-"
A powerful swing of the Galger Beast's arm made contact with Brandy's face and chest as its claws slid down her body, causing her to scream in pain as her clothes and flesh were ripped open. Kicking her feet out to use the momentum to gain leverage, her face was a mask of pure rage as she howled an almost inhuman scream as she grappled the beast again, proceeding to run full force at the tree line. Almost as if it recognized what she was trying to do, the beast's jaws let go of her arm, only freeing it enough for her to grab it by the throat as well as she sprinted towards the gigantic trees in her sight. Then, with a great jump, she slammed the two of them directly into one of the prodigious purple conifers, creating an overwhelming crack as their combined mass and speed struck the tree with enough force to shatter its trunk. As the pair rebounded off of it, the tree began to topple, twisting as it fell into the forest and rain with a crash and a shock as lightning flashed across the sky and the thunder echoes its collapse.
For a few seconds, neither of them moved. Perfectly outlined in the storm as the rain soaked them to the bone and ran off them like a watery field of energy. Both just panting as they lay still. Then, with effort, Brandy slowly moved her arms before pushing herself up with a powerful groan. And finding her footing, she stumbled upright as the lightning flashed once more, highlighting her open wounds that glinted in the light.
"Brandy," I cried out, looking at her wounds. "Are you alright? Why did you run off like-"
Her arms wrapped around me once more, holding me tight to her chest as she shuddered.
"Sorry," she stammered, nearly on the verge of tears. "So... S-so SORRY!"
As I just held her, the lightning flashed once more. And I saw up close just what was happening to her. For though her skin may yet be pliable, I saw the crystalline strands of flesh and sinew inside her body. Still looking very much like regular muscle, but much denser and more mineral like material that did not bleed. It's at that point I truly understood what they meant by "stabilized": past a certain point in growth, a Second Gener's very tissue converts to a more mineral like substance to support their growth. Over time, the process can be very painful, almost unbearable.
"It's okay," I told her. "All that matters is you're okay. Now let's get you back home so-"
I felt her weight shift, falling forward into my arms a bit more as she fell to her knees.
"FUCK," I shouted, trying to hold her upright as the realization that the neurotoxin in the beast's claws must be affecting her sank in.
"M-Marco?", she said, sounding tired. "I don't think-"
"It's okay," I told her. "I got you!"
I looked around, wondering if it was possible for anyone to hear me. Then I saw my discarded helmet, and noticed that the visor was still flickering. The thing still had power!
"I'll be right back!"
I let her go, running over and picking it up. Reaching in, I pulled out the receiver and earpiece, praying to whatever's out there that I had enough of a chance to reach out to the team.
"Mercury to Search Team! Can you hear me? Over!"
No response.
"Mercury to Search Team! CAN YOU HEAR ME? OVER!"
Once more, no response.
"MERCURY TO SEARCH TEAM! PLEASE RESPOND!"
My heart sank. No one was responding. The damn thing was-
"Serengeti to Mercury! Did you find Bustamante's daughter? Over!"
I danced and screamed in joy. The comms were still working! We were going to be okay!
"I found Brandy," I told them. "But we've got an issue: the skiff is scrap and Brandy was hurt in a-"
I felt its presence behind me before I even heard it growling. I slowly turned around, staring up at the beast's matted, sandy blonde fur as it glared down at me. It's four-section jaws twitching and flexing as it looked down at me with pure fury and hunger.
"...G-Galger Beast attack!"
As soon as the words left my lips, the thing reared back its paw and roared. Fully expecting to be struck down, I guarded myself up as I screamed but somehow kept my eyes open as it swung at me.
Now, they say that when you're certainly going to die, your whole life flashes before your eyes. Sad to say, but that's not what happened with me. Instead, there was only one thing that flashed through mine: Brandy. The life we could have lived, the time we could have spent together. All the regret of what could have been. I felt regret for what might have been.
That's when I noticed the Galger Beast's arm had stopped. And there was only one reason why: Brandy, wobbling right next to it as she held on tight.
"I SAID DON'T LAY A FUCKING CLAW ON MY MARCO!!!"
Shifting her feet, I watched as she out the thing's arm over her shoulder, bent over and sent the thing airborne with a sickening wet CRACK as the creature's arm snapped in half. It screamed out in pain before slamming into the ground once more, dazed as Brandy kicked the thing onto its back and straddled it.
"HE'S MINE!"
She struck the beast square in its maw, causing its head to violently jerk to the side.
"YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"
Another blow, sending some of its teeth flying to the side. Each swing of her powerful fists gaining more speed and force as the rain began to let up.
"HE'S NOT YOUR PREY!"
Another blow, causing its muzzle to cave in slightly.
"HE'S MY BOYFRIEND!"
Another blow, this time with more force to the side of the Galger Beast's forehead, causing it to dent inward.
"AND I'LL NEVER LET ANYTHING HURT HIM EVER AGAIN!!!"
Another blow, causing a wet crunch to echo through the lessening rainfall.
"NEVER!!!"
A splatter of blood landed on Brandy's face and chest as the beast's face and head was beaten in.
"NEVER!!!"
Her punches became a flurry as she proceeded to truly pick up speed, launching a volley of strikes at the helpless creature's head as she unleashed a purely primal scream of frustration and fear for the next minute. And as the rain finally stopped, so too did Brandy's blows. Until finally, the clouds parted as she fell to her side, staring up at the sky covered in the blood and viscera of her slain opponent. Laying next to the completely mangled beast she had just obliterated with her bare hands as she cried. I scrambled over, holding her as the Search And Rescue team soon found us in the carnage.
-
Interesting climax, let's how how things continue. Keep up the good work.
-
So, a brief update: made an account on the site what art's for deviants about 10 years ago, and I'll be adding my more adult oriented stuff over there. No story updates this weekend, as I've got to knuckle down and write a Goosebumps-esque short story for my Pay-tree-on, followed by a short Weird Western comic script.
Expect the next BLOCKBUSTER update on the GLKing account over on DA, as well as a continuation to my Wicked + Divine meets Scott Pilgrim influenced story, GETTING WITH THE GODDESSES. Hell, maybe a couple others, too.
And I really should create an account for my more Mainstream fare, as well. Gotta think it over...
-
As soon as they found us, the Search And Rescue team immediately went to work checking on Brandy.
"We've got significant lacerations to Ms. Bustamante's face and chest," one of the men said. "And we've confirmed her body has destabilized more."
"More?", I asked. "What do you mean MORE?"
"Mr. Mercado," one of the women on the team said, putting her hand on my shoulder. "Please try to remain calm-"
I couldn't help myself as I pushed her away from me. No matter what, I wasn't letting go of Brandy. She had just saved my life! And now she was in life threatening danger!
"Remain CALM," I screamed. "HOW CAN I REMAIN CALM? WE WERE JUST ATTACKED! AND NOW YOU'RE SAYING SHE'S DESTABILIZING MORE?!"
"Please," another member of the team said. "You have to remain calm for Ms. Bustamante!"
"Do you not SEE the beast laying right there?", I replied, pointing at the pulverized meat that was the Galger Beast.
"We need you to remain calm because Brandy is suffering Neurotoxin poisoning," the woman who tried to get me to calm down said. "You flying off into panic will only DELAY us being able to save her!"
As I sat there, cradling Brandy's head, I knew they were right. They were absolutely right. I had never been into any form of wilderness before, had never come across anything like a Galger Beast in real life and never been in serious peril like this before. But now, here I was, freaking out over Brandy being hurt so badly for my sake, I was only getting in the way with my antics. So as I held onto her, I closed my eyes and began to take deep breaths to get my nerves to settle down.
"This is really bad," one of the men said. "I can't intubate due to the destabilization. We're gonna have to move her immediately. Did someone call in an evac?"
"Already on the way," another member told him. "ETA 2 minutes."
"Tell them to hurry," I said.
"That's as fast as they can go," the man taking charge said. "We've never had to deal with a Gener being exposed to Galger toxin before, let alone a Second Gener. This is all new territory for everyone."
Suddenly, one of the Rescue team noticed something.
"She's not bleeding," she said. "Why isn't she bleeding?"
"There's no way she should have exclusively internal bleeding," another Rescue member said from the still burning wreckage of my skiff. "She's split open!"
The one taking charge dove his fingers into Brandy's open wounds on her chest, feeling around for something before stopping.
"You gotta be fucking KIDDING..."
"What is it?", the woman by my side asked.
"Her vessels," he said in disbelief. "They're already carbonized."
"Is that bad?", I asked him.
"It makes this more difficult," he replied, more serious than before. "When a Second Gener destabilizes, their body takes on a more carbonized texture. Nothing short of diamond tipped equipment can penetrate their tissue. Mackiewicz!"
"Sir?", one of the men near the wreckage shouted, waving for emphasis.
"Let them know to tell Chalansky that we're got a clusterfuck on our hands. He's not gonna be happy when he lands, but he's gotta know now before it seriously fucks with his plans for her."
My head popped up with that last sentence.
"Plans for her," I asked, worryingly. "What plans for her? What are you going to do with her?"
I started to get agitated. Trying to get to my feet, I was quickly held down by several people as I thrashed and fought back.
"CALM DOWN, MR. MERCADO!"
"I WON'T fucking calm down, and you need to stop fucking DUSTING me! What are your plans for her?!"
"Mr. Mercado," another man shouted. "Calm down, now!"
I didn't know what else to do. Brandy protected me, and now I felt I had to protect her. So I started swinging at everyone, screaming at them to get the fuck away from us. I sent a few of the fuckers to the ground, which felt really damn good, not gonna dust ya. But then I felt something hard and heavy hit the back of my head, causing me to slump forward and to the side as I fell on top of Brandy's arm. All I could do as I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness was roll onto my back and look up at the sky as a transport carrier came to a stop above us. My hand reflexively grabbing Brandy's as I blacked out.
-
Another nice update! Definitely keeping me at the edge of my seat.
-
By the time I woke up, I was in a white room with a massive mirror by the door. But I'm not that stupid to think that. Even though I felt like I had just gone 25 rounds with Sarzo Lavanazzi, the current Nat Galactic Heavyweight champ, I had seen enough screens to know that had to be a window. Putting my feet on the floor, I stumbled my way towards the window and gave it three slow and loud knocks. Enough time to let whoever was on the other side know what was going on.
"Enough Xandoshit," I told them as I rubbed the back of my head where I was struck. "Where the fuck did you take Brandy?"
It was a long few minutes before I heard the door hissing as it opened. Soon enough, four armed goons walked in, followed closely by a balding man trying way too hard to follow some marketing team's advice to look "executive casual".
"Mr. Mercado," the executive told me, giving me a wry smile that did nothing but make me want to punch his weaselly looking face. "I'm glad to see you're up. We wouldn't want my little Gener's favorite boy toy to be damaged before your big fights."
"Where the fuck am I," I spat at him. "And where's Brandy?"
The exec started to walk back and forth, smiling and acting like this didn't fit right in with a shitty action screener.
"I'm hurt," he said, giving me a puppy dog look. "You ask for pertinent details, but not the most important one?"
Fuck me, he's got an ego. I HATE guys who have an ego. Mouthy, narcissistic little bitches who are all talk and no walk. I should know, I used to be one before I learned better. So I just rolled my eyes.
"Let me guess," I told him. "you want me to ask you 'And who would you be', right?"
"Well if you're going to rude about it," he said, looking hurt. "Then I won't tell you about Bustamante's kid..."
Damn it! This is why I HATE guys with egos...
"Fine," I said, clearly exasperated. "Who is the man responsible for all of this to happen?"
He began to clap with glee before gently pushing the armed men he brought with him to the side.
"I knew you'd get it," he told me, giving me a look that weirded me out. "My name's Emil Chalansky, and I'm Tekalmor's Chief Operating Officer. Without me, nothing happens. Like you being brought to one of our drop worlds to train with a superstar and his... special little girl."
"That's all well and good," I told him, glancing at his guards before glaring back at him. "But you still didn't answer me. Where the fuck am I, and where the fuck is Brandy?"
Chalansky slowly gave me a smile that was a mix between a cult leader and a child who was up to no good, chuckling the entire time.
"I can answer both," he said, before wagging his finger like a child trying to tell a pet to follow him. "Come along!"
As soon as he began walking, his guards moved into position around me. A perfect square of two by two so that I was perfectly flanked at all times.
"You heard him," one of the guards behind me said, pushing me forward. "Start walking!"
Knowing I was in no position to oppose the order, I started following Chalansky. The men boxing me in kept in perfect step as we walked, their footsteps perfectly echoing mine. I don't know if it was by accident or on purpose, but the perfect synchronicity was effective at scaring the crap out of me. Whoever these men were, they were perfectly trained. As we turned down the hallway towards some elevators, Chalansky began to speak again.
"Over 100 years ago," he said, sounding like some sort of tour guide. "Tekalmor developed the First Generation of genetically altered beings that would be categorized as superhuman by more... primitive standards. In truth, it was by some small miracle. Or should I say... BIG miracle?"
Once again, his weasel laugh burrowed its way into my head. Did I mention I hate guys with fucking Egos? Because yeah. Of course, Chalansky just kept on talking as he pressed the call button.
"Anyway, in the beginning, we marketed Geners as 'the ultimate workers'. We let them live their lives, naturally. And we let them have families. But soon, those kids grew up! And we saw something unexpected."
The elevator arrived with a ding. Chalansky boarded first, followed by the two guards in front of me as they made themselves a wall to defend their C.O.O. Then I was forced on board, followed by the two guards at my rear, who flanked themselves once more. A box within a box, as Chalansky slipped a card into a reader which beeped and flashed a blue light. And soon, we were going down.
"Geners kids started turning into Geners themselves," I told him. "Blockbuster told me, yeah."
"Exactly," Chalansky said, smiling and wide eyed. "But some of them just kept growing! Soon, they started looking less like their papas, and more like their progenitor! The source of the DNA itself!"
"I already knew that," I said, trying to figure out where the Hell he was going with this, or just where the Hell we were going at all.
"But there's something you DON'T know, Marco! We learned an ABSURD amount about how the human genome REALLY works! For centuries, we spent some much time and effort figuring out how to bond anything to a human cell! But with these Second Geners, we learned something wildly different!"
I looked at Chalansky like he had grown a third head, utterly confused by what the Hell he was saying.
"And what would that be?", I asked him.
That's when all pretense dropped from him, as he stared at me like I was a product that wasn't selling well.
"There was an ancient saying that 'humanity is a parasite feasting on the resources of the world'," he said, staring directly at me as the elevator slowed. "And with the Second Geners, we found that instead of attaching things onto our DNA, it was far more effective for us to attach OUR DNA onto that of others."
As the doors opened, I heard the sounds of something slamming loudly, and felt the vibrations of each impact. The walls shook and the lights flickered with each concussive force as we travelled down the hallway to the blast doors on the other side. It was the sounds of something angry, something powerful. Something that was trying to fight its way to freedom.
"What are you saying," I shouted at him, the din of the clambering rattle of metal and stone deafening all but the traumatic sounds of violence. "Humanity really IS a parasite?"
Chalansky just smiled that insidious, empty smile once more before using his card once more.
"Humanity is NOTHING, Mr. Mercado! Especially not a parasite!"
The doors roared to life as a yellow light began to flash. They slowly opened with a hiss as we all felt a pull of air rush around us, pulling us slightly in. And as soon as I saw what was on the other side of the door, I audibly gasped.
Inside were a team of scientists, busy as ants as they checked on the things inside the chambers within. There they loomed, quiet and unmoving except for the occasional blinking of the fifty foot tall statue beings. Their skin was a dark blue, and while they each had differing expressions of gender, every single one seemed to be perfectly chiseled from stone itself. All were hairless. All had no pupils. All bore a physique born from time and effort, perfectly proportioned and sculpted to maximum definition. Giant, stone gods that resided in translucent chambers, watching with passing interest as their smaller, naked sister, Brandy Bustamante, rallied and raged as she continued to scream and strike at her cage that was the front middle chamber. Each blow shaking the very foundation as she threw them. Her face and chest still torn open from her fight with the Galger Beast. The tears flowing down her face as she threw combo after combo at the walls surrounding her, screaming to be let out.
"Humans DNA is the key for EVERYTHING ELSE," Chalansky said, laughing in disturbing glee as he raised his arms as if in praise to the gigantic children of Tekalmor's mad experiment.
-
THhs story keeps getting better and better.
-
What remains exceptional about this story is that it is a spectacular work of speculative/science fiction on its own - independent of it's lace on this board as a niche genre of FMG, etc. Just awesome awesome work GLK!
-
As Chalansky gleefully cackled like some cel screen villain, my eyes couldn't help but look up at the Second Geners who had fully destabilized. The way their deep blue stony skin rippled, twitching in need of activity as they stood completely still. The way their eyes seemed transfixed as some of them watched Brandy, screaming and lashing out in a desperate bid for freedom, or watching Chalansky and his soldiers as they had me surrounded. As I stared back at them, I noticed that every one of them seemed to be holding their breath. It was only a second later that I made my first realization about them.
None of them, not a single 50 foot tall being in any of the containment cells, was breathing at all.
My heart began to hammer in my chest at the implication of a being that didn't need to breath. Every living thing needed to breath. So why not them?
"They are BEAUTIFUL," Chalansky said, turning back towards me with the beatific look of a fervent supplicant on his face. "Aren't they, Marco?"
"They're... something," I told him, my eyes not coming off of the Second Geners for a single second.
Walking towards a console, the fanatical C.O.O. brought up a Nano-filament screen in my line of sight which began to display the names and faces of every single destabilized Gener in every cell.
"To think," he said. "Every single one of these children has been collected over 100 years. And these aren't even MOST of them!"
My focus broke, turning my head to look at Chalansky.
"What do you mean 'MOST of them'?", I asked him. "I thought Second Geners were supposed to be extremely unique?"
"Please," he replied derisively, rolling his eyes as he waved his hand at me as if to brush me off. "If it's got genitals and it wants to fuck, then it's super easy to reproduce something. I mean, we've got our Golden Calves like Bustamante. But we've got other chattel to work from we don't show."
I couldn't help myself as I charged at Chalansky, ready to beat him within an inch of his life. But his guards were even quicker, laying into me before I even had a chance. I went down to my hands and knees as all four of them proceeded to kick the ever loving fuck out of me. After a few seconds, Chalansky whistled for his guards to stop. And like well trained dogs, they quickly went back to standing around me as I was left gasping and coughing. Groaning as blood poured out of my mouth from where I lost a tooth after I ended up eating the tip of a steel toed boot.
"You're not in a ring," Chalansky said, squatting down and grabbing my hair to look me in the eye. "This is the real world, kid. And the real world is war, Marco."
I waited a moment to let some of my blood pool in my mouth before spitting on Chalansky's expensive looking shit.
"I know that," I told him. "My brother died in The Zavaran Conflict, asshole! You'd have known that if you actually read my file!"
Letting my hair go, Chalansky snapped his fingers. And then I felt what seemed like thunder through my veins as 50,000 volts shot through my system. I cried out in pain as I was left twitching and spasming, but still conscious on the floor. My breath was ragged as my eyes drifted back towards the Second Geners. It was there that I had my second realization.
Every single one, except for Brandy, was looking directly at me. Every completely white, stony eye burrowing deep into me. And in my stupor, I realized that they were able to actually see BEYOND the boundaries of their one way mirrored cells. Every single gaze judging me, evaluating me. I could feel their eyes deep within my soul. Telling me to rise. To get to my feet. To not give Chalansky the satisfaction of staying down.
"That's the problem with you consumers," Chalansky told me. "We tell you the truth, and you act like you heard a lie. We really know what's best for you! War is a product, after all! And we're the best in the industry."
"What do you mean by 'war is a product'?", I spat out trying to catch my breath.
"The Zavaran Conflict," he said. "Us. The incident involving Brandy's mother? Marvellus trying to keep our satellites out of their restricted sectors. The Vezzazi Wars? Locutos needing to increase market shares. Culture War is just a form of Market Competition, Marco. And it's all about branding!"
"You... fucking MONSTER," I growled, looking up at him as he laughed. Then, like if he was dancing, he kicked me in my face once more.
"Same old song and dance," he said. "We do the right thing, guide humanity along and someone automatically wants to play hero. Ah, well. What are you going to do?"
As he turned away from me, laughing like only the mad do, I turned towards the Second Geners, still staring directly at me. But slowly I saw their looks change. Before it was a look of indifference or pity. But now I knew they had finished judging me. And with a nod of their heads, they all lifted their heads upward. And in one unified voice, released a song in multi-tones. A series of harmonics impossible for the human voice to replicate, timbered in crystalline notes too resonant for any natural tone to mimic. A song of support. Music of the spheres expressed in fifty foot tall living chambers. Every voice, filling the room with sound and sending those attending them into a massive panic.
"Wait," Chalansky said, spinning around in confusion as his scientists were running back and forth. "Wh-What's going on? I thought they were all MUTE? I THOUGHT THEIR CELLS WERE SOUNDPROOF ON OUR COMMAND?!"
But as he was left blind, Brandy slowly ceased her raging in her cell. Looking around as the song permeated every corner of her containment. A look of understanding on her face.
"What?", Brandy asked, looking around as she listened to the song of her siblings. "What do you- Marco? Marco's HERE?!"
She turned towards where she had been lashing out before, steadying herself as she focused on where she wanted to strike. Cocking her hand back, she swung with every ounce of energy she had. Striking the side of the cell and causing the whole room to shake violently.
"MARCO!", she screamed before swinging again. "I'M HERE!"
As she kept calling my name, I knew I had to rise. To stop laying there on the floor like a worm. If Brandy was willing to fight back, then DAMN IT! SO WAS I!
With a mighty groan, I began to push myself upright. The blood from my mouth pouring down my chin as I slowly got to my knees. Chalansky watched with concern as I pulled myself together, slowly getting my feet beneath me. Stumbling and swaying as I spat a long string of blood, wiping my chin and mouth as I stared Chalansky in the eye.
"HEY, ASSHOLE!", I shouted.
Chalansky began to scurry backwards, knowing that he was actually in mortal danger as the wall of Brandy's containment cell loudly fractured as she continued fighting her way to freedom.
"GUARDS," he screamed. "PROTECT ME! STOP HIM AND PROTECT ME!"
I raised my hands to fight, knowing it had to be either him or me. And I wasn't planning on making it that easy for him.
"MY GIRLFRIEND AND I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE A FUCKING WORD WITH YOU!"
-
A very intense update! Really want to see Chalansky get his comeuppance!
-
A very intense update! Really want to see Chalansky get his comeuppance!
Trust me, this is going in a direction that might be very surprising. I've found that as I've written Blockbuster more and more, it's been shaping into a setting that's pretty much WH40K but Corporations.
-
The thing about Products is that sometimes, it takes a long time for them to develop. A lesson Quasar Jump Engineer Tobias Mercado knew all too well on his last flight home on the Stelladonna, a Class Five Freighter with Corporate clearance of all seven of the Megacorporations that was over one million, two hundred and seventy eight thousand, nine hundred and forty three lightyears from Earth.
In all his years, he had never wanted anything more than to get home. He missed his wife, Shanie. He missed his sons, Rico and Marco. And most of all, he missed being on solid ground. He had enough of the day to day life on ships, jumping through ports, dealing with the day to day on a tin can powered by a theoretical engine that could explode at any given moment, producing enough energy to quickly convert it into matter, then collapse into a black hole the size of three clones of Jupiter, causing a Dark Event before eating itself. His five years of duty for the Hilston Transport company was nearly up. Which meant the ten year deal he made with that shady company in order to have kids in the first place was up, too. And he could go home with no one knowing of the corporate espionage and product sabotage he had committed to fulfil his end of the bargain.
Laying in his quarters, his mind turned to logistics to keep himself from getting too worked up. Only Earth two days, he reasoned. That was four jumps. That was the real maximum number of safe jumps for a freighter as big as The Stelladonna could take in one go. 24 hours to get to the first port gate, then six hours between each subsequent gate. And he'd be home. Back with his family. Very well compensated for all his work. And he'd never have to work with any company ever again. And never have to take any orders from the CEO of the Alva-
"Engineer Mercado," the voice of Cpt. Salvagno blared through his intercom setup in his quarters. "Please report to the bridge. We have a situation that needs your attention. Engineer Mercado, report to the bridge ASAP."
Pushing himself upright with a groan, Tobias's mind began to run over sccenario after scenario as he was left wondering why he was being called to the bridge. Did they know he was working on behalf of another company? Did they know about the sabotage he committed in the name of financial obligations and corporate equity? Did they know he had agreed to undisclosed treatments that broke the terms of his contract several years prior before the birth of his youngest son? As he left his quarters to begin the long trek to the elevator to the bridge, all these and more burned in his mind.
As he walked down the hall, the sound of his boots on the floor reminded him of an ancient ticking clock he had to fix for a mechanical engineering class decades ago, counting down to his own doom. The vulcanized metal tinking on the metal support beneath his feet, measured out in perfect seconds that burrowed into his head like a metal nail slowly hammering into the most tender of his organs. The personnel blurred into one another as he passed by them, faces blanking out as he knew his time and freedom was up. He actually loved being on the freighter. The friends he made on here, the places he had been to. Every experience was amazing beyond words. But he knew that even if he somehow escaped, his memories would be wiped. Corporate orders, after all. No secrets got out, even if it meant some potential long term damage that not even a dip in a nano-gel tank could fix. And being a jump engineer meant you knew some of the best kept ones in any corporation.
Suddenly, the fog he found himself in was broken when a hand belonging to the voice that he had not been hearing grabbed his shoulder. Turning around, he came face to face with a towering, physically imposing redhead with four arms, each crossed in front of her as she smiled down on him.
"What's with you today?", she asked him.
"Huh?"
She crooked her top left arm towards an open doorway, jabbing her thumb at the crewmates inside.
"It's game night," she told him, her smile disappearing when she realized he looked out of sorts. "Hey, are you okay, Toby?"
Figuring out that he must look out of sorts right now, he put on his bravest goofy smile and scratched the back of his head.
"Got called to the bridge. They wanted me for something."
A jolly, gruff voice called out from inside the open room.
"Camille! Iz dat Toby I hear?"
Camille and Toby looked back at the open room in time to see a pair of eyeballs attached to eyestalk round the corner. Toby knew that Jenson, the crab stitcher that was also a notorious card shark, was free to play that evening.
"Was wondering when you were gonna poke your eyes around the corner, buddy!"
As Camille put her right arms around Tobias, the balding crab man rounded the corner. His giant claws swinging through first, his fingers perfectly segmented to replicate his genetic familiar's pincers, twitching and clicking with incredible dexterity for how large he is, towering larger than Camille's six foot five by a good foot taller. His orange and red chitinous skin covering his arms and shoulders as he ducked through the door frame.
"C'mon," Jenson said, crooking a shark's smile at Tobias. "I'm feelin' lucky tonight and I wanna bilk ya out some creds, compadre!"
"No can do," Camille told him. "Our boy got called to the bridge!"
Quickly scuttling over, Jenson began to laugh and playfully jab his buddy in the torso. Lightly tapping him knowing full well if he unloaded, he would hurt his nat friend. But truth be told, if Camille wasn't holding him up, Tobias would have been on the floor after the first tap anyway.
"Someone got in trouble! Ya know fer what, Toby?"
Shaking his head, Tobias tried to hide that he knew he was a dead man walking.
"Probably need me for some calculations or something," he said, forcing himself to smile to not worry his Stitcher friends.
Camille's top left hand began to ruffle his hair as she laughed, knowing that something was bothering Tobias but letting him keep it secret.
"C'mon," she told Jenson. "We shouldn't keep him away from the Captain for very long. We don't know how long he's got left before they use a Marvellus Blanker on you and port you into deep space or something!"
"Yeah," Jenson added with a laugh, turning Tobias around by his shoulders before gently kicking him in the butt to get him moving. "I'll win yer money later! Make steps before ya get in real trouble, Toby!"
Rubbing his ass playfully, Tobias laughed it all off and waved to his friends as he walked off. But as soon as they couldn't see his face, his smiled faded into a frown. If they knew what he had done, the acts he committed. He knew they would disown him, and most likely swiftly and brutally kick his ass within an inch of his life. As he walked down the hallway, his eyes kept drifting to the varying ads that kept shifting from one company to another. From Xando Joy Bubbles Gum to the Shay 9 smartcom from Marvellus, to the latest Tekalmor sponsored Gener fights with their new superstar, Braden Bustamante. In fact, the very product currently in transit on the freighter was a shipment of Tekalmor and Didanto Cross-tech Medical Engineer equipment in order to help create a new planet that Tekalmor had ordered to make it more hospitable.
The Seven Corporation Of Man. He had betrayed every single corporation, one of the cardinal laws. All so he could have the family he wanted. Pressing the button to call the elevator, his stomach felt like it was eating itself as he waited for the voice.
"Level 28," a synthetic feminine voice called out. "Personel Quarters."
Taking a deep breath, Tobias waited for the lift to empty before climbing on. Looking down the hallway, he saw someone near the far end beginning to hustle towards him. And in a panic, he closed the doors before pressing the button for Level 213. When he felt the elevator shift, he unknowingly found himself still holding his breath. So, not wanting to be found passed out on the floor, he grunted as he exhaled as much at one time as he could, doubling over and coughing as he rubbed his chest. His burning lungs reminding him that despite his worries, he was still alive... for now.
"Your vitals seemed stressed," the elevator's voice said to him. "Would you like to hear some advertisements while you wait to help you relax?"
"No thanks," Tobias replied, stretching to try and calm his nerves. "Silence preferred."
"I cannot comply with that," the voice informed him. "Would you like an ad for Kiianis Relief Consoles, XeXe Torque Techy Adapts or Jiman Pro Note Rigs?"
Tobias' face screwed up at the options, looking at the onboard camera in the corner.
"A sex toy, Cybernetic Impant Surgery or Musical Equipment? Hard pass. Can you at least play some music?"
"I cannot comply with that. You must choose at least one advertisement before I am allowed to play music. Charter policy, you know."
Groaning at the options he was given, he needed SOMETHING to distract himself from the fate he was walking towards. With one hand on his hip and the other pinching the bridge of his nose, he made his decision.
"Fine," he said. "Gimme... a XeXe Torque Tech Adapt ad."
Within a few beeps, the advertisement began. As he listened to it, he was thoroughly uncaring about the message he was being given about "the folly of flesh", how his body could break down but they had the tools to "build him back up again", and how time "meant nothing to the wonders of cybernetics". Not realizng just how long the ad was, he soon felt the elevator come to a stop and jostle him slightly before the voice spoke up again.
"Level 223: Bridge and Officer's Deck."
As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, the doors slammed shut behind him. Turning to look at the lift, he immediately saw that the lights were off and the camera was turned off. Making that gnawing sensation inside his gut only grow more.
"What the fuck?"
A voice shouted out, causing Tobias to jump in his own skin. A voice that was far too familiar.
"Engineer Tobias Mercado!"
Turning to look, his panic only mounted as his eyes befell two people. A Gener and his partner, a female stitcher whose features were mixed with those of some kind of feline he had never seen before, with a blue and yellow pelt with black stripes that went down her fur.
"Corporate Affairs Investigation," she told him. "On behalf of both The Charter and The Ledgers, you are here under your own free will for questioning."
The Gener quickly moved in, clasping a pair of stasis tech bracelets onto him. Before he could even do anything, the bracelets released a field that quickly covered his hands, sending a charge to each other that slapped his hands together and prevented him from even moving a finger in response.
"Marvellus Stay-Holds on," the Gener told his partner.
"Now please," she purred as she and her fellow officer grabbed Tobias' arms. "Do try and not break the terms. I'm feeling... playful today."
A sudden piercing sensation caused Tobias to cry out as the officer dug her claws into his flesh enough to let him know she was serious.
"I'll comply," Tobias shouted. "I'LL COMPLY!"
As the pair forcefully began to drag him off, Tobias knew that he was right.
He was a dead man.
-
As he was dragged into an interrogation room and thrown into the chair, Tobias had to curse his luck. Of all the people in the entire universe, he had to stumble into the hands of one of the most noted Executive Resource Security Investigators in all of the Seven Corporations Of Man.
"So," the Feline Stitcher said, sitting down across from him with a warm smile. "It's been a while, Tobias."
The nat breathed deeply and exhaled slowly. It's hard to keep your composure when the one who's questioning you is not only a notoriously efficient Corporate Agent, but also your last long term ex-girlfriend, after all.
"Amarie," Tobias said, forcing himself to smile convincingly. "You look good. Definitely a new look. Did you get put into a stitched clone?"
Agent Dryler smirked as she waved her hands in front of herself.
"You like? Dursarian Leopard Stitch. Got the reasoning of a human and some of the sharpest claws in five sectors. Security Policy has its perks!"
Her massive Gener partner coughed and cleared his throat, getting her attention.
"I know," she told him. rolling her eyes before motioning towards her partner. "Tobias Mercado, this is Agent Lomanz. We will be asking you some questions pertaining to unusual circumstances surrounding various bits of Sabotage and Corporate Espionage that investigations led to The Stelladonna."
The two men gave each other a quick wave as Agent Dryler continued, sliding a screen in front of Tobias for him to read.
"I want to stress that this is merely a formality, as you are one of the lead engineers on The Stelladonna. And as such, we will be going from the top down. Do you comply with this investigation?"
Tobias' eyes drifted towards her, looking for a bit of sympathy. But as they looked at each other, he saw he would get nothing. He hadn't seen Amarie for over ten years. But in that time, he could tell that her new Stitcher form wasn't the only thing that had changed. He had wanted to beseech her for clemency, to ply at their time together. But in those ten years, the sweet, kind woman she was had become a hardened Agent, well known for doing what it took to get results. Her fingers tapping the table, she knew he noticed them. And ever so slowly, as they continued to tap out their rhythm, she reflexively extended her claws. Letting the soft tapping become a sharp tack.
"Do you comply, Tobias?" she reiterated.
Knowing he was in a no win scenario, Tobias slowly lifted his manacled hands and gently tapped "Comply" on the screen. Agent Lomanz quickly scooped up the screen with a smile before putting his hand on Tobias' shoulder.
"Thank you for complying," he rumbled before straightening his back and standing at the ready.
"So before we begin," Amarie dryly said, looking him directly in the eye. "How's your family? I heard you married Shanie? She's a nice lady."
Tobias raised his hands, breaking eye contact as he knew this trick of hers.
"No," he said, shaking his head while making sure he wasn't looking at her. "You're not doing this."
"Not doing what?", she asked coyly as she gave her partner a sly smirk.
"You're not going to bait me with getting wistful about my family," her replied. "I'm the ONE PERSON who knows you that well, Amarie. So no tricks, and no using my family against me!"
"You wound me," Amarie told him, pointing at something as Agent Lomanz walked over to that side of the room. "I would never do that to you, Tobias! I still care for you, which is why I asked for this case! Better me than someone who doesn't care-"
The sudden sensation of a hand on his head caused Tobias to cry out as Agent Lomanz slammed his head into the table, smashing his face beneath the giant's powerful palms and causing one of his teeth to fly out of his mouth.
"For example," Amarie said, gesturing towards her partner. "Agent Lomanz."
"Yeah," Lomanz growled, letting his sadistic enjoyment slip through. "I don't play nice."
Tobias squirmed, unable to fully comprehend just how strong the man holding him down was. All he knew was the pressure that was crushing his skull and the taste of blood welling up in his mouth.
"Don't do this," he begged them. "I said I'd comply! You don't have to kill me!"
"Maybe it wasn't US that killed you," Amarie said, getting out of her seat to lean forward over the table. "Maybe it was some random jackoid on a stim high due to overclocking his systems? Or a fight broke out and you were just unlucky?"
As he struggled with the Gener bastard holding him down, he could see something that showed the old Amarie was long gone. The look of a predator toying with her prey, her twitching tail accompanied by an amused smile he had seen when they watched her favorite Celluloid in the middle of a snowy January eleven years ago. Back when he thought she was the one and was preparing to propose to her before she let him know she had been offered a job working for the Megacorporations. A job she quickly and happily took without even giving him a reason why she applied and leaving him with an empty apartment and a broken heart.
"You would really... kill me?", he asked her through grit teeth.
"We know about Dusari 246," she coldly said, getting serious. "About the sabotage to the drills. And Yuzal 017, with the leaked equipment plans. And the Hyzon leak on Upani 066. And everything else, Tobias. You're at every location, and have security clearance for every important situation."
Reaching out, he could see her claws come out as they came closer to his face. He began to kick and shout for help, but was unable to move as she brought her fingers closer to his face. Letting the tension build as he realized what she was about to do. But he was unable to get free from the Gener agent's grasp as the feline stitcher gently placed her claws right above his eyes. He knew why they were doing this. They wanted an answer to why. As he felt Amarie's talons slowly sink into the flesh around his eye, a dam inside his heart burst.
"I'M STERILE!", Tobias screamed as the tears began to flow, catching the two agents off-guard.
"Wait," Lomanz said, letting go of Tobias' head. "But you have two kids! How? Unique stitchers or clones?"
"I don't know how," Tobias answered, sobbing. "But Shanie and I wanted kids so badly, and we got approached with an offer ten years ago! And I took it! And-"
"Hold on," Amarie said, confused at Tobias' sudden admission. "Who gave you the treatments?"
"I can't tell you," Tobias said, shuddering. "If I tell you, they said they would know and take my kids away! I can't lose them! It would kill Shanie! And... And I-"
Amarie quickly stood from her seat, a snarling growl escaping from her as she bared her fangs at her former lover.
"TELL US WHO, TOBIAS!"
His breath growing ragged, he hung his head in shame as he felt the bile in his stomach slowly start to fill his throat.
"It... I was approached by the Al-"
The ship cantilevered to the right as an explosion rocked the core of the ship, sending a massive shockwave throughout the massive freighter. The lights flickered from their common halogen glow to a frightening swirl of orange and red as the emergency alarm blared and the sound system crackled to life.
"ALERT," Captain Salvagno's voice called out, worried but focused. "THIS IS CAPTAIN SALVAGNO! THERE HAS BEEN AN EXPLOSION ON LEVEL THIRTY EIGHT! I REPEAT, THERE HAS BEEN AN EXPLOSION IN THE QUASAR JUMP ENGINE! ALL AVAILABLE ENGINEERS, REPORT TO THE ENGINE BAY ASAP! ALL CIVILIANS AND NON-ENGINEER PERSONEL, READY FOR POSSIBLE EVACUATION IMMEDIATELY! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL!"
-
As the alarms blared and the ship balanced itself out, the three people in the interrogation room quickly righted themselves as they stood up.
"What the fuck is going on?", Agent Lomanz shouted, rushing to the console by the door.
"I don't know," Amarie replied, pulling out her Shay11 and quickly swiping back and forth. "Schematics say there were explosions on Decks 18, 35, 119, 132 and 174. Starboard, bow, starboard, port and bow. We must have a Rival onboard."
Tobias, knowing the urgency of the crisis, ran around to Amarie's side.
"You gotta let me out of these," he pleaded as he held up his hands, still encased in the Stay-Holds' stasis field. "They need me down there!"
"You are going NOWHERE," the feline Stitcher growled at him, pushing him to the side and onto his back as she joined her partner at the console. "Marcel, why isn't the door opening?"
"I think it's protocol," he said, gently pulling off the panel and beginning to work on the wires. "Give me a minute, and I can rig this to unlock it."
As the two agents anxiously worked on getting the door open, Tobias laughed at how much danger they were all in. If they had actually cared about letting him out of the cuffs, he could have put in the override code to let them all out. But if they didn't want his help, then he wouldn't give it to them. He had to get down to level thirty eight, figure out what caused the explosion and contain any possible leaks. And if he was delayed, then the problems would exacerbate until there was a complete core implosion. Leading to a Black Event that would wipe out not only their ship, but every celestial body within a quarter light year. As he gathered his wits, he noticed a window of opportunity. Or, more appropriately, a vent of opportunity.
As the Gener tried time and time again to jerry rig the wiring for the door, Tobias scuttled on his hands and knees towards the vent, making sure to keep an eye on his interrogators. Gently lifting his hands, he slipped his pinky and ring finger into the latch on the side, making sure to use the rest of his hands to catch the metal grate so it wouldn't fall. And easily pushing to the left, it came undone, allowing him to quietly place it on the floor. Turning back to his captors, he noticed that the console was beginning to light up. So, taking that as his cue, his quickly ducked into the vent and made his escape.
"Almost... GOT IT!", Lomanz cheered as the console lit up and the door opened wide.
"Finally," Amarie said, relieved. "Now, let's grab Tobias and get out of-"
As soon as she saw the open vent, the decorated Corporate Affairs Investigators released an inhuman roar as she swiped her claws at the door console, tearing it off the wall with deep gashes as she ran out of the room to begin her manhunt for her former lover. Blood on her mind as her massive Gener partner had to sprint to keep up with her.
_______________________________________________________________________
Having intimate knowledge of the vent systems of the ship, Tobias quickly made his way down to 211 in the hopes that Computations would provide him some space, given how empty that level usually was. But as soon as he popped out from beside the Didanto Neural Maximizing Calculatrix, the most insipidly named but powerful system money could buy, the mechanical engineer realized that was not to be. The room, filled with every possible Science Engineer the ship had, was a flurry of activity as every Sci-Tech was on hand to download every spec, every file, every important piece of data they could get their hands on, wiping drives as they went. Nothing was being left to chance. If the ship was gonna vaporize, then they would make sure there was nothing that could be recovered or stolen before then in a blind panic.
Quickly maneuvering out of the room, Tobias ran down the hallway, away from the elevators he had used and Amarie and her brute were going to take to find him. He knew he couldn't take the stairs, as that would take too long. He could risk taking the far side lifts, see if he could run the chance of the security system not seeing the Stay Holds on his hands. But he knew that the quickest way to get directly to the engine room was through the All-Hands Tunnel. Or as the crew called it, "The Drop to Hell", mostly due to the fact that you fell fast, you fell far, and you ran the risk of killing yourself if you weren't careful.
Slamming his elbow into the console by the tunnel, the system sprung to life.
"Emergency Protocol activated," a synthetic woman's voice resounded. "Which level is the emergency on?"
"Level 38," Tobias told it. A second later, the console beeped and turned green.
"Acknowledged. Please step inside and prepare for transport."
Stepping into the drop shaft, the automated system kicked on as the drop floor lit up. Various mechanical arms sprung out, startling Tobias a bit as they proceeded to hook him up to the safety harnesses that dropped down around him.
"Come on," he begged the machine. "Hurry! Hurry, hurry, hur-"
"STOP," he heard someone shouting. But before he looked he already knew who it was. Amarie and Lomanz had spotted him, even from down the far hallway. Absolute panic taking hold with an icy grip as he could feel his heart hammering in his chest.
"Drop me now!"
"You are not fully attached," the system replied. "By all regulations, you must be fully connected in case of catastrophic-"
"I don't care," he screamed, watching as both the Stitcher and the Gener sprinted down the hallway, Amarie on all fours as she ran. "DROP ME NOW, DAMN IT! NOW!"
With a click, the floor gave way, sending Tobias into a freefall right as Amarie yowled ferociously, her claws barely missing the top of his head. As he screamed while he plummeted, Amarie deftly turned her body in mid-air, planting her feet on the wall and jumping back to safety out of the All-Hands Tunnel and landing next to her partner.
"Let's go," she commanded Lomanz, not even giving him a moment to catch his breath as they immediately began their run back to the elevators. Knowing that he would reach the engine room level before they even got to the lift.
The sound of his screams echoed all around him, unable to hear himself as the wind roared in his ears as he fell fast. The numbers were a blur as he fell, but given how fast the large, blocky stencils were counting down, he knew he'd be there soon. If he was right, then he was in the lower 100's, meaning the system should be activating by floor 95.
Imagine his surprise when he saw the fuzzy outline of a 95 whiz by in front of him, with no sign of him stopping.
"STOP," he screamed.
His words meant nothing as he rapidly fell through the 80's.
"I SAID STOP!"
The 70's were a blur as he continued his descent. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he looked down as a little doorway of light opened. He knew he was near his stop, but if he didn't, then he'd be nothing but meat and blood smeared upon the floor of level 01. Looking up, he saw the number 64 blow right by him, causing him to look down. A plan came to mind. One that was incredibly stupid and extremely dangerous, but he knew that he was in freefall from a catastrophic failure from improper safety connections.
So, with only once chance, he began to swing his legs back and forth. Letting the wind catch him to give him extra leverage.
"56," he said, keeping track of the levels.
His momentum grew as he shifted his body.
"52!"
He centered his mass, letting air pressure push him up more as it caught his back and legs in an arc. Trajectory swaying him more as he actively began kicking back and forth.
"47! Come on!"
His momentum grew as he grew more desperate, letting centripetal force aid him.
"44! COME ON!"
He swung his legs once more, kicking as hard as he could to force himself forward. Crying out in joy as his feet made contact with the wall, planting his feet and kicking off with a laugh as he swung back fast. His back slamming against the wall, jolting him out of his joy as he saw the level 40 stencil. And with a mighty push, he leaped downward, watching the 39 stencil fly breeze past him as he approached the door. He was overjoyed that he had gotten his momentum and spatial awareness calculations correct.
The only problem was, now that he was approaching the door, he had gotten his angle of re-entry figures wrong. Slamming his face into the top of the frame of the doorway, he tumbled directly onto the hallway floor dramatically and painfully instead of sliding in like he had hoped. The air was knocked out of his lungs as engineers ran back and forth past him, too dazed to properly move as his side ached fiercely and his head bleed profusely. At this moment, nothing mattered to Tobias. There was no explosion. Agents were not out to get him. All there was, was the pain and the dull roar of his adrenaline still pumping in his veins.
As he was caught in a stupor, he suddenly realized he was being put upright. Looking over to see who it was, he instantly saw orange and red, and the body of a very large person.
"TOBY," Jenson said, surprised to see his friend in his current state as he unstrapped Tobias from the harness. "What da fuck HAPP'N'D to ya, buddy?!"
"Doesn't matter," Tobias mumbled, already on the move. "Gotta... Gotta help with the engine..."
Jenson quickly grabbed his friend as he began to fall, holding him up with an arm/claw around his back.
"Yer not gonna go nowhere," Jenson said. "We're gonna lay ya down, and yer gonna tell me what da fuck is going-"
Tobias fell to the floor as Jenson let go of him, causing the Nat to groan as he fell on his side once more. Looking over, his blood ran cold as he watched his friend being held high by his neck. Held in place by Agent Lomanz as Amarie circled around her partner.
"You shouldn't have run," she taunted him, smiling cruelly as Lomanz slammed Jenson into the nearby wall as hard as he could. Crumpling the foot thick metal paneling as Jenson fell to the floor, unresponsive.
"Gotta... save the SHIP," Tobias said, trying to get to his feet. But for his efforts, all he got was a swift kick in the ribs from Agent Dryler as she cackled in glee.
"You fucked up that chance," Amarie said, stepping on his back as he screamed in pain. Feeling the shifting of his broken ribs as she jammed her foot down upon his spine.
"There's... still a cha-HANCE! Still a chance I can... stop the leak!"
With another swift kick, Tobias rolled onto his back as Amarie quickly stomped on his abdomen. Grinding her boot in as she looked down on him.
"Fuck'em," Amarie said, leaning down to gloat. "The Seven Corporations have a life insurance policy for everyone onboard. Sole beneficiaries. So it's not like they'll be losing money, Bee."
"You can't call me that anymore," Tobias said, grimacing in pain. "Only Shanie can, Amarissa."
"You know I don't like to be called Amarissa, TOBIAS!"
Grinding her foot into his ribs once more, he began to hyperventilate as the pain grew more and more intense. He knew that if she kept this up, he would require complete Med-Tech Surgery. Possible artificial osteo-implants. Well, if he survived. As his head lolled, his eyes happened to catch the sight of someone hiding behind Agent Lomanz. Someone with two right arms, holding the harness for the All-Hands Tunnel.
Looking back up into Amarie's blue and yellow and black fur lined face, he defiantly smiled as he stared into her bright yellow feline eyes.
"You know what else you don't like to be called, Amarissa?"
"What's that?", she asked.
"STUPID! Because that's what you are!"
With a snarl, she raised her leg to stomp on her ex that she had trapped beneath her once more. But the sound of an energy weapon firing, followed by her partner falling to the ground, twitching and grunting and groaning caught her by surprise. Seizing the opportunity, he pushed Amarie's leg, toppling her to the side towards his savior. Camille, deftly dropping a strange gun to her side, caught the Corporate Agent. And before Agent Dryler could even react, had hooked her up into the harness.
"Mind the drop," Camille told her before tossing the feline Stitcher agent into the shaft, causing her to fall down towards the lower levels.
Catching his breath in short bursts, Tobias lay on the floor as Camille sauntered over. The buff four armed redhead leaned over, grabbing the Stay Hold controller and turning it off. Freeing his hands before extending her two right ones out to her friend. Laughing, the Nat took the invitation, crying out in pain as she lifted him off the floor and onto his feet.
"You okay?", she asked, genuinely concerned.
"Broken ribs," he said, grimacing as he stiffened his back while taking off his cuffs. "Maybe a concussion, too."
"I could see why," she said, moving his hair a bit as she looked at the gash on his head.
Looking down at Agent Lomanz, Tobias' eyes drifted to the gun by his Stitcher friend's side.
"What the fuck did you do?", he pointedly asked, his eyes drifting back to the fallen and twitching Gener, still laying on the ground. The buff woman he had known for almost a decade just put the gun on her shoulder.
"Neural Plugger," she said, smirking. "Experimental. Meant for use on Geners."
"I don't... WHAT?", Tobias said, very confused by her answer.
"Alvajji tech," she said, nonchalantly. Suddenly, Tobias knew what she was implying.
"You're part of Alvajji, too? The explosions! You did that?"
"No time," she said, switching the gun to her other arm so she could help brace Tobias. "We gotta go, Toby!"
But as soon as she wrapped her arms around him, he pushed her away.
"NO," he screamed. "This isn't what I signed up for! Sabotage, yes. But killing thousands? Even MILLIONS?!"
He began to stumble away from her, walking down the hall towards the engine room.
"Tobias," Camille shouted, running up to him and grabbing his shoulder. "Don't! It's suicide if you go in there and you know it!"
"I won't have a damn Genocide on my hands," he told her, his eyes filled with an intensity she had never seen before. "Grab Jenson and go. You may be fine with it, but someone needs to prevent the Black Event. And I'm already a dead man."
With that, he pulled himself from her grip and began walking towards the overwhelming fury that was building in the engine room down the hall.
"TOBIAS," Camille screamed as he approached the door. "What about your family?"
Turning around, he thought about what would be best for his family. With a sorrowful look, the tears began to run down his face as he accepted his fate.
"Tell them I died doing my job."
He pressed his hand against the security console, silhouetting his body against the intermitting flashes of white and negative light before he walked into the cacophonous room. The door closing behind him ominously, leaving Camille, Jenson and the unconscious Gener alone in the hallway.
-
The room was hotter than Tobias would have believed, in spite of him knowing more about the engine than anyone else on the ship. Being the lead engineer for the Quasar Jump engine itself, he was the one given the strictest access to its secrets. He knew how it had been modified, he knew the schematics and overall tech components used to build and keep the engine working. He was the one who everyone went to when it came to making the day to day operations run smoothly. But he had never been involved in the midst of a Black Event in progress. He expected the room to be so cold, he would freeze in seconds. But it was simultaneously so hot and so cold, it was like he was wrapped in cold fire in the midst of the blaring alarms, the roaring of the engine as it was beginning to overload and the disorienting strumming flashes of light both bright white and negative.
"Gotta prep," he thought to himself, scrambling to minimize exposure to the steadily climbing levels of cosmic radiation. Pulling open a locker, he breathed a sigh of relief as one last rad suit was waiting. Quickly climbing in, he sprinted over to the magnetic harness relay by the main console. Latching it onto his suit, the ambient field travelled over his body, granting him some guarantee that if things went wrong, he would remain tethered until the final moments to give him as much time as possible to reduce the catastrophe.
As he began the shut down routines, he couldn't help but look up at the Quasar Jump engine as it screamed. The violently active twin chambers designed to create a Mobius track, the only way to create a Shayler Tunnel, the next evolution beyond the Einstein-Rosen Bridge. The ambient quarks being mass converted into hadron particles as they create a continuous loop of power, moving at just under the speed of light in order to normally punch a hole through sub-quantum reality to create a proper channel in order to minimize the disruption of space-time and slip an entire vessel safely through segments of the universe. But if the energy flow to collect the quarks needed to fuel the hadron conversion process were ever disrupted, pushed towards dangerous levels, then the entire process would begin a catastrophic system failure that resulted in either one of two outcomes.
The inexorable collision of mass and energy, thus creating enough explosive energy to create a new star dubbed a "White Event".
Or the most frightening outcome, a complete implosion of sub-quantum space, creating a massive tear in our universe. The creation of a supermassive black hole that would quickly consume several lightyears of matter and material before collapsing in on itself and a gravity well so powerful, it could shift entire portions of known space before creating a gravity bomb that could destroy at least one quadrant of a galaxy as the waves cascaded outward into further reaches of space.
This is the Black Event. This is what Tobias feared the most his entire time on this ship. And as of this moment, looking over the current worrying readings and measurements on his screens, he knew that this is what the engine was building up to unleash. An apocalyptic event so massive, it would shift the known cosmos. Accepting his fate, Tobias knew what he had to do.
He only prayed he had enough time to make sure the Black Event didn't happen.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Strapping her gun to her back, Camille moved to grab Jenson, currently crumpled on the floor.
"Come on," she told him, gently tapping his face. "Up and at'em, Jens! We gotta get moving, big guy!"
Jenson shook his head, groaning as he rubbed his dome with one of his claw hands.
"What hit me?", he asked, reaching out so the four armed redhead could help him up.
"Given the situation," she replied, pointing at the Gener agent on the floor. "He's the one who knocked you out."
"Yer dustin' me," he said, wide eyes as he looked down at who she was pointing at. "A fucking GENER AGENT?!"
Jenson couldn't believe it. He began to wonder who would send a Gener out as Enforcement. Then he noticed the insignia on the Gener's shoulder.
"Wait a minute," he said, ripping off the emblem. "An Investigator? There's only one reason dey send Investigators out, Cammi! Why were they-"
"They were looking for saboteurs," she told him. "Specifically, Tobias."
"Tobias?", he said, unable to process what she was telling him. "Nuh uh! No way in HELL! Tobias is a good man! He ain't the kind to-"
Suddenly, his memory caught up. His eyestalks swinging towards the engine room door.
"THE ENGINE! It's revving to blow! We gotta-"
Camille, however didn't say a word as she grabbed her friend to drag him towards the elevator.
"No time," she shouted, hurryingly. "Tobias is in there! He told us to go, so we gotta go! NOW!"
The Crabman Stitcher, however, was having none of it as he pulled his arm out of her grip.
"I ain't leavin' my friend to die," he shouted back, moving towards the door. But when he heard the sound of a gun being cocked, he stopped moving. Slowly raising his arms, he knew what was going down.
"Is dat how it's gonna be, Cammi?"
Carefully turning, he saw the large red gun she currently had aimed at her friend. The four square chambers lit up by the glowing blue barrels in each slot. An energy weapon he had never seen before in his life.
"Cammi, there's something you ain't telling me, is there? That's not Corporate issued, or else I'd a known."
Frustration and anguish was etched on her face as the built engineer stood her ground.
"This is non-lethal," she said, on the verge of tears. "So please, as my friend? Let's just do what Tobias wanted us to do, and get off this fucking metal casket before we all die!"
"Cammi..."
Lowering her gun, there was a brief pause as every conflicting emotion washed over her. And in one primal scream, she kicked a nearby waste disposal bin with all of her might. Sending it tumbling end over end as she spun in place before sinking to her knees. Crying out every bit of pain in her heart as she could.
"It's not FAIR," she sobbed. "I don't want to lose you, too! Tobias wants us to- to..."
Jenson quickly moved to hug his fellow engineer as tightly as he could. Rocking her back and forth, trying to soothe her worries.
"It's okay," he whispered. "If it's what Tobias wants, then let's go. But you're gonna explain what the Hell's goin' on, alright?"
Camille gently nodded her head as she put her arms around Jenson tightly.
"...Y-yeah, okay. But only when we're off the ship."
Helping her to her feet, Jenson's eyestalks turned towards the unconscious Gener once more.
"What're we gonna do wit him", he asked. "Are we just gonna leave biggun here ta get dusted?"
Wiping her eyes, Camille looked up at Jenson, trying to gauge if he was being sincere or not.
"Do you really want to take him with us?", she asked, strapping her gun once more to her back.
"Ya know it ain't right ta leave a man ta die," Jenson said, carefully shuffling over beside the lowed Gener. "Besides, ya know da protocol. Can't leave any personnel on da ship. Let alone a Corporate man."
Moving to the other side of the massive man on the floor, Camille strapped the gun to her back once more and joined the crabman in gently picking him up. Taking their collective strength to handle his dead weight as he occasionally spasmed.
"Fucking heavy," Camille said, spinning them all towards the far elevator.
"He'd-a been lighter if you DIDN'T lay him out," Jenson groaned as they began carrying the agent down the hallway. "What kinda gun IS dat, anyway? I never seen- NGH! ANY kinda non-lethal work on a Gener!"
"Synaptic Static gun," the four armed stitcher grunted as they stomped along the hall. "Designed to- URGH! Overload the senses, like a small seizure! A prototype"
Slamming her palm against the pad, the elevator doors opened for the pair and their unconscious companion. Scrambling in, they breathed a slight sigh of relief as Jenson hit the emergency button to take them to the escape ships.
"Whoever made it," Jenson said, looking straight at Camille. "Dey got a bone to pick wit the Corps, don't they?"
"Yeah," Camille replied, glumly. "My employers really do."
The doors closed and the lift began its descent to level eleven, where the hangers resided. Their minds turned towards Tobias, and the fact that they had abandoned their friend to his doom.
For a split second, in the hallway filled with warning lights and blaring klaxon tones, a chaotic serenity filled the level. Devoid of life and other sounds, an odd variation of active stillness took hold.
But such stillness could not last, as the torn flesh of a clawed hand outfitted with metal lacing came into view from within the All-Hands Tunnel as it swung up and out towards the floor. The sound of metal giving way as it was punctured. And the pissed off growl of someone who was no longer concerned with doing her job, but instead focused on what she was going to do to the next person she saw.
__________________________________________________________________________
As the light inside the chamber of the Mobius track proceeded to intensify, Tobias smiled to himself as he continued to adjust the settings.
"If I can just divert this flow into essential capacities," he said to himself. "Maybe into life support or mass conversion units in the lower levels, then I'll be able to shunt it into weapons or the regular engines and expel it in a non-destructive way!"
Being so focused on the engine, Tobias did not hear the sound of something falling behind him as the room roared in his ears and the floor rumbled beneath his feet. As he watched the variables steadily decline, elation grew within him.
"I DID IT! I CAN'T BELIEVE I-"
His joy was cut short as something pounced on him, slamming his face into the console and causing him to mash upon the virtual keys. Causing every calculation he was working on to go out the window as every meter began to skyrocket. As he looked at the screen, he saw the field slowly vanish. Removing the one thing that would give him the most time.
"No," he screamed as he struggled to stand up. "NO! NO NO NO!!!"
"Aw," he heard Amarie say to him, mocking him as she held him bent over in front of herself. "Did Bee make a boo boo?"
"You bitch," he cried out. "I was trying to SAVE everyone! And you just guaranteed their deaths!"
Flipping him around, Amarie looked down at her former lover with a cold smile. Enjoying the look of pure panic and terror in his eyes as she brought a claw to his face once more.
"Do you think I care?", she asked him, licking her claw. Showing Tobias the torn flesh that hid a servo laced endoskeleton and enhancer mesh interwoven through bones and muscles and sinew in her hand.
"Torque enhance-"
Swiping her claws lightly across his suit, Tobias cried out in shock and pain as the suit was quickly torn open and the right side of his neck began to bleed, cutting off his question.
"You know I loved you," Amarie said, licking his neck to savor the blood seeping from his wound. "But when you get called to be an Agent, you must abandon your old life. I would have loved to be your wife, but you're just a pitiful saboteur."
Raising her claw into the air, an evil look gleamed in her eyes as she stared down at her ex.
"Now please, do make a lot of noise. I find that to be one of my favorite things about this job!"
Raising his hands in a panic, Tobias looked away as he tried to shield himself.
"Wait, wait, WAIT!"
For a split second the room went silent, drawing the attention of the former lovers. Amarie stood still, her eyes gauging what was going on. But Tobias knew what was about to happen. He quickly reached for the magnetic harness on his belt, slapping it as hard as he could as the Mobius track went ultraviolet before an explosion of negative light burst out from the heart of the engine's chamber as the hadron particles collided with each other. Having absorbed enough energy to have grown weighted enough to cause a small tear from their point of impact.
"What just happened?", Amarie demanded, standing still as worry ate away at her.
"WHAT I WAS TRYING TO PREVENT," Tobias screamed at her as he resumed his duty. "You just fucking killed potentially MILLIONS by trying to kill me instead of letting me stop a fucking TEAR IN REALITY!"
The feline stitcher could say nothing as the full weight of what she had just done hit her all at once. She now understood why Tobias had been begging her to let him go. He was the Lead Engineer for this engine. It was his job to make sure that the engine ran smoothly. She knew that if it worried Tobias so badly, then it was soemthing that was truly worth the concern. And in her hubris, she had just doomed the profit shares of several worlds.
"Is there anything I can do?", she asked.
"No," Tobias flalty told her, with a look of pain and desperation in his eyes. "Just... let me do my job."
Fighting back tears, Tobias was as efficient as possible as he worked out the variables. He knew the amount of energy needed to overload the tear in space and fill it in with enough matter would have to be astronomical. By his best guess, the ship might tear itself apart before he could-
The sound of something creaking pulled him out of his thoughts as he looked at the chamber once more. He noticed it right away. The thin little splinter in the walls of the chamber.
"Amarie," he said. "Get a fucking harness on before-"
His voice fell short as the sound of the chamber wall began to sunder struck him cold. Both watched as the cracks quickly raced along the translucent titanium walls, filling out into a starburst shape before imploding inwards. A great vacuum unleashed from within the chamber, hungrily seeking to claim as much as it could to grow.
"TOBIAS!"
Turning to look, he could see Amarie struggling to resist the pull. Her blue and white Agent's uniform pulling open as the buttons on her jacket were pulled out of the cloth. Reaching his hand towards hers, he tried to inch closer to her.
"Take my hand," he shouted. "I can try and pull you to the magnetic harnesses!"
Agent Dryler reached out with her left hand, trying to keep her arm as straight as possible while she tensed herself. Terror in her eyes as she fought to reach out to the last person who loved her. The last person she loved before her training began. Her mind flashing to the happiness she felt with him before her career liquidating troubling assets and routing saboteurs and competitors in the name of the Seven Corporations Of Man. Her tears pulling away from her eyes as they were sucked into the void within the engine.
"Tobias," she cried out over the howling sound of the miniscule black hole. "I'm sorry. For leaving you."
"We can talk later," he begged her, straining to grasp her. "Just grab my hand!"
"I was told to abandon you," she sobbed. "They said having a past would compromise my value. And I hurt you. Just like I hurt you today."
Tobias' fingertips danced across hers as he continued to inch closer.
"I forgive you," he shouted. "Now please! TAKE MY HAND!"
As their fingers began to hook around each other, Amarie's other hand, bloody and skinless, slipped across the metal safety bar she was pushing against. Her body juked forward, causing her footing to slip as she was pulled over the railing and towards the now opened Mobius track. Her arms flailing as her scream was swallowed by the void. Calling out for Tobias as she tried to swim against the vacuum. Tobias watched as her body began to stretch and thin, putting Amarie into an incalculable amount of suffering as the black hole spaghettify her matter. Her eyes wide, her face a mask of agony and horror as flesh and metal and bone was pulled more and more taut. A nightmarish existence of suffering and terror as her vision of Tobias, horrified by what was happening to her, narrowed more and more until all she saw was a single point of light into the distance... and then, nothingness.
Sinking to his knees, Tobias wailed and screamed as the last of Amarie's essence was sucked into the void. His tears stung his eyes as he shouted everything out of him before rising to his feet once more. Brokenhearted, he went to work once more. He knew that the engine was beyond the threshold. An Event was guaranteed, at this point. But which one, was the real question. As he looked at the engine for answers, he noticed that the tear wasn't growing in size. In all honesty, it had yet to consume enough material to warrant more growth. At that moment, Tobias knew what his answer was.
He needed to overwhelm the black hole and cause a White Event. Instead of a tear in space, he'd create a new star.
Restarting the engine, he was assaulted by untold amounts of radiation. The searing pain was great, but the father of two had to do all he could. Putting the engine into overdrive, he could feel himself cooking as he activated the engines. Watching the meter rise, he knew he only had a few seconds before the tear would cross the point of no return and consume the engine entirely. Cranking the energy outputs as high as possible, he counted down the seconds as the engine screamed.
"Forty seconds."
The chamber glowed brightly, filling the room and highlighting the black hole.
"30 seconds."
He turned on the Quasar Jump Engine guidance system, pushing the computer to find enough empty space.
"20 seconds."
A notification appeared on screen: a patch of normally empty space had been found, several thousand lightyears away in the outer known reaches. A quadrant that had yet to be explored, with one habitable world that was far away enough to not worry about the impending explosion of brilliance and energy.
"15 seconds."
His hands were a blur as he finalized the coordinates before looking at the readings for the engine.
MAXIMUM OUTPUT, it read.
"10 seconds," he said, slamming his hand into the console to activate the Jump Engine.
_________________________________________________________________________
Outside the ship, on one of the mmany escape shuttles trying to escape proximity, Camille was looking outside the port side window. Her brow was furrowed as she looked back at The Stelladonna, her home of several years.
"Tobias...," she quietly mourned, wiping a tear from her eye.
"You said it's what he wanted," Jenson said, leaving Agent Lomanz to sleep on a cot that could barely contain his weight. "That he was a dead man?"
"Yeah," Camille said, sighing powerless against the wishes of her friend.
"And this whole sabotage business," Jenson continued, asking. "Da two a you were involved, though neither a ya knew?"
Camille raised one of her left hands to her lips, shushing her Stitcher friend as she pointed to the unconscious Gener laying nearby with the other.
"Yes," she told him before noticing the glow quickly surrounding the Stelladonna. Jenson looked out the window, noticing that same glow before running for the comms.
"All ships," Jenson shouted over the comms on the open communications line. "Quasar Jump active! Brace for turbulence!"
A cascade of pressure, visible to the naked eye, roiled out as the ship glowed and blinked out of existence in a brilliant white burst. Violently rocking the escape shuttles, sending some into spirals that they quickly leveled out from. Within their own vessel, the two Stitchers were pulled this way and that, holding on for dear life as the Gener passenger was thrown to the floor, none the worse for wear. Once the ship had settled, they looked at each other in disbelief.
"Did Toby REALLY...?!", Jenson asked, trailing off as he looked out the window once more.
Camille just nodded her head as she looked back at where the Stelladonna once was.
"Farewell, Tobias."
__________________________________________________________________________
Once the ship had moved into the slip between points of reality, Tobias' vision was filled with stars that glowed in negative. Even if he tried to close his eyes, the glow of subreality overwhelmed his senses. The tear glowing a bright purple as the engine glowed blue, the hadron particles a bright green as they moved in a perfect figure eight while the black hole slowly grew bigger with the energy being fed into it.
"Nine seconds," he said to himself, nearly losing himself to the splendor as the ship returned to regular space. Without fail, he began to adjust the levels of output needed in order to collapse the tear. And for that, he needed one thing.
"Five."
He took a deep breath as he cranked the hadron conversion process into overdrive, collecting as much as it could to feed into the Mobius track.
"Four."
He could see his suit beginning to burning. He could his neck blister and swell, the small tear allowing in the ambient radiation. His hand slammed into the console once more, activating the final sequence.
"Th-three!"
His blood began to boil as he pushed the engine into overload once more. Watching as the machine grew bright, then the world went dark.
"TWO!"
He screamed as he felt his eyes explode. His flesh catching fire. His muscles crumbling as steam escaped from wherever it could. His mind turned to his family, and his wish to see them once more.
"ONE!"
In an instant, his entire body vaporized as every particle the engine had collected collided into each other in the center of the track. The force of the nuclear fusion enough to create a mini-Big Bang Event that overloaded and consumed the tear in reality as a brilliant ball of light quickly exploded out of the ship. Level by level, metal and plastic and more were vaporized, as well. All fuel for the growing orb of nuclear fusion that grew brighter as it grew larger. And within seconds, The Stelladonna ceased to be and a new Giant was born in the vast emptiness of the area of space the ship left subspace for.
__________________________________________________________________________
Several weeks later, on Toljara 238, a world known for Corporate freedoms granted by the Charter, a lone CEO was waiting inside their office. Overseeing the city by the sea, they smiled as they sensed someone approaching their door.
"Come in," she told them before they could even knock. As the door opened, a doll like Torque led Camille into the sparsely decorated office.
"Your afternoon appointment," the secretary said, bowing her head before quickly exiting the room.
"Ms. Tosana," the CEO said. "I'm glad to see you made it back. How was Tobias' funeral?"
The four armed stitcher sighed heavily as she walked forward. The black and pink sand crunching underneath her feet.
"It was... hard," she told her boss. "Tobias was a good man. His family took things very hard."
"He had no other choice," the CEO replied. "The Corporations made sure of that."
Camille watched as a blue and gold tentacle undulated towards a nearby bowl full of a weird type of fat grey and yellow slugs. She kept her eye on it as the tentacle scooped one out, bringing it around behind the chair before a shrill squeak and the sound of something wet and chewy being gnashed between teeth filled her ears. Camille closed her eyes and tilted her head, trying to not be perturbed by the preferred delights of the delicacies of her boss's people.
"I have to know," Camille asked, shuddering slightly. "Why did you keep me in the dark about Toby?"
The CEO once again scooped out another slug and quickly devoured it, as well.
"Need to know," she told the Stitcher. "But I can sense you need to know more. So I'll be honest with you. He was part of an experiment."
"An experiment?", Camille asked, shuffling as her boots sunk into the sand some more.
"I know you've been briefed about Geners, so this will make it easier to explain. The K'nzaric race was in decline before Tekalmor found one of them hibernating. Recent negotiations have given us the info we needed in order to help them repopulate their species."
"Repopulate," Camille said, realizing where her boss was going. "So, you mean to tell me you were going to... what, turn humans INTO K'nzarics?!"
"Tekalmor was already doing that," the CEO said, scooping out another slug. "What we did was make sure that any potential children of any Geners that came across the children of our test subjects would be viable."
Camille's eyes lit up as she grasped the full scope of what she was being told.
"So... you did something to the children of the test subjects, ensuring that the K'nzarics wouldn't go extinct?"
"As long as the two children meet," the CEO said, eating another slug.
"Is there something you're not telling me,", Camille asked, suddenly serious. "Especially about Tobias' children?"
The CEO wagged her tentacle.
"No, Ms. Tosana! Let's just say there's something about Tobias' boys that just have my attention. Let's just call it "a vested interest" and leave it at that."
The door opened once more as the doll like secretary came back into the room.
"The family will be well taken care of," the CEO told Camille. "Although one thing that must remain purely confidential between us is that Tobias' boys will notice some interesting effects as they grow. Certain cognitive or physical aspects will be much more improved than others like them. Even I don't know how far along, but it's enough to keep an eye on them."
"Ms. Tosana," the secretary said. "Your office is ready for inspection."
Camille shot one more worried look at the CEO before turning towards the door.
"I want to be put in charge of the oversight for Rico and Marco," Camille told her boss.
"You may," the CEO continued. "Now, take all the time you need to settle in. And Ms. Tosana?"
The strong Stitcher paused in the doorway, turning to look at the CEO once more.
"Welcome to the Executive levels of Avajji Industries."
Camille nodded her head, smiling.
"Thank you, Madame Xyn'qhp."
With that, she was led out of the office, leaving the Avajjin Executive to think on the visions she had of Tobias' sons and their fates. An aura of satisfaction emanating from where she sat as she raised her tentacles into the air and meditated on Marco's future.
-
Nice! I was wondering why there was a sudden left turn in the story but now it makes sense. K++
-
As I stood there, ready to throw down and meet my end, I looked around the room as the tension mounted. Chalansky was scrambling, panicking as things were slipping from his grasp. His guards, each pointing their rifles at me, stood silent as the energy chambers of their weapons pulsed and flashed. Brandy continued to hammer away at her cell, causing it to crack and splinter more and more as she called out my name in a mad desperation to get to me. And me, unusually calm as I waited to make the right move, the tingle in my brain that I've strangely felt in my brain my whole life slowly growing stronger.
"DON'T JUST STAND THERE," Chalansky screamed at his personal guard. "FUCKING KILL HIM! IN THE NAME OF THE LEDGER!"
I heard the short whine of a rifle come from the guard to my right. My eyes turned as the barrel lit up, ready to discharge a plasma bolt my way. But as soon as I saw it them fire at me, something happened. It was like everything slowed down. Not in the adrenaline sort of way, either. I could literally see and feel everything moving far slower than it should. The brilliant white burst of light inched forward, aimed directly at me. I looked at it, then back at the guard, unable to process what I was seeing. I initially wondered if something was slowing them down. But as I looked around, I realized they hadn't slowed down.
I had SPED UP.
I laughed to myself as I moved out of the way of the bolt, letting it slowly move past me before going back to where I was standing as the tingle in my brain let up. I watched as things seemed to go back to normal, hearing the sound of intense heat strike the guard to my left as the smell of burnt flesh and cloth assailed us all.
With a smile, I raised my fists once more. I knew the guards and various scientists were left baffled by what I just did. To be honest, I have no clue how I did it, either. But one look at Chalansky, the look of terror on his face and the fact he visibly had pissed himself in fear on his pants? That was all I needed to know.
Suddenly, we heard a scream from one of the scientists. Drawing our attention back towards the captive Geners.
"Their eyes," she screamed. "Their mouths!"
We were all held by the sight before us. One by one, they each called out in multi-tonal chimes and frequencies, nearly impossible to replicate. And as one, they began to free themselves from their prison. A legion of fifty foot tall stone beings, marching as one. Their eyes and mouths aglow in kaleidoscopic spectrums, lit with hues that should not be visible to the naked eye. Bluish stony carapace atop powerful frames. Each collective step enough to shake the entire facility. The one who had been staring at me, judging me, urging me to rise bent down to grab the front of Brandy's cell. And with one smooth motion, gently ripped it in half. Her eyes locking on to me as she was released.
"MARCO!!!"
It was at this point that the entire lab fell into chaos.
The guards turned away from me, aiming their rifles on the fully transformed Second Geners. Firing away in order to halt their march, only for their blasts to harmless hit carapace. Scientists, in a blind terror, scrambled back and forth. Some not watching where they were going before finding themselves underfoot and being crushed like bugs. Brandy, meanwhile, quickly ran towards me. Picking me up in her arms as she dove between Chalansky's soldiers. Rolling off to the side as she let the carnage take its toll.
"I thought I'd lost you," she cried, holding me tight. "The Galger Beast, then Tekalmor-"
It's at that point I kissed her. Nothing needed to be said. It felt right to be there, in her arms. Like I belonged there. Let the world be torn away. I want to stay with my girl.
"You know it'll take far more than a nearly omnipotent company to kill me," I said, breaking the kiss.
We turned towards the Second Geners as they created absolute mayhem for Tekalmor's on-hand staff. But out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that more guards had arrived. And several were extricating Chalansky to freedom.
"Brandy," I shouted, pointing. "Chalansky's escaping!"
Suddenly, a giant foot came down on top of guards that had initially surrounded me. I followed it to the face of its owner, the one who had judged me. His face was still before slowly turning into a smile.
"GO," a deep and powerful voice in our heads told us. "HELP IS COMING. DO NOT WORRY, SISTER AND COMPANION. WE WILL SURVIVE."
He dragged his foot out of our way, smearing the remains of the guards he had smashed in order to clear a path for us. Getting to her feet, Brandy held me in her arms. She smiled at me, determined to do what was needed to survive on her face.
"Hold on tight," she told me. I didn't need any prompting, wrapping my arms around her thick neck as she took off. Running at full speed across the lab and towards the hallway. Even with their head start, Brandy's long, powerful legs made incredibly short work of the journey. Leading us to an industrial elevator, where Chalansky and his entire unit of guards were waiting for his path to freedom to open.
"CHALANSKY," I screamed as we approached, Brandy putting me down as she slowed down. "We're not done, here! I told you my girlfriend and I would like a fucking word with you!"
Chalansky began to laugh and clap, catching us off-guard.
"Congratulations," he said, snidely. "The Companion has finally been revealed!"
Brandy and I just looked at each other, not know what the Hell he was talking about. But I found it extremely odd that both he and the Second Gener had called me that.
"What the fuck are you talking about?", I asked.
"Don't play coy," he replied. "We've had the intel on this litle project for a couple YEARS, now! We know about the revival project to keep the so-called 'K'nzaric People" alive!"
When he saw the confused looks on our faces, his mood had soured.
"You mean they never told you?"
"We don't know who 'they' are," Brandy replied.
Chalansky, never even entertaining the possibility, suddenly and boisterously began to laugh like a madman.
"I'm sorry, but that's so fitting! We made her, but no one knows who made YOU, Marco!"
I took a step forward, causing every guard between us and Chalansky to reflexively raise their weapons.
"Made me? But I'm a NAT! I've always BEEN a Nat! Now you're saying I'm, what... a Stitcher or something?"
"Mr. Mercado," Chalansky said, sucking air in through his teeth as he seemed to enjoy this whole situation far more than I thought he would. "You ARE a Nat! But it took us months to figure out what was so special about you! Why you, in particular?"
I laughed at what he was saying.
"Months? I've only been here a few weeks."
Chalansky just shook his head.
"Mr. Mercado, you've been on-site in a tech-induced coma for almost three months!"
I felt my gut drop. I looked back at Brandy, finally realizing that her hair had indeed gotten longer. Her skin across her chest had a very slight bluish tint to it. That she had indeed gotten taller. I was just so caught off kilter than I hadn't properly noticed it.
"No..."
"YES," the mad exec said. "And those three months gave us ample time to find that teeny tiny, itty bitty little piece of genetic coding inside your DNA. Hidden deep within the junk parts of your genomes. And what we found was something that shouldn't have been possible: a symbiotic gene! You, Marco! You represent the pinnacle of our theory! You represent The Genetic Key!"
"Elevator open," a synthetic voice called out.
"Now if you'll excuse me," the fanatical C.O.O. said as he straightened his tie. "I have a ship to ca-AGHK!"
As soon as he turned to make his exit, a giant hand shot out and wrapped around his throat. Lifting him off the ground, the being who held him in the air walked out of the elevator. As soon as we saw who it was, Brandy immediately broke into tears.
"DAD!"
I felt intense relief as Braden walked forward, accompanied by tall and built young woman with short purple hair and four arms that each held a pistol, and an Asian woman strapped into what looked like a Torque Tech enhancer exo-suit that was retrofitted with multiple arms and hooked up through her own metallic arms and neural interface.
"You're coming with us," Braden told Chalansky. "Now tell your clones to stand the fuck down, or I'll dust you here and now!"
-
Great to see more. Keep up the great work.
-
Nice Update! The detail in this story is great!
-
Again a great chapter. So I hope for more.
-
Great work. This story has been very good so far.
-
Without hesitation, Brandy quickly pushed her way through the troops standing between her and her father. Each teched out trooper thrown on their asses as she ran towards Braden's side wrapping her arms around him as she bawled her eyes out. Blockbuster, for his part, getting embarrassed due to his daughter's obvious nakedness. I could only follow behind her in her slipstream, joining everyone by the elevator.
"Daddy," Brandy cried, showing us all a dichotomy between the behemoth she had become so far and the heartbroken child that inadvertently triggered her transformation. Her father just gently started stroking her hair with his free hand, trying to contain his emotions enough to remain focused.
"You've grown a bit, my little star..."
Like any asshole does, Chalansky had to open his hole and ruin the moment.
"I see you turned Rival," he chuckled. "And after everything we gave you, too."
I just walked up to him, reached into his pockets as he meekly protested and pulled out what I could.
"Stop being a shit beast," I told him, elbowing him in the side for emphasis. As Chalansky whined like a petulant child, I went through what he had on him. A pack of Xando Joy Bubbles Gum, a Yizathum Cred Card, a self cleaning prophylactic which I immediately dropped with a disgusted look and a screen I had never seen before.
"What the fuck is this?", I asked, holding it up. The torque in the exo-enhancement suit's eyes lit up.
"Is that a Shay 27?!", they asked, delicately taking it out of my hands with one of their mechanical limbs before tossing it to the Stitcher with four arms, catching it as she holstered her pistols.
"I think it is!", the Stitcher exclaimed, quickly swiping the screen to activate it only to see it was code locked. "Damn it!"
She quickly walked over, grabbing Chalansky's collar and pulling Braden's arm down so he was looking at her in the eye.
"Give us the code, zealot!"
The fanatical C.O.O. just laughed like a madman at her bravado.
"You're not worthy of the Sacred Scribes, you low income consumer!"
"Now, now. That's no way to talk to the daughter of one of my executives, zealot..."
We all looked around, trying to see where that voice was coming from. But the two ladies that had joined Braden were unfazed.
"What the fuck was that?", Chalansky shouted, clearly starting to panic before he started to realize something. "No! It can't be...!"
"Silly little child that thinks himself a priest," the voice continued. "Did you really think you'd be uncontested, unfettered by the responsibilities of that which you were tampering with? My clients will not be pleased what you are doing with their descendants."
"Descendants?", Brandy asked. "You mean the Geners?"
"Come," the voice told us. "Do not dawdle. You and The Companion have an appointment to keep elsewhere. That is all I can say."
"That's the THIRD TIME I've been called that," I growled. "I want ANSWERS!"
But I was left wanting as whoever that was left us in that blaring hallway.
"Th-That was an Alvajjin," Chalansky asked the Stitcher, on the border between fear and excitement at what just transpired. "Wasn't it? I had only read rumors in the Sacred Scribe Logs in the Records!"
"Alvajjin?" Brandy asked, turning towards the Stitcher. "And she said I was a... descendant or something?"
"We both are," Braden told her, a dark look on his face. "The genetics Tekalmor stole was from a being belonging to a race called the K'nzarics. It seems that when they stole its body for study and experimentation, other K'nzarics sought the help of a guardian species called the Alvajjin. They used their abilities and resources to keep an eye on the Second Geners that exhibited K'nzaric traits. It was why we were able to find you."
Braden's explanation left me at a loss. My mind kept sputtering to ask questions, but the implications just kept making me lose the ability to complete any of'em. There were MULTIPLE species of aliens? They had their OWN companies? Guardian species? Finally, I couldn't hold back any longer.
"WHAT IN THE FUCK IS GOING ON," I shouted. "AND WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO WITH ALL OF THIS?"
The torque in the exo-suit gently put their mechanical extension's hands on our shoulders and proceeded to guide us towards the elevator.
"A little late on that one," they said. "You'll get answers when we deliver you. We gotta go. NOW."
"I don't even know your names," I shouted back.
The Stitcher ran a hand through her hair and gave me a cocky smile as she quickly strut into the elevator.
"I'm Casey," she said, pointing at herself then her compatriot. "They're Ana. Now, you heard them! We're getting off this rock!"
Chalansky's head swiveled fast as he looked at all of us with a desperate fervor I had never seen before. Kicking and fighting to free himself from Braden's grasp.
"NO," he screamed. "LET ME GO! I AM AN EXECUTIVE OF THE SEVEN CORPORATIONS! AND I ORDER YOU-"
Braden, however, was having none of Chalansky's tantrum. With a quick shake, he shook the nebula sized asshole back and forth. Bouncing him around like a ragdoll to show off that he meant business. Causing the C.O.O. to go limp in a slight daze.
"For the figures," he mumbled, looking like he was about to throw up.
"If you're done playing around," Ava said, moving into the elevator. "We've got places to go!"
"You heard them," Casey said, grabbing mine and Brandy's hands to drag us along. "We've got a ship waiting for us on the surface! Let's move!"
As Casey pulled us into the elevator, Ava handed Brandy a gym bag.
"Put these on," they told her. "They're fitted for your current size. Madame Xyn'qhp made sure of that."
Delicately opening the bag, Brandy began to get dressed as Braden backed into the crowded lift as he held Chalansky in front of him like a shield. Keeping his eye on the Tekalmor soldiers as he pressed the button to take us all to the surface. Once the doors were closed and we were on our way, Blockbuster put him down. Rubbing his neck, the executive straightened his hair and shot us all a death glare.
"You won't- GHN! You won't get away with this, Bustamante! I'll make sure of that!"
"Big words from a little man," Ava said, leaning down close.
"Ease up," Casey said, putting her hands on the shoulder servos of the exo-suit. "We're to bring him in one piece. Mom's orders."
I perked up at her comment.
"Your mom's whoever did that weird shit in the hallway?", I asked.
Casey rolled her eyes as she pulled out a screen.
"My mom's an executive," she said, tapping on the Shay 17 she had produced. "About twenty years now. Human like you and me."
Her screen lit up, showing me an old photo of a four armed woman much like Casey, a giant stitcher with Crab-like features and one more person that took my breath away.
"Holy shit," I muttered, on the verge of tears. "Is that... Is that my dad?!"
Brandy and Braden loomed over my shoulders as they leaned in for a look, each putting their hands on my shoulders for emotional support. Just in case, I guess.
"When was this taken?", Braden asked.
With one flick of her hand, the screen switched to holograph mode. Projecting the image so that it was hovering in the air in larger size. I could feel the tears running down my face as I stared at my father, spending time with what were clearly his friends. A smile on his face as he laughed at whatever was going on.
"About a month before The Stelladonna accident," Casey said, reassuringly. "Your dad and my mom were engineers onboard when-"
"The Stelladonna suffered a critical error in one of its engines," I said. "He saved over fifty thousand people, if not an entire section of space by jumping the ship away to some unknown region before a Black Event happened."
I reached for the picture, hoping to be able to somehow slide right in. See him one last time. I lost him and my brother, nearly lost my mother to Dexivanian Flu last year which cost her a lung and part of her stomach. I heard Chalansky scoff to the side.
"Oh, BOO HOO! Just another pitiful consumer spent in the name of The Profits..."
I charged at him in the cramped elevator, grabbing at him as Braden and Brandy held me back. Casey, for her part, jumped in between us. Acting as a shield.
"Whoa," she said. "Don't touch him! He's got things to answer for at the delivery spot!"
"His people killed my father," I screamed. "And people like him got my brother killed in the Zavaran conflict! Just like they gave permission to Marvellus to kill Brandy's mother and everyone else onboard her ship!"
Casey's eyes quickly lifted up as she looked behind me. I couldn't see it, but I could definitely feel it. The interminable wellspring of rage that comes from touching an eternally raw emotional nerve. Brandy's voice was cold and full of fury as she gently pushed both me and her father aside as I felt the elevator reach our destination.
"You killed my mother?"
The look of utter terror on Chalansky's face was what we were all feeling at that moment. I felt the tremors from every blow Brandy threw inside her cell. I knew the amount of power she was able to put behind every punch. The carnage she inflicted on the Galger Beast, barehanded. A powder keg had been lit, one that was the equivalent of a Neutron Bomb, inside the elevator. Immediately, we scrambled to stop her. But with a ferocious scream I had never heard ANYONE give until that moment, she swung at where Chalansky stood.
The sound of the doors as Brandy's fist passed through them was unforgettable. The crunching squeal of metal as it gave way to pure brute force, crumpling wide before her might. The incredible amount of focus, precision and strength needed to completely overcome engineering and design as metallurgic bonds surrendered and bowed before her attack bordered on the surreal. And what made it even more frightening was that right next to her arm, white as a halogen light and having pissed himself like a toddler, stood Chalansky. Completely unharmed physically, but most likely permanently traumatized mentally.
Huh, guess I CAN string words together good. Just don't ask me to repeat myself, okay?
Reaching beyond him, Brandy quickly bent the doors further before walking through. An absolute behemoth of rage as she stared him down, reminding him that he was still human. And Brandy? It was clear she understood that she was not. At least, not entirely. I ran up to her side, putting my hand in hers as we walked.
"Brandy?"
Even though she lovingly held my hand, she wouldn't look at me. The look of anguish she was trying to hide from us, she couldn't bear it alone. I knew that much. So we walked down the hallway towards what we were sure was the hanger in silence. We heard everyone running to catch up to us, especially Ava as her exo-suit made incredibly heavy footfalls. Casey quickly sped past us, rounding a corner up ahead before popping her head back around and waving at us to pick up the pace. By the time we turned the corner, Casey was messing with a console next to a massive pair of blast doors.
"Here's the deal," she said. "I'm gonna open these. We gotta be ready, in case soldiers were somehow sent to our position. If not, it's a clear shot to our ride off-planet. Everyone ready?"
I looked up at Brandy, watching her take a deep breath as she glanced back at me. Her hand gently squeezing mine as she smiled.
"Okay," Casey said, grabbing Chalansky's head and pulling him towards a retina scanner which quickly beeped. "Follow the leader! One, two, three!"
The system whirred to life as the doors slid open. And behind them, an entire unit of soldiers, lead by a giant suit of what looked to be the mix of a tank and a robot, led them.
"RIVALS," a voice blared over the suit's speakers. "This is Corporate Affairs Captain Marcel Lomanz of the Acquisitions And Activities Control branch! You are in violation of several crimes against the Corporations, including Executive Kidnapping, Interference with Products and Personnel, Corporate Espionage and Liquidation of an Executive! Compliance is preferred!"
"Dust me," Ava muttered, clearly expressing what we were all feeling.
"Liquidation of an Executive?", Chalansky screamed as he moved forward. "But I'm perfectly-"
The suit quickly fired at Chalansky, his chest practically cratering as it struck him center mass. Bits of flesh and bone and gore exploding out from him as his body was thrown back into Casey's arms. Startling all of us with just how callow and cruel the act they had just committed was.
"On behalf of both The Charter and The Ledgers," Lomanz continued, moving forward slightly. "Do you comply?"
-
Nice update! Also you were right about Chalansky, that was a surprise!
-
Nice update! Also you were right about Chalansky, that was a surprise!
Thanks! Since the story has a heavy through-line of corporate chicanery, I figured some Robocop influence would be the way to go.
-
Okay, figured I'd let you guys know this now.
*ahem*
THERE ARE ONLY TWO OR THREE MORE INSTALLMENTS BEFORE THIS STORY IS FINISHED.
After I finish writing Blockbuster, I'll be taking all of November to turn it into a full fledged book. I know, irony by inadvertently taking part in NaNoWriMo (or National Novel Writing Month, if you want to take the long way home). I'll be shoring the story up, adding elements, switching the story to Third Person (like the Death Of Tobias Mercado section) and working to make it a bit more accessible to more mainstream audiences before I take part in December's hashtag Pit Mad (aka Pitch Madness, when people creating books pitch what their books are about to gain the attention of publishers and agents to hopefully be picked up).
So yeah, unlike most other writers who post stuff on here who just post stuff and then disappear, I wanted to give everyone a heads up on this story's progress, as is.
This started out as a short story about a regular dude meeting a genetically modified girl in the far flung future, and turned into a secretly Dystopic Space Opera about Free Will, the right to decide who one is, Nature Vs. Nurture and hinting at the insidious nature of Corporate Gentrification taken to its absolute furthest point in a rather bizarre mashup of Warhammer 40,000, Altered Carbon and Robocop and (weirdly enough) elements of Clive Barker's CABAL, of all freaking things...
Anyway, thank you for being onboard with Marco, Brandy, Braden and the rest so far. Now, back to the galaxies inside my mind and the stars that burn brightly within them to work on the ending.
-
:bravo:
-
Two or three more?.... happy to read them .
-
To all of our surprise, and possibly Casey the most, it was Ana who made the first move.
"Get to the ship!", they screamed as they pulled something off the back of their exo-suit. It shifted and modded itself as the mechanical limbs started to glow as they attached themselves to the artillery I never noticed was fixed onto their gear. And within a moment, they were holding what looked like a six-chambered cannon that was being charged by the torque's rig. Casey grabbed my arm, pulling me behind a nearby vehicle with Braden and Brandy as Ana fired on our captors. The chambers glowing a bright white before blasting a visible wall of force with a constant rolling "woob" that knocked several soldiers down as they scrambled for cover, as well. The suit, however, remained on its feet. One arm held up as it leaned into the distortion wall.
"You have chosen not to comply," Lomanz shouted over the suit's speaker. "In accordance with article twenty-three thirty-eight dash eighty-seven of the Criminality subsection of The Charter, I officially decree you guilty on all charges."
Raising his right arm, the forearm section suddenly popped open. Revealing a rather large mounted gun that began to light up.
"Ana," Casey screamed. "Take cover!"
Ana immediately ceased firing, realizing that whatever ordinance the suit was capable of was far greater than her weapon was able to provide.
"All soldiers," Lomanz ordered as he produced a similar gun from the suit's left arm, as well. "Return fire!"
As Ana dove for cover behind some military vehicles, we all tried to shrink ourselves down as a stupid amount of gunfire was unleashed on us. The sounds of metal plating either reflecting blasts or melting instantly, the debris falling from the wall and ceiling around us. the obscenely powerful blast that filled the room as every soldier on the other side of the room unleashed Hell on us. I had never been in war. If this was what war was like, it was so overwhelming. Like no part of you, body or mind, was safe from the attack. All I could do is scream from the onslaught. Brandy's arms wrapped around me as she tried to shield me from the attack. I wasn't my brother. I couldn't handle something like this. Soon, I heard the blasts begin to recede until the hangar was silent once more.
I heard Lomanz give the order to move forward, as they collectively began to push forward. Braden looked at Casey, who gave us a smirk.
"Seems we're in a bind," she said as she pressed something on her upper left bracer. "They're not letting us out, so we gotta improvise."
"What are you doing?", Brandy asked. Casey, however, was all bravado as she gave us a confident look.
"I'm improvising!"
Raising her hands, Casey quickly stood from the front of the military convoy unit we were hiding behind.
"We give up," she shouted. "Just stop firing! We comply!"
The sound of the suit stomping forward shook the concrete floor beneath us. As it moved closer towards us, I peeked around the front to get a better look at it. The whole thing must weigh several tons, given its height. The thing was close to eleven feet tall! Whoever was controlling that thing must be heavily padded to fit in a monstrosity. In fact, the thing looks like it was perfectly suited for a...
Oh shit, there must be a fucking Gener in that walking tank!
"Braden," I whispered as I ducked back. "Brandy? I think they put one of you guys in that fucking thing!"
"A Gener?", Braden asked, quickly popping his head over the hood and hiding once again.
"I thought there was a Policy that using Geners in military issues was illegal?", Brandy said, worried.
Braden put his hands on our shoulders.
"There is," he said, trying his best to comfort us. "But it's pretty evident Tekalmor doesn't care, anymore."
As the Gener in the armor strode up to her, we watched Casey put herself in harm's way.
"You have committed many offenses against the Corporations," Lomanz told her. "You have the right to legal counsel. Everything you say or do is proper media for future policies. If you do, your potential sentence will be lessened. Do you comply?"
Casey looked over her shoulder at us, giving us a wink.
"That'll be a no" she told the Gener agent.
I could practically hear the power armor's systems overclock themselves as he thought over what she had told him.
"You refuse to comply?", the agent asked. "On what grounds?"
Casey just laughed at his question, bringing her upper left bracer close to her face.
"On the grounds of... GOOD BOY PROTOCOL!"
Quickly diving to the side, Casey jumped out of the way as a hail of high energy shots punctured through the hangar bay doors. The spray of energy mowing down every agent in hiding as they were torn to pieces by the ballistics that flanked them. Even the agent in the power armor was struck several times in the back. Sparks flying as his armor was riddled full of holes before falling onto his knees and then prone. The attack stopping as soon as he was down on the ground. After a few seconds, we slowly clambered to our feet, Ana nearly causing a convoy skiff to fully tilt upwards as their exo-suit put their full weight on the damn thing.
"What the Hell just happened?", Braden asked Casey, helping her to her feet.
"That would be the Good Boy Protocol," she told us. I flinched as she said the words, but she pat me on the shoulder as she walked over to check on her partner.
"So you have someone else watching over us?", Brandy asked, looking around warily.
"Not someONE," Ana said, moving to the hanger door. "SomeTHING! Meet Captain!"
As they flung open the door, we were greeted with a combat ship hovering in the air and blinking its search lights as a storm raged around outside. As it gently landed, we could hear the sound of something barking over its loudspeakers.
"Wait," Braden called out. "Is that ship...?"
"Our ride?", Casey finished. "Yes. Is it alive? Not really. Is it an AI with the mental patterns of my childhood pet that hasn't been lobotomized like every other AI system that the Megacorporations use in order to have a steady control over how things are run in every quadrant they've got their greedy little zealot fingers in?"
Running up to the ship, she gave it a warm hug as it barked happily before turning back towards us.
"You bet your ass! Now climb in!"
Opening the cargo door, Ana quickly got onboard before waving for us.
"Let's go before who knows what wants to take a shot at us next!"
Not saying anything, I quickly jumped in before reaching back and pulling Braden on, as well. Casey simply hopped in, quickly moving towards the pilot's seat and punching in, I don't know. Coordinates or relays or something? I'm not a pilot. But Casey? She looked like she had done this a thousand times before. I used to have that same type of swagger. But after the past year, apparently? Not anymore.
"Everyone onboard?", Casey shouted. I looked over, watching Braden help Brandy get in.
"Good to go," he told the Stitcher, smiling.
"Then close the door," Ana told us. "And we'll be off world in one minute!"
As the ship began to lift off the ground, I could see the look of relief on everyone's faces as Brandy reached for the door.
"Don't forget your promise," she called out to me. "When we get to wherever they're taking us, you owe me a date!"
"Brandy," I told her. "I owe you way more than-"
A metal hand caught the door, slamming it open. Then the other joined it, grabbing Brandy by the throat as it quickly threw her out of the ship.
"You have refused to comply," Lomanz growled at us as he climbed into the ship. "For that, the penalty is Death."
-
Wanted to give an update. Currently working on the penultimate installment, but it's a bit slow going as I'm also writing a story for my SFW Patreon (A Dark Fantasy story centered on a cursed Investigator that's part of an order of mystic warriors, set during winter and inspired by equal parts The Witcher and Umberto Eco). But I should have BOTH Blockbuster installments finished before month's end.
-
No problem, No rush. Hope the other stories go as well, it sounds like an interesting read!
-
I screamed as soon as he stepped inside the ship, running at him as fast as I could and slamming my shoulder into the bastard. The armor leaned back, causing the ship to tilt and threatened to spill us out had the agent not held tight. But Braden saw an opportunity, throwing himself forward and on top of me to use our combined weight and smashed his arm into the head of our assailant. Sending all three of us plunging out of our ride and to the ground below. It was almost instinctual how Blockbuster wrapped his arm around me, turning himself so he was falling on top of Lomanz with a heavy thud as we bounced off the metal container protecting the asshole who kept coming after us and onto the landing pad. Even with about a thousand pounds of flesh and muscle to protect me, the jostle and impact carried through, causing my body to ache as I scrambled to my feet in a daze.
"Braden," I called out. "Are you okay?"
Blockbuster lifted his hand as he let out a deep groan.
"Maybe," he croaked as I grabbed his hand to help him up. "Definitely don't want to do that a third time."
I chuckled at his comment.
"A third time?"
As he stood up, I could audibly hear his back pop as he stretched. Then grabbing his head, he quickly tweaked his neck, causing that to pop, as well.
"The Delivery," he said. "The scene where I fell down a series of buildings to the streets below? Had to do that twice. Second time was the worst, but they liked the take so they went with it. It's the one Cel I made that Brandy likes the m-"
Brandy! She had been thrown from the ship! I quickly scanned the area, and saw her laying on her side. Grabbing Braden's wrist, I ran over to where she was, not moving at all in the rain. Rolling her onto her back to check on her, we quickly started checking on her. Braden checking her pulse while I put my ear to her chest. The sound of her heart was incredible, strong and steady, if a little slow. And the sound of her breathing, it was like listening to an echo chamber, but with a little harmonic frequency that played every time she took a breath. It was... well, no other way to say it. It was almost magical, multi-tonal. Like actual music.
"She's breathing," I told him. "It's like... her lungs are music. That shouldn't be possible."
"It's something the K'nzarics are known for," Braden told me. "The Alvajjins believe the K'nzarics are the keepers to the keys of life, and their influence is felt on every habitable world. That's why every world is filled with song."
"That's incredible," I mused, awestruck at the notion. Suddenly, Brandy's eyes started to flutter, opening as we looked down on her.
"Marco?", Brandy asked, confused. "Dad? Did we get to the delivery point?"
I wrapped my arms around her, crying in joy as she was okay. Her huge hand went to my back as she nuzzled into my shoulder.
"You were thrown off the ship," Braden told her. "The metal prick tried to board us, so Marco and I pushed him out and here we are."
A burst of air blasted us from above as searchlights shone from on high. Looking up, we watched as Ana climbed out of the ship as their tendrils carried them down to join us below.
"Is everyone okay?", they asked us, shouting over the sound of the engines.
"I think so," Brandy replied, climbing to her feet. "But we gotta hurry. I don't know if he's-"
The sound of an explosion as the lights from above flickering caused us all to flinch as our ride began to sway from side to side.
"OUR STABILIZER," Casey shouted over the ship's P.A. "THAT FUCKER HIT OUR-"
The ship lurched to one side, falling to the landing pad with a sickening squeal as metal scraped across concrete. Smoke and sparks firing off from one side as our four armed pilot climbed out of her vessel. And striding towards us from the other side of the ship was the agent as he began to undo the latches on his suit of armor.
"I have to admit," he said. "You're just as much a problem as your father."
Taking his helmet off, we saw his face, scarred beyond recognition as he threw it aside. With each peal of thunder and burst of lightning, his gruesome visage was illuminated. One eyelid dropping down from three ragged claw marks that crossed his face. Part of his lips were gone, his broken and off color teeth showing through the hole. His nose was partially collapsed, one nostril flattened and sealed shut. A walking monstrosity, staring us down as he stalked us.
"I've done nothing to you," Braden shouted as he put himself between us and the inhuman instrument of corporate interest.
"I wasn't talking about your daughter," the agent shouted back. "I was talking to HIM!"
I froze as he pointed directly at me, his eyes filled with absolute hate.
"You knew my father?", I asked.
The agent's steps grew quicker as he made his way, the concrete caving with every footfall. I could see his hands clenching and unclenching continuously. I knew with complete certainty that he was itching for a fight.
"He is the reason I look like this now! He was why I was shuffled off to handle sensitive matters! Why I'm now strapped in this armor every single moment of my life! Why I lost my best friend! Him and that damned four armed bitch's pro mother!"
Lomanz broke into a full sprint, screaming at the top of his lungs as he lunged at us. But Braden was ready for him. As soon as he was within distance, Blockbuster got to work. A battle of two giants, playing out on the pad as the storm picked up speed. Fists flew as both men swung on each other. The Agent using dirtier tactics versus Blockbuster's training. Both fighters savaging the other as Brandy and I watched on. Lomanz going for Braden's eyes, leading to Braden throwing him over his shoulder. A low blow on Braden, sending Blockbuster to his knees as Lomanz got to his feet and smashing his knee into the megastar's head. The monstrous Gener swinging his metal fist at Braden's head, looking to kill but finding only air as Braden pulled his legs out from under him and sending him to the ground like a stone before Blockbuster began to grapple him as he wrapped his legs around the Agent's arm as he pulled. But a look of shock quickly grew across his face as the Gener Agent somehow began to pull Braden upward, curling his entire weight from a prone position before socking him square in the face. The blow landing with a massive peal of thunder that shook everything within the storm.
"For your crimes... against The Corporations Of Man," Lomanz panted, opening up a console on the arm of his power armor and typing something into it. "I sentence you, your daughter, that bastard's son, THIS WHOLE PLANET! I sentence all of you to the penalty of Death by Dusting!"
Sirens blared, releasing an alarm I had never heard before. Red lights began to flash, adding an intimidating glint to the falling rain and tempestuous weather. Then came a feminine voice over the system with an announcement that scared me deep.
"WARNING! WARNING! PLANET HAS BEEN DESIGNATED FOR DUSTING! FIVE MINUTES FOR EVACUATION! WARNING WARNING! TEN MINUTES BEFORE COMPLETE CORE DESTRUCTION! EVACUATE THE PLANET IMMEDIATELY!"
"Evacuate the planet?!", I loudly asked.
"Do you know what "dusting" actually is?," Ana asked me.
"I thought it was just a way to say 'fuck'," I shouted back.
"It's a Final Notice policy," Casey screamed, panicking. ""If a conflict or issue that can't be resolved normally arises, then they take out whatever footing the issue has. Dusting doesn't mean killing. It's old Corporate speak for SCORCHED EARTH! THEY'RE TAKING OUT THE PLANET!!"
"What can we do?!", Brandy shouted. But before anyone could answer, Lomanz was on us again.
"YOU CAN DIE, YOU PATHETIC CONSUMER SCUM!"
With a great swing, Lomanz attacked Brandy who barely had enough time to put her arms together to shield herself. But despite her reflexes, she was thrown onto her back as the Gener Agent reached for me.
"C'mere, Rival spawn!"
I raised my fists to put up a fight, but as he got near, a mechanical tendril cut across my view as it wrapped around the ugly bastard's arm.
"Don't you dare touch them," Ana shouted as their exo-suit went into action, coiling around and tangling his power armor as they rushed forward. Pushing him away as I ran to help Brandy back up to her feet.
"Hits hard," she mumbled, rubbing her jaw.
"It's the armor," Casey shouted as she opened a panel on the side of her ship. "It's amplifying his torques! Ana's buying us time, so lend me a hand with this back-up stabilizer!"
Brandy and I ran over to the ship as Casey pulled out a long metal case, dropping it to the ground and kicking it open to reveal a long oblong engine part.
"You said he's been torqued?", I asked her, looking back as Ana began throwing kicks and punches at Lomanz as he struggled to escape their suit's tentacles.
"From the way she went down," Casey replied, mimicking a punch to the jaw. "He has to be! Gener's are strong, but from what Madame Xyn'qhp told us, Second Gener's are closer to a K'nzaric than their parents are! Brandy, help me by carrying this thing to the other side!"
Brandy gave a quick "Gotcha" before picking the whole part up like it was nothing as they ran around to begin repairs. Meanwhile, I watched as Ana kept giving the Agent everything they had.
"Go down, you fucking asshole!"
As Ana threw fists and feet, the agent was clearly getting frustrated. Every time he thought he had a good hold on one mechanical tentacle, two more quickly wrenched it away in a swirling assault of metal and leather.
"Not... a CHANCE!", he screamed.
Without warning, the Gener twisted his body, spinning on his heels as Ana tried to go behind him and grabbing them by the throat. Then with a mighty roar, the Agent threw Ana over his shoulder with one hand, slamming Ana into the ground onto their back, hard. The sound Ana made, the absolute pain they felt. Screaming as soon as their body made contact with concrete. I knew it was about to turn ugly.
"ANA," I screamed. "NO!!!"
As soon as she heard me screaming, Casey knew she had to intervene. So from where she stood, she drew her blasters and started firing. All four guns unloading on the Gener, but Lomanz wasn't concerned. Each blast pinging off of his armor as he planted his foot on Ana's chest.
"I gotta hand it to you," he said. "This rig's pretty handy."
"Wait," Casey screamed, ceasing fire. "Don't!"
But it was past the point of stopping. The Gener reached down, grabbing two of the exo-suit's tentacles. And with a malevolent smile, slowly started to pull. Ana began to scream, clearly suffering as their rig began to shoot off sparks, and with one easy motion, the tentacles that the Gener grabbed came off with a loud snap. Sending Ana into a series of spasms as their synaptic relays began to suffer errors and driving them into a small seizure.
It was at this point that Casey lost it. Guns blazing as she charged in, all to hopefully save her partner. But with a whip of his arm, the Gener's suit popped open and fired a line directly at our pilot. The metal wire wrapped around her waist, and with a quick jerk of his arm, reeled the Stitcher directly into his waiting clutches.
"I always liked fishing," he laughed, glaring down as Casey wriggled his grasp.
"Fucking dust you," she screamed as she struggled to escape.
But the Agent paid her no mind, grabbing one of her upper arms as she fought. As soon as his hand was on her forearm, Casey's eyes went wide as she realized what he was gonna do.
"Don't," she begged. "Don't, don't, don't don-"
With a quick twist of his wrist, her arm bent at a completely unnatural angle. Folding against itself as she screamed.
"Awwww," Lomanz mockingly said to her. "Did that hurt? Here, let me make it up to you."
He shifted his grip, switching to the lower opposite arm. Casey, shaking from the pain she was in, was unable to notice what he was doing until it was too late. Screaming again as he snapped a second arm, this time at the elbow before letting go as it dangled in the wind. Then, he unceremoniously dropped Casey to the ground. Causing her to cry out as she curled up into a ball, kicking away as the pain overwhelmed her.
The P.A. system came to life once more, crackling loudly as we were all shook by a powerful tremor
"WARNING! WARNING! SEVEN MINUTES UNTIL CORE DESTRUCTION! EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY! SEVEN MINUTES UNTIL PLANET DUSTING!"
The Gener pushed Casey with his foot, seeing if she would respond. But when she didn't, a disappointed look crossed his marred face.
"Oops," Lomanz shouted as he looked directly at me. "Looks like I broke my toy!"
I raised my fists as the Gener began to walk his way over towards me, pure evil in his eyes as the red lights continued to flash.
"You don't have to do this," I implored him. "I did nothing to you!"
"It's not about YOU," Lomanz spat back. "It's about your FATHER! And everything he took from me after The Stelladonna incident!"
From my left, I heard Brandy screaming as she charged at the Agent in my defense. But in her rage, she telegraphed her punch. The swing went wide as the Gener leaned away from it, then retaliated by grabbing her by the throat and lifting her slightly off the ground. I was helpless as his hand wrapped around my throat, picking me up off the ground, as well. His pneumatic grip was powerful, making it hard to breathe as I looked over at Brandy, clearly struggling like I was. Whoever torqued him made sure he could take on other Geners without a problem before the armor added to his already considerable strength.
"And for that," he continued, giving me an insidious look. "I'm going to take everything away from you! Starting with her!"
I started to fight back harder, but it was no use. My head was starting to spin as I looked over at Brandy, whose face was quickly turning purple.
"Stop," I croaked. "Please... Let her... go...!"
But as I looked at him, I knew from the way his eyes intently stared me down, the pure malice within him as he continued to tighten his grip on her throat. I knew with my entire being that he meant every word. That he would kill her before my eyes. As my sight began to blur, a massive burst of thunder struck out overhead. And in the brilliant blast of light that soon followed, a massive shape came up from behind the Agent that quickly wrapped itself around his head. His grip on us slipped, dropping Brandy and I to the ground like bags of soil.
"ROUND TWO, ASSHOLE!"
It was Braden! He had recovered and had him in a headlock as he dragged the Agent away! As I sputtered and coughed, I crawled over to Brandy and started shaking her.
"Brandy," I shouted. "Are you okay?"
Brandy's eyes went wide as she took a deep breath, lifting like a rocket as she gasped and coughed in a sitting position.
"So strong," she muttered, hugging me. "He's so- DAD!"
Brandy rushed to her feet before running towards the two Geners, the men exchanging punches and blocking like true professionals. It was at this point I realized that if we didn't help Braden and stop the Agent here and now, we would all be dead. It was do or die time. We couldn't hold back. A true Sudden Death moment.
So, stumbling to my feet, I ran in. No time for fear. I had to protect the girl I love. I mean, I'm a prizefighter, and Brandy was the only prize I wanted. It's what I was trained to do.
-
Only one more installment left.
And it's gonna be the longest one yet.
Things are gonna get heavy. Will most likely have it posted some time next week.
-
Gonna try and have this up by tomorrow. Things have been slow going, and I've got a LOT of exposition and final payoffs left to get to (and maybe some open ended elements, in case people are interested in playing with the setting or I decide to make a sequel).
Then comes next month, where this enters extensive rewrites and I finish up a short story for my SFW setup. So expect an update on Getting With The Goddesses and Your House some time in December. And maybe a new one off, too.
-
All three of us rushed the Agent with everything we had.
Braden saw that we were running into the fray to help, so with a mighty stomp kick, he sent the armored Gener our way. Brandy reached him first, grabbing the bastard around the waist with a rage filled shout and slamming him into the concrete head first with a supplex. As Lomanz was left in a daze, she followed up her attack with a swift kick into his ribs. You could hear his armor crumpling as he was lifted into the air by her move, like a metal wrapped ball. Just at the right height for my fist to come through, socking him in the ear. Grabbing the side of his head, he fell back down to the ground just in time for Braden to leap on top of him. His legs and arms wrapped around the Agent's shoulders, locking his arms in place.
"HIS ARMOR," Blockbuster screamed. "REMOVE HIS ARMOR!!!"
Brandy didn't need to be told twice, reaching down and pulling directly on the plating itself as Lomanz struggled and fought to break free from Braden's grasp.
"Consumer scum," Lomanz spat out. "You're dead! You're all dead! Gonna join your father in being space dust, you fucking-"
"Shut up," I screamed as I kicked the Agent upside his head. But Lomanz continued to fight and scream.
"It won't come off," Brandy shouted as she continued to pull. "I think it's system linked!"
"Don't give up," I told her as I joined her in trying to remove the armor. "We can't give up!"
My fingers glided along the armor, seeing if there was some sort of release or something. But Lomanz cackled as we scoured every inch of his gear.
"You don't get it," he taunted. "This isn't just power armor! This is a life support system! I'm hardwired in this thing! Unless you got the right code, you'll never-"
Brandy raised her fist, and with a scream, struck as hard as she could right by the collar of his gear. Lomanz' eyes grew fearful as he realized what she was doing.
"NO," he screamed, his voice wavering as Brandy raised her fist again. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP! STOP!"
But Brandy refused to listen, raising her fist once more as she threw another blow. The collar of the armor bent with a sickening crunch as blood began to trickle down his neck. And then Brandy threw another blow, and another, and another. Until caught in a piston's rhythm, she was wailing away at his chestplate. Each strike causing his armor to bend and give way more and more, turning the tank like armor into scrap. She turned to me, her eyes full of determination as she grabbed the ruined remnants of the armor's collar once more.
"Pull, Marco!"
My hands joined hers.
"Let's do it," I told her. "One! Two! Three!"
And with a groan, we began to pull. Lomanz fought harder to free himself, twisting and pulling his arms. But Braden's grip was sure, trapping him to ensure we could get the job done. He screamed as we screamed, his voice filled with unimaginable pain as we peeled the metal off his body. Sparks and blood flying in the pouring rain as we slowly, surely rolled the metal suit off his torso. And then, in one final tug, we both leaned back and screamed as it finally separated from his body. Falling on our asses, we held the scrapped armor for a few seconds before we realized the macabre mess we were holding and tossed it aside.
Brandy was the first to react to what we had just done.
"Dust me..."
I saw her hand on her mouth, then turned my head and saw what we had just done.
There lay Agent Lomanz, clearly in a state of shock as we had just effectively skinned him alive. For the armor had served as a literal shell for the mass of scarred tissue and artificial muscles and damaged organs that lay underneath it. His heart was beating fast, enshrined in a contraption I had never seen before that wove wires through it to keep it working. His stomach was a bundle of scar tissue, His liver replaced by artificial filters. His intestines were just translucent tubes, filled with a disgusting greenish slurry. His ribs were metallic, reflecting the red alarm lights. Barely anything left of the person that he must have been.
"What fucking monsters would do this to a person?", Braden asked as he clambered to his feet.
"The Seven would do this."
We turned to find Casey on her feet, shouldering Ana who was looking like warmed over Xandoshit as their tentacles limply dragged behind them.
"Why?", Brandy asked them, moving to help carry Ana.
"Secret project," Ana told us, clearly struggling to remained focus. "Intercepted some private Scribes a few months back. Radically modified Geners built for war. The Seven calls them Neo-Geners."
I looked back at where Lomanz lay unmoving. The weight that we may have just killed him sinking in.
"I think this means that The Seven Corporations have something planned for all of this," I said. "I think this means they're planning on going to war with somebody. Especially since they know about the Alvajjins."
"What do you mean by that?", Braden asked, confused.
"If I'm understanding him right," Brandy added. "I think Marco just implied that The Seven might be preparing for a purge, Dad."
Casey's face dropped at Brandy's statement.
"They're gonna go looking for any non-human species they can find, and eradicate them."
Braden lowered his head as he finally realized what we were implicating.
"You mean Genocide."
We felt the planet tremble once more, this time with far more power than we had ever felt.
"WARNING! WARNING! THREE MINUTES UNTIL PLANET DUSTING! PLEASE EVACUATE THE PLANET AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! THREE MINUTES UNTIL COMPLETE PLANETARY DESTRUCTION!"
Braden quickly put his hands on mine and Casey's shoulders, gently pushing us along.
"That settles it," he told us. "We gotta go! Now!"
Brandy looked at me, smiling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Then I noticed her eyes drifted behind me as she went white.
"MARCO," she screamed. "LOOK OUT-"
Before I knew it, I was being thrown backwards. I bounced along the landing pad, rolling for a second before I stopped myself. And as I looked up, I saw him. The man who got my father killed, who was coming after me. Coming after Brandy and her father. Striking Brandy in the face and sending both Ana and Casey with her before going to grab Braden.
"BRADEN!"
Braden's head turned towards me as he resisted Lomanz' attack, holding his hands high in mortal combat once more.
"STAY BACK," Braden shouted. "I don't know what it is, but I think this isn't the Agent's doing! His body! It's on autopilot!"
There's no other way to say it, but I froze. I didn't know what to do. As the storm raged on and the planet tremored, I stood still as my idol and another Gener were caught in a struggle that I was too weak to fight, myself. I was trying to figure out what I should do when I watched the Agent yank his arm out of Braden's hand. Then, with a flick of his wrist, I saw the armor pop open and a long, thin blade slide out. And in one clean motion, the Agent thrust the blade upward. Piercing Braden's chest and causing him to sieze up.
I could hear Brandy's scream as she jumped to her feet once more, tackling the Agent as Braden fell to the ground. I ran to his side, sliding to a stop and cradling him.
"Oh no," I muttered, holding my idol in my arms as the wound flowed freely in the rain. "No, no, no, no, no!"
I looked over to where Brandy was, watching as she fought Lomanz. Well, not so much fought as go after him. But unlike before, his movements were simpler, less concerned. As he seemed to toy with Brandy, I started to notice it. Little by little, it became more apparent. Agent Lomanz was dead, and his body was being entirely controlled. It was as if his corpse was being run by some sort of program.
"Marco," Braden wheezed. "You gotta get Brandy off world."
"We're gonna do that," I told him, crying. "Y-You'll be okay! We'll grab her and-"
Braden grabbed my collar, shaking me to get his point through.
"MARCO! LISTEN TO ME! He... he hit my heart! I'm not gonna make it into orbit! But you and Brandy can!"
Braden placed his hand on my shoulder, working his way to his feet. He was wobbling unevenly, fighting to stay on his feet as he stomped forward as Brandy continued to charge wildly at the Agent's corpse.
"You fucker!", Brandy screamed, grabbing for Lomanz' body only for her hands to be pushed away.
In a blind rage, she swung on him again, only for the corpse to slide behind her and get her in a chokehold. With no biological limitations, the cybernetically enhanced carcass lynched its arms tightly around her throat, squeezing as hard as it could. Her hands tried to pry his arms off of her, but every time she felt them slipping through, the body squeezed once more. Until, seconds later, I could see her will slipping. Her arms started to lower and I saw the light leaving her eyes.
"Gonna... Gonna rip your head off," she wheezed as her knees started to buckle. But a voice behind her, screaming loudly, caught her attention. Followed closely by the corpse letting go of her. Gasping for air, she stumbled to her feet as I ran to her side, holding her up. She turned to look at whoever saved her, only to see her father, Braden Bustamante, the man reverently called "Blockbuster" across several galaxies, lifting the modified Gener's body, made of everything flesh and tech, over his head. Triumphantly holding him high in victory, listing from side to side on his feet.
"GO," he screamed. "GET TO THE SHIP!"
Brandy moved towards her dad, but I quickly grabbed her arm.
"We're not leaving you," she screamed back, tears flowing freely as the rain fell down upon us. I ran in front of her, wrapping my arms around her waist as much as I could. Trying to keep her back.
"You have to," Braden said, giving her a warm smile. "I love you, kiddo. And Marco?"
I turned my head as I tried to resist Brandy's push, knowing he was letting nothing go unsaid.
"Be a guiding light for my little star, will you? Like a good Companion does."
With one last cry, Braden turned away and threw the Agent's corpse as a giant stone hand erupted from beneath the launching pad. The progeny of the K'nzaric climbing out of the pit they had made as both Agent Lomanz and Blockbuster fell headfirst into it. Brandy fell to her knees, screaming for her father as he vanished into the depths of the planet. Reaching out for him as she wailed at the edge. Screaming "Daddy" over and over before collapsing into a sobbing heap in my arms.
I wanted to mourn with her. But now was not the time. The lights changed from red to white, the alarm sounding once more as the systems crackled to life again.
"WARNING! WARNING! ONE MINUTE UNTIL PLANET DUSTING! PLEASE EVACUATE THE PLANET AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! ONE MINUTE UNTIL COMPLETE PLANETARY DESTRUCTION!"
I quickly got to my feet and began pulling on Brandy's arm.
"Brandy," I shouted through tears. "We gotta go!"
"Let me go," she screamed. "I- I can't- I just-"
"Little sister."
We both looked up just in time to see the Second Gener that communicated with us earlier, kneeling down as he loomed overhead. His eyes and mouth glowing in kaleidoscopic colors that shouldn't be visible to the naked eye.
"Your father was a good man. But you know as well as the Companion that you must leave. He gave you life. He gave you love. And he gave you a name."
His hand gently scooped us up, then quickly placed us right by the ship as the engine came to life.
"Honor your father," he continued. "Honor his name. Honor your name... BLOCKBUSTER. NOW GO! WE WILL SURVIVE, AS WILL YOU!"
We watched as he stood, turning his head to the sky. Then, in one mighty voice, we witnessed as they began to sing once more. A unique frequency that resonated in us. And I began to feel something pulling me. No, maybe not pulling me. More like LIFTING me. And I suddenly understood what Braden had told me earlier. How K'nzarics created the Song Of Life. They had a unique ability that let them affect things with just their singing. It was like... their voices were engines to cause phenomena to happen. I grabbed Brandy's powerful hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as she looked at me.
"Let's go," I told her, pleading with her with my whole heart. She smiled back at me, pain in her eyes as she nodded her head and wrapped her arm around me as we climbed aboard. As soon as we were inside, I closed the door and we took off in silence. Within seconds, we were in orbit, watching the progeny float onward into space from the planetoid we were on. We were in awe as superheated sections of the planet quickly burned giant holes in the surface before we witnessed it all begin to glow a searing white through the window in front of us.
"Brace for impact!" Casey shouted, causing us all to strap in as the entire world exploded. Sending out shockwaves that rocked the ship back and forth as it continued to speed away. Alarms blared, worrying us somewhat. But shortly after, the ship began to settle and the alarms went quiet.
"Coordinates programmed," Ana told us. "We'll just be hitting some backchannel ports, and we'll be landing on the Alvajjin home world of Zuy'tvr in no time."
But we didn't notice. Brandy and I just sat there, leaning against each other. Too numb to do anything beyond sleep as she wept in my arms.
----
It was a week after we landed on Zuy'tvr that the CEO of Alvajjin Industries sent us a message about an appointment. Between scheduling time with Med-Tech engineers to Psych treatments, to general wellbeing and talking with Resource managers about some actions they'd have to take with us being at their homeworld's headquarters. Unsurprisingly, everyone we talked with was human. Either a Stitcher or a Torque. Probably by design so I wouldn't get too freaked out. But for a full week, I hadn't seen Brandy even once. I only knew about updates Resource managers were willing to give me.
But today was for meeting the Madame, the CEO of Alvajji Industries.
As we ascended the elevator in silence, my mind raced of every possibility. They never told me what the CEO looked like, but from the vaguest descriptions they did, they said she wasn't human at all. She was literally an unknown species to people like me. So I had to prepare myself, which was why the silent ride. Soon, the elevator stopped. And as the doors opened, I saw three women. One was almost entirely robotic, metal plated skin covering her body as she bowed. Next to her was Casey, her arms still in casts as she gave me a slight wave. And next to her was another woman, who was dressed in an executive looking outfit that was tailored for her four arms and powerful physique. Her short metallic red hair was brushed back in a stern way that was offset by her kind smile as she looked down on me. It was pretty easy to guess that this must have been Casey's mother, given their resemblance.
"Mister Mercado," the robotic woman asked me, gesturing to Casey and her mother. "This is Ms. Camille Tosana."
The executive quickly stepped forward, taking me in a hug.
"No need for formalities," she told us all. "Not for the son of one of my best friends."
"You knew my father?" I asked, pushing her away slightly.
Camille chuckled in amusement at my question.
"We worked on The Stelladonna," she said. "He saved my life. So in return, I've been watching over you and Shanie. Though I was unable to do anything about... Rico."
I saw her eyes, the pain she felt about not being able to save my brother from the Zavaran Conflict. It was the same pain I felt every time I thought of him. There was something about how palpable it was that made it almost beyond familiar. Like... like it was Familial. Some part of him instinctively knew that I could trust her. The same way I could trust Casey a week ago.
"So that's why she sent me," Casey cut in. "I mean, sure! I broke my arms. But it's not like I don't have two more, right?"
Camille gently flicked Casey's upper left cast, causing her to flinch and hiss through her teeth.
"Agh! Moooom!"
"Now's not the time for jokes," her mom told her with a smile, putting her arms behind her back as she got serious. "The Madame is waiting for you, Marco."
The robotic woman quickly shuffled over towards me, gesturing towards a large pair of ornate green doors, a vast alien seascape carved into the metal.
"If you'd please," she said, standing up and walking towards the CEO's office.
I quickly shot a look at Camille and Casey, letting my discomfort be known as I kept pace with the assistant. The soft sand shifted underfoot as it crunched in a pleasant way with every step I watched as the assistant pressed what looked like a small whale like creature, mixed with the features of a lobster, in the center of the door. And with incredible speed, the doors slid apart into the adjoining wall. Allowing us to enter a very wide room, filled with more increible engravings etched into stone walls the same color as the ornate doors. Many large windows lit the up the whole space, reflecting off the stone in much the same way an aquatic enclosure would be maintained. The pink and black sand covering the whole area in this almost unearthly aura that you were under the waters of the planet itself. And there, in the middle of the room, was a large wooden desk and rounded office chair with its back facing us.
"Madam," the assistant proclaimed as she bowed. "Mr. Mercado has arrived for his appointment."
"Very good. Camille? Casey? Please come in, as well."
As the assistant left, I heard the mother and daughter pair walking into the room before the door closed with a slight whir.
"Thank you for seeing me," I told the madam. "I apologize for being nervous, but I-"
I went quiet as the CEO got up from her chair. And up. And UP. Until, finally, hovering there in the air, the Alvajjin extended her entire frame like if she was floating in the sea. Her bulbous body spreading out as she relaxed her glowing tentacles, until her full jellyfish like body was on display. Her soft, bluish form gently turning in empty space until her reddish brown eyes were trained on me, and what seemed like a smile came to her white beak-like mouth. Then, with a little push of air, she glided towards me, stopping as to meet me square in the eye. It's fair to say I was equal parts frightened and completely wonderstruck as she rested, bobbing up and down with each push of her twelve? Fourteen? I don't know, MANY arms as she pulsed a gentle white light.
"Do not worry," she told me. "You have nothing to apologize for, Marco. You are just one part in a grand cosmos. Discomfort is the natural reaction to new experiences and understanding."
It took me a second to realize that she did not actually speak. This thing... er, being? Was it psionic? I thought that was just a thing you saw on Screens and Cels! Well, so are xenos. But here was one, floating right in front of me, talking directly into my brain! My mind began to spin at what I was experiencing!
"Focus on your breathing," Camille told me as she put her hand on my shoulder. "This is common for a first encounter."
"I'm... I'm sorry," I told the madam. "A life with Stitchers and Torques didn't quite prepare me for an actual... you know."
I swear I could hear the CEO making burbling, chirping noises. Was she... Was that how her people laughed?
"It is alright," she replied. "Nothing could have. After all, you are the first Companion that has awakened."
There it was, that word again. "Companion". Something everyone kept using to describe me.
"I still don't know what everyone means by that," I told her. "Just what IS a 'Companion'? I need answers."
The CEO lifted one of her tentacles, gently pressing it against my forehead before pulling it back.
"You are the first of what we believe is Humanity's great key to survival. The Seven Corporations believe with zealous fervor that Human DNA is the most profitable source imaginable. That the centuries of knowing that a good portion of the genetic material of your race is littered with junk strands of data. So, in their eternal desires for profits, they marketed those strands as malleable content to remake humanity as they saw fit."
"Thus leading to the rise of Stitchers," Camille added. "People with designer deformities, for all intents and purposes."
"Wait," Casey asked. "What does that have to do with Marco? Isn't he a Nat?"
"Yeah," I added. "I wasn't modified before I was born!"
"Precisely," the madam tittered. "You are Natural, from every ounce of your genetics, not a single line of your DNA has been tampered with... except for one little bit of coding on what the Seven Corporations considered utterly useless data."
This got my attention.
"Then I have to ask... what happened to me?"
The madam floated towards a window, looking out over the small city, equal parts industrious and conservationist. Every building built like the balance of the local environment was taken into consideration, or even given priority.
"When we approached your father, he had just learned he was unable to have children with your mother. Completely sterile."
"He was sterile?" Camille asked, stunned by this bit of news.
The madam nodded her head before turning to look at us.
"He was. But we offered him a deal. We would ensure he was able to have children, naturally and with no trace for the Corporations to discover. And in return, he would perform ten years of service for Alvajjin Industries as our spy and saboteur. With the caveat that nothing he did would cause irreparable harm to lives. And true to our word, on each leave when he would see his companion, he would bear a child with her. Rico was his first born, and you, Marco. You were the second. Two happy, healthy sons."
I rubbed the back of my neck. My dad was sterile? And I was part of the deal? There had to be a catch.
"So if the deal was for me and my brother to be born, what was the thing you didn't tell him?"
The madam burbled and chirped again as she beckoned me to join her at the window.
"You're brighter than you give yourself credit," she told me as I walked up beside her. "There was something we didn't tell him. It has to do with that bit of useless data The Seven Corporations passed over. Your people are a heartier race that most would entail. You are able to adapt to most environments, able to overcome harshness that would cripple other species. And all through intelligence and sheer willpower."
She once again tapped me on my forehead, and gave me another odd smile.
"And it is all because of that gene. A gene that controls your ability to adapt. The Companion Gene."
I turned to Camille and Casey, looking for an answer. But when I saw their reactions, the confusion on their faces. I knew they had no clue what she was talking about.
"Companion gene?", Casey asked, finally broaching the question on all our minds.
"The ignored strand of DNA," the madam replied. "For all intents and purposes, its data can be considered complete nonsense... on its own. But when you pair it in the right way, it attunes to certain... variables. At its most basic recessive variation, it allows for greater survivability. But when you make it a more dominant gene, you are able to induce what someone with the dominant gene is capable of. Leading to an attunement so fine, said Companion is able to enter an almost spiritual symbiosis with another race. Making up for weaknesses the one they bond with may not know they had."
The madam put her tentacles on my shoulders, turning me towards her.
"So tell me, Marco. What was it that drew you to Brandy?"
I didn't know what to tell her. Was it because I found her cute? Or the fact that there was something about how her body worked that drew my eye? Or that I felt right being beside her? Or the fact that I always had a fondness for Geners? I had so many thoughts running through my head, I could swear I could feel it tingling like it does in a fight. Like the times I was a child and my mother took me to the Med-Techs to evaluate why I couldn't make it stop. Like the tingles I got every time my brain went faster than... everything else...
"No," I muttered, stumbling backwards. "That can't be. Did you... Did you stitch something into my genes? Did you program me to respond to Geners?!"
The madam seemed to deflate slightly, her glow dimming as Casey moved to check on me as I started to panic.
"You did," Camille said, the ire in her voice. "You put something in his DNA, didn't you?"
"Not exactly," the Alvajjin replied, a slight tone of defeat in her mind's voice. "We opened his potential to adapt. Then we guided you to put him in proximity with a child of the K'nzaric race and let it go from there."
My head turned sharply at the madam's comment, staring at Camille.
"What did she mean by that?"
Camille was caught off-guard at my question, stammering to give me an answer.
"W-Well, it's like this," she offered, trying to save face. "I was put in charge of overseeing your family. I was the one who organized for your arrival at Janetti's gym. I arranged for Coach Fuentes to take you on, knowing he was close with Braden Bustamante. And it was I that told Fuentes to recommend you to train Brandy, putting the two of you close after her initial Gener transition would end and when her K'nzaric genetics should have stabilized. B-But I didn't foresee what would happen offworld, or her destabilization. Or Tekalmor intercepting coded Scribes about the Companion Gene."
I slowly got to my feet, the sheer fury I was feeling burning in my chest. EVERYTHING had been organized. I felt like a pawn in some grand game, moved and manipulated without consideration.
"Does Brandy know?"
I think my question caused everyone else in the room to blanche.
"I'm sorry?"
"DOES BRANDY KNOW?", I repeated, growling as I fought to hold my anger in.
"...Yes."
I turned towards the madame, glaring at her as she hovered there by one of the windows.
"You know where she is," I said, coldly glowering at her. "So tell me where. I need to talk with her. NOW."
"It might not be in your best interest to-"
I slammed my fist onto the desk, causing everyone to jump at my sudden display of violence.
"DON'T TELL ME WHAT'S IN MY BEST INTEREST! I have been beaten, abducted, electrocuted, tossed around like a toy, attacked by a giant fucking beast, in a coma, been told my entire life has been one massive fucking lie and fallen in love with someone that may or may not be turning into a giant fucking statue being! Now be fucking honest for once and tell me where Brandy is!"
The only sounds in the room were the gusts of air from the being that had coordinated my entire existence for some fucking experiment, and my heavy breaths from the rage I was feeling deep within me. I could feel the little pinpricks of heat crawling across my body as I waited for an answer. But everyone's complicit silence let me know that I'd have to go looking for her myself. So, with a deep, disappointed sigh, I rubbed my eyes and walked past Casey and Camille towards the door.
"Wait-," Casey called out, reaching for me. But her mom's hand on her shoulder, followed by a slow shaking of her head stopped her in her place. So, reaching into her pocket, Casey handed me a written scribe, giving me her contact info. I just quietly put in inside one of the pockets of the outfit that I was wearing back when... when Braden died and pressed the whale/lobster thing engraved on the door to open it.
"Marco," Camille called out to me. "Don't go. We have more to tell you. And if you decide to leave Zuy'tvr, we won't be able to protect you. The Corporations have pinned Braden's murder on you. If you go, you'll be a dead man."
I hung my head, realizing that if I walked out now, I might never know everything they've done to me. But whatever explanation didn't matter. The only truth for me, right now, was finding Brandy and making sure she was alright.
"If that's the case," I told her. "Then I'm already a dead man."
I could hear Camille gasp just before the door closed. And as I walked towards the elevator, all I could feel was a strange... ease. Like this sense of peace flowing through me. I had been something of a playboy before, always looking for action. The women I fucked, the fighting, the partying. As I walked into the lift, I realized that I had nothing. Clinging to phantoms of my father and brother, losing myself to my urges and instincts. But when I saw Brandy, something in me just changed. It was like I was getting my life, my priorities, even myself in order for the first time. I was scared. And I knew Brandy was scared.
So, as soon as I stepped foot outside the building, feeling the rush of the sea air blowing past me, I had a feeling I'd know where to find her. As I walked towards what had to be the oceanside, I took in the city. The sounds of the citizens as they talked, all from different worlds and races I had never seen before. Large shark/wolf things selling stone furniture in one spot, or horse-like spider beings with six eyes and mandible muzzles running an open air restaurant where they cooked these bug like things over grills with stones that when you struck them together, caught on fire and then thrown in to cook the meals. Stitchers conversing with worm-like beings with eyestalks that walked and talked like men. Billboards and advertising selling products in languages I had no clue on where to start to decipher. Everything more bizarre to me than all that had come before.
As my head was spinning at the sheer surreality of it all, I felt myself bumping into someone and falling on my ass.
"I'm sorry for not looking where I was-"
I became fearful at what I saw. Three massive beings, bright pink in skin tone and brutish in body type. Each bearing three cyclops heads on their body with a giant horn that curved like an "S" on each of their foreheads. One straightening its clothes as it looked down at me."
"Hyet'e kun-vadt?", it growled, its voice deep and powerful.
I immediately began to babble, not knowing whether I was about to get my assed kicked. I flinched as they reached down and picked me up.
"HUMAN!", they said, excitedly as they gently put me back on my feet.
"Y-Yeah," I said, not moving as the brute began to dust me off.
"Good," it said in broken Universal, all three heads nodding in different rhythms. "I have been learning your words! Is strange! But I find fun!"
"I'm... I'm glad it's fun," I stammered. "Again, I'm sorry for running into you. It's my first time here, and I'm trying to find someone."
"Want help?", the right head asked.
"Yes," the being's third head asked. "We help! Where they going?"
I looked around, wondering where to go when I suddenly got the notion to go down a street to the right.
"I think she's that way," I said, pointing. "The shoreline?"
"Yes," the heads all cheered before letting the center one continue. "Shore is that go! Sea very beauty! Romance at sundown time!"
With a quick farewell and thank you to all three? Nine? Er, everyone that I accidentally ran into, I followed the pull down every street. And soon enough, I reached the empty shore. There was no pier, no map. Not a single building on the pink and black sand that stretched on for miles against the light green sea. So I toook to walking as the two suns slowly began to dip below the waters, and the three ringed moons rose parallel into the dark and brilliant sky. It wasn't long until I saw Brandy, sitting by the shore, staring out across the ocean with her powerful legs held close against her mighty body. Without a word, I sat down next to her. Letting the moment be the crashing waves, the wind rolling onto land and the strange, scale covered creatures in flight whose whistle like shrills cried out overhead.
We sat there for what seemed like an hour, as the light faded and the sounds receded until the ocean had calmed and the birds or whatever they were had gone away.
"Did they tell you?", she asked me, her eyes glued to the water.
"Kind of," I admitted. "I got so angry that I stormed out of the CEO's office and came to find you."
"I thought I was the one who was supposed to be mad all the time..."
I could tell she was trying to make a joke. But after everything we had been through, we were just too numb to really laugh.
"I was angry," I told her. "Not just for me, but for you. The way everything was set up. The way we were manipulated. It wasn't right."
I felt Brandy's massive hand on mine, gently holding it. Her thumb running across the back of my hand.
"But if they hadn't done that," she said. "Then we would have never met. And I don't want to lose you, Marco. We've lost so much, and you're the one thing that has kept me on solid ground this whole time. The way you love me, how much you care for me."
I turned my head, looking into her big, beautiful brown eyes. I knew she meant every word. But there was something nagging at me.
"But is it real," I asked her. "Or is it because of this fucking gene they activated in me? I'm scared it mmight be for the wrong reasons."
Brandy took a deep breath, then gave a long, worried sigh as she pondered what I was asking. She lay back, resting against the sand as she stared up at the stars for a minute before humming melodically.
"Maybe it's real," she told me. "Or maybe it's not. All I know is you're here, and what I feel for you is exactly what I think you feel for me."
I closed my eyes and smiled, shaking my head as I lay back beside her. Her hand wrapped around mine as starlight filled the galaxy above us. Nebulae and shining colored dots of other planets too far to be properly seen with the naked eye sparkling above us as I thought about her words. And in my heart, I knew she was right.
As I turned to look at her, the melancholic smile all those who know love and loss have on her face as she watched the starry night sky. I knew now was the time for me to be honest with her. I gently squeezed her hand, getting her attention as I rolled onto my side.
"I love you, Brandy."
Brandy's eyes grew misty as her smiled warmed, growing happier with every second as she rolled on her side to meet me.
"I love you, Marco."
It wasn't our first kiss, but I think it's fair to say it's our first true kiss. For an hour afterward, we lay there, cuddling and enjoying the silence that can only be shared between those whose love ensures they are not alone.
----
It was after nightfall that Camille entered the CEO's office once more, checking on her boss. She had never seen Madame Xyn'qhp this way before. She had never been defied, let alone by two beings. The alien CEO was moody, to say the least. A veritable storm that was slow to quiet, roiling with emotions her race were not very prone to expressing.
"Are you going to be okay?", the Stitcher asked.
The Alvajjin strobed brilliantly three times before the light slowly faded.
"In time. Your race is tempestuous, to put it lightly. Even the Stitched ones."
Hoping to get her boss to settle quickly, Camille placed a bowl on the desk, filled with her boss's favorite treat: Gatharian Sea Slugs. Quickly slipping a tentacle into the bowl, the madam picked out a particularly fat slug before drawing it to her beak as it opened up. Revealing the rows of needle like teeth inside before chomping down with a wet squelch as the slug squealed as it became her food.
"We are," Camille said, screwing her face up at the sound of her boss feeding in front of her. "But those two might be especially problematic."
"Then we will give them distance for now," the madam communicated. "As soon as Marco reached Brandy at the beach, the proximity was enough to bring him down. He still has many doubts, but I can verify his love for the K'nzaric progeny is not induced."
"So you wanted him to find her," Camille said, getting her boss's actions. "So he'd calm down."
The madam burble/chirped, letting her executive know she was correct.
"Indeed. Though it's not like I don't have other reasons. My main concern is bringing them together, after all."
Camille nodded her head, smiling at the madam's ingenuity.
"For the good of our two races."
Grabbing another slug, Madame Xyn'qhp hovered over her seat.
"To save the K'nzaric race."
Camille stood, proud and tall.
"To save the Human race."
Quickly consuming the slug, the alien CEO began floating towards the door, waving for Camille to follow suit.
"In two days, I want you to find and approach the couple again. They will not have gone off world, I've assured that."
Opening the door, the Alvajjin and Stitcher began to make their way towards the elevator.
"What do you want me to tell them?", Camille asked.
Calling the elevator, the madam turned towards her executive and smiled.
"Offer them the treatment to hold off any further K'nzaric transitioning. They must never know we need Brandy Bustamante to retain as much of her Humanity as possible."
As the elevator doors opened, the CEO floated backwards before pressing the ground floor button.
"Why?", Camille asked, curious at her boss's comments.
"For the sake of the universe, they MUST have a child! They must bear the first True Hybrid!"
The elevator doors closed, leaving the Four Armed Stitcher in stunned silence at the revelation of the Alvajjin race's true plans for Marco Mercado and Brandy Bustamante.
-
Wow! A great way to seal this story. It would be criminal to not see this story through and to see a Part 2 to finish Marco's and Brandy's trek through all of this! Thanks! K++
-
Wow! A great way to seal this story. It would be criminal to not see this story through and to see a Part 2 to finish Marco's and Brandy's trek through all of this! Thanks! K++
Thanks! Felt it would be smart to leave it open for future stories.
And here's where I going to drop the bombshell about the setting: I'm opening the Blockbuster universe to anyone else who wants to write a story in the far flung future setting where Corporations and their bizarre religion for the Elite of the Elite based around Capitalism and Profits controls everything about Humanity, modifications are commonplace and often on sale, advertising is omnipresent, and bizarre alien species exist but only beyond the fringes of Humanity's reach. The Dystopic Space Opera that's one part Ringworld, one part Xanth with shades of Robocop and Warhammer 40K.
If anyone wants the specifics for the setting's Bible in order to write a story, feel free to message me. I'll send you a copy when I finish writing it up.