The "we're not dead" chapter from u/eruwenn and I. No promises on how fast the next chapter arrives, but it is underway.
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Sam Jakobs strode through the lobby of Umgrol Tower with all but one of his most trusted friends. Black suits slipped through the crowd; much like a shark’s fin through waves, they simply parted without a ripple of effort. Faces were grim, eyes focused, and a tension sat on their combined shoulders like a weight they all knew too well.
“I could make an excuse,” Duong offered, deciding to try and break the mood. “No need for you to attend this meeting in person.”
“It’s fine,” former Colonel Jakobs answered with a resigned sigh.
“But, shouldn’t you be with Britney?” Lopez attempted to change his mind with an appeal to his emotions. “She was looking forward to taking you on a roller coaster.”
“I’m doing this for Britney,” the loving father replied without hesitation.
“Avoiding conflict is a good lesson,” Jabari offered his advice.
“True.” Sam conceded the point.
“Knowin’ how to punch a Wachoto so their heart fails is also a good lesson,” Snake said drily.
“Also true,” the group’s leader said, allowing himself a brief chuckle.
“Sam!” Lopez struck his shoulder with the back of her open hand. “Don’t even joke-”
“We’re not killing Hopper’s replacement,” Sam confirmed, allowing himself an almost imperceptible shrug. “Not today, anyway.”
The small ripple of laughter that had passed between them had helped alleviate some of the tension that had been building. Duong paused as one of the tower assistants came jogging up to them, and he held up a hand to stop the others. As the young man approached, the terror was visible in his face. "Your order, Sir." He held up a white box from Pierre's, large enough to require both hands to hold, and instead of saluting he simply bowed his head and extended the package towards them.
“Thank you,” Sam replied, accepting the box and tucking it under his arm. He saw the others staring in confusion. “A gift,” he explained.
“From you…” Jabari said slowly. “To?”
“Did Choco make an exploding cake?” Duong jokingly asked.
“Another exploding cake,” Jabari clarified. “There was that thing in the Whethan Sector.”
Elevator doors opened, and their conversation fell silent as they entered, only to start up again once it began to move.
Jabari had found that humorous antics, or the mere memory of them, often eased tension before combat. He tried the interrupted tactic again. "Remember that time he stole a light cruiser from the Odesza Fundamentalists?" After a brief pause to allow the memories to flow, he added, "What happened to that thing, anyhow?"
“Who knows,” Duong hastily replied, nudging his large friend in the side and nodding to the camera watching them. “Lot of stuff goes missing in war, you know-”
“Cameras are off, dumbass,” Choco’s voice came in over their earpieces.
“Better safe than sorry,” the handsome man replied, flashing a smile to their Erinal in the machine, and began fixing up his hair in the reflection of the camera lens. The elevator stopped, and the conversation paused with practiced precision as the doors parted. The black suits marched silently through the underground military base of Umgrol Tower basement level three, eventually reaching a set of secure doors. Two black armoured soldiers stood either side.
“Death’s Head?” Snake muttered the question to the others, nodding to the unmoving men and the smooth black mirror that made up the face of their helmets. “I thought we were playing nice with the locals?”
“Purely for the new general’s personal security.” Choco supplied the answer over their secure comms channel, as they passed into the room beyond. “Seems he’s the nervous type.” He slurped loudly on something, causing the others to wince at the noise. “Can’t figure why, ha.”
A dozen more of the faceless sets of black armour waited in the room, weapons ready. Near them stood full body scanners, as well as deep, metal trays.
“Weapons,” one of the Death’s Head Dragoons said, gesturing to the waiting receptacles.
The War Rats glanced at each other, smiled, and began unbuttoning their suit jackets. Things began to be deposited at an alarming frequency by everyone present, aside from one. Sam shook his head at the others as he held his box of confections. “I thought I said unarmed?” he asked.
“This is unarmed,” Snake replied, tossing a sixth knife into the tray.
“Oh, you meant unarmed unarmed.” Jabari’s deep voice was full of humour, and he failed to stifle his rumbling laughter as he tossed a large, brightly-coloured grenade into his tray.
The closest guard flinched at the sight of the explosive, and immediately asked, “Is that an Oracle?” He took several steps back, despite knowing that the explosive could vaporise several floors of even this reinforced building. Something whose very name spoke of being a message from god, a literal invite to hell. “Isn’t owning one of those a war crime?”
“In Triumvirate space, sure,” the big man answered, shrugging off the obvious obfuscation. “No local laws are being broken. Besides, I’ve been working on making a better version.“ He smiled at his reflection in the man’s visor. “This one lacks the wow factor.”
Two of the other guards were muttering back and forth, clearly nervous, and Sam stepped in to ask, “Do we have a problem?”
“Err...” One of the indistinguishable soldiers glanced nervously at Lopez, who had stepped through the scanner. "Her arm, Sir. It's been augmented with-"
"You want me to take my arm off?" Lopez laughed, well-acquainted with the multiple warnings her Choco-manufactured appendage had set off. "I guess you really did mean unarmed unarmed.
Sam took control of the situation, his voice calm and even. “We’re all on the same team here. General Midysus requested this meeting himself.” He gestured back towards the door. “I can head up to my office, and he can-”
“It’s fine,” Maria gently interrupted, reaching up to start unfastening her shirt so she could remove the artificial limb. “No me importa, we just need to-”
“No.” Sam’s voice was iron, an infinitesimal amount of the rage that was brewing inside him seeping into that singular syllable. “I care.” His eyes had not left the dragoon who had made the request, and they took a faltering step backwards. “My men brought weapons, which I will punish them for later” -his subordinates grimaced at those words- “but, bad jokes aside, we are allies.” He turned to look at the elevator doors, then asked, “Unless you would like to alter the terms of our agreement?”
In response to his words the elevator doors slid open.
Duong was swept up in the moment, and he leaned in close to one of the dragoon’s. “That’s right. Los-”
“Let’s go,” Sam commanded, and his group straightened, following him through the now open doors.
“Sorry,” the others began as the doors closed.
“I’m not so-” Snake began before being elbowed roughly by Lopez’s metal arm. “Damn it, that hurt.”
“Can we all focus?” Sam's reminder was audibly weary. "Remember why you're here," he said.
"To stop you from killing him," Duong swiftly answered. It was most certainly not a recreational outing they were on.
“Exactly,” the colonel answered, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles were white.
Jabari looked at the group gathered, and muttered, “We should have brought more people.”
“Numbers never stopped him before,” Maria said, leaning in close and using her non-metal shoulder to lean into Sam. “We just need to keep reminding him of the reason he chose peace.”
“Speaking of which,” Choco’s voice cut in over the comm’s channel, “guess how many kids threw up on the bumper cars?”
-------------------------------------
Haruki Sasaki stood in front of a large cartoonish castle, talking with several members of the park staff. They were gathered on a wide drawbridge over a moat, in which many waterfowl of different colours and sizes swam. The crenellated wall was tall, boasting minarets at all four corners, and an impressive keep at the centre. Flags and banners of an eye-searing myriad of hues flapped colourfully in the breeze. As the wind slowed down, the colours suddenly shifted, becoming an even mix of red and blue. It was historically inaccurate, strategically flawed, and the children had all loved it.
“All of the suits are working correctly?” the tailored lawyer asked, maintaining fixed eye contact with a pale and perspiring park worker in an orange jumpsuit. “I want them to enjoy this more than they did the bumper cars.”
“The enjoyment comes from the acceleration, and sudden deceleration,” the sweaty lead park engineer began. “It is very fine tuned, and the intra-species variation in tolerances is something we need to work on.”
“Kids get sick.” A junior worker shrugged off the issue. “That’s why we have the cleaner bots, and disinfectant hoses.”
“Brian… we’ve talked about this,” the lead engineer warned her underling. “If a Gr’darian was to vomit on a Peil, during their mating season, what would happen?”
“Errr..” Brian paused, having no idea what the answer might be. “Failed mating season?” he guessed.
“No!?” Her angry response contained both shock at his flippancy, and incense at his poor knowledge base. “How many times have I told you to study the secretions of the gelatinous races? Combining those two xeno bodily fluids would create chlorine gas, do I have to remind you why that is a bad thing?” Barry hung his head in shame, his long blonde hair covering his increasingly red face. “My apologies, Sir,” the lead engineer said as she returned her attention to the man in the immaculate black suit. She held up her thumb and forefinger with the slenderest of gaps between them. "I am this close -- this close! -- to shipping him back to Disneymoon seven. A few cycles of repairing the Star Wars Lightsaber Academy animatronics would serve him right.”
“We don’t have either of those species present, Ms. Bizhan,” the lawyer was relieved to point out, feeling a small hint of sympathy for the now cowering Brian. “And we are getting a lot of useful information, which is the purpose of this park.”
“Most definitely.” The head engineer nodded emphatically, adding, “And please, call me Fariba.” She pulled a small tablet from a large pocket on her leg, quickly skimming her notes. “In addition to the expected biology-based observations, we've definitely found several potentially lucrative markets to expand into.”
Haruki nodded. “The Triumvirate will find a way to make you their prey,” he murmured. “Physically or economically.”
“Preferably the latter,” Fariba said with a well-practised smile. “But we must know our enemies better than we know our friends, even if we don’t know which of them will choose which path.” She tapped her tablet once more. “They were all shocked that we could manufacture inertial dampeners small enough to fit in the bumper cars, so we can open up a lot of trade with that minor technology.” She used her thumb to point over her shoulder without looking back. “With those we deem our friends, of course. Helping them get a step ahead of those who choose to be more resistant.”
“Resistance is futile,” Brian added with a grin, having spent an entire summer assembling Borg animatronics for a Trekkie battle arena experience.
“Ignore him,” Fariba quickly said, flapping a hand behind her back to shoo the junior engineer away. “I can assure you, the full dive VR suits are calibrated to the lowest tolerance levels known for each species.” Her sweet smile was pasted onto her face once more. “You will have nothing but positive things to report to Mr Jakobs, I assure you.”
“Of course,” Haruki nodded, realising all eyes were on him, and they were afraid. “I take responsibility for the earlier incident, I should not have allowed them to follow a Britney diet.” He saw them visibly relax, and continued, “I will make sure to monitor their food intake more carefully.” He stepped to one side, and began walking into the castle, giving a polite bow of his head. “I’ll go to the observation room, and see how they’re getting on.”
“They’re still being scanned,” the head engineer answered swiftly, wanting to prove her usefulness. “The match will begin once they’re all ready.”
“Fine, fine,” the lawyer replied, waving over his shoulder as he left them standing on the drawbridge. His swift stride carried him through the portcullis, and away from the engineers.
Fariba let out a huge sigh of relief, and she sagged like a deflated balloon animal found a week after a birthday party. This physical response was soundlessly mirrored throughout the group, except for their newest member. The head engineer rounded on Brian, glaring furiously. “What the hell were you thinking?” she demanded. “You don’t make jokes around people like that!”
“Lawyers?” the slightly slower member of the group innocently asked.
“No. Not lawyers,” Fariba replied sarcastically, waving her hand yet again and dismissing the rest of her team. “Well actually, you shouldn’t make jokes around the Triumvirate lawyers either, but especially not around that lawyer.” She leaned in close, and lowered her voice to barely a whisper. “You served?” she asked, although his presence here meant the answer was a foregone conclusion.
“Thirty-Seventh Avionic Engineer Battalion,” he rattled off his unit immediately, standing a little straighter. “Assigned the Illustrious, maintaining the X-7 Raptors, and the old Higgins Orbital Landers.”
“Well even a wrench bender from Ol’Lusty should have heard of the War Rats.” She eyed his youthful face, waiting for the moment things fell into place.
“Pfft,” he derisively scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It may be that I was sent to requisition clear black paint, and I went without question. I might also have spent two hours at the quartermaster's station when I was ordered by the rest of my team to requisition a Long Stand." He shook his shaggy blonde head in disbelief at his earlier naivety. "But, I never fell for those stories." His claim was punctuated with a guffaw of contempt. "Pure propaganda, to keep the systems in line. There's no way that even half the shit they're supposed to have done could be true.”
Fariba’s eyes were wide. Her mouth opened and closed several times as she stared into the stupidity of his youth. “Why don’t you go home for the day,” she gently instructed him, deciding that someone who could stand next to a shark, and not see its teeth, was not a person who should be around apex predators.
—-----------------------------
“It tickles,” Fah’Zi squeaked as he walked through the full body scanner.
“It’s reading your skeletal and muscular structure, and mapping your neural paths,” Penny explained. “Completely harmless, and necessary for the synapse translators to perform correctly.”
“And we just lie in the pods,” Pu’Sha hesitantly asked, looking over to the devices plugged into the wall. “And then we’ll be in the game?”
“Exactly.” The tower assistant was pleased they were paying attention.
There was a vibration felt in everyone’s bones, and Britney replied to Ung, “You’re not allowed to have them at home.”
“That’s right.” Though Penny hadn’t understood the question, the response made the enquiry clear. “Full-dive VR is heavily restricted, due to its highly addictive nature.” Always keen to add context to a rule, so that it was seen as protective rather than punishing, she elaborated; “A long time ago there was a group called the Neo-Utopian Transitioners, who believed humanity’s future was inside the machine. They fully embraced the virtual world, leaving behind automated systems to take care of the world around them." She took a deep breath, rapidly deciding on the best way to end the tale for these school children. "It... didn't end well. To prevent any future mishaps, the Triumvirate set up a strict regulatory body.”
“This thing’s dangerous?” Inaue asked. The small red Yaou was prodding the machine with his prehensile tail. “And you want us to get in there?”
“The machines are perfectly safe,” Britney replied. Choco had told her all about the N.U.T.’s, when he showed her his highly illegal home VR setup. “They just took it too far. Hooked themselves up to life-support systems, and fully lived in their own world.” She smirked as only a child about to reveal a disgusting factoid could. “Even had tubes to remove-”
“Nobody needs all the details,” Penny interrupted.
“I do,” Fah’Zi insisted.
“Fine,” the mischievous young girl relented, skipping the poop-shoot joke for Penny's sake even though the gag was one of Choco's favourites. "Everything worked fine for a long time, and eventually people stopped going round to check on them.”
“Unfortunately,” Penny interjected, once again taking over the narration of this tragic tale, “with everyone in their own world, nobody was performing basic maintenance. The bioreactor tasked with producing many of their key proteins had been running for decades without issue, but a forced update added advertisements, as well as something called a Captcha to stop them and run the program as intended. There was nobody to select which squares contained traffic lights, and so the bioreactor was effectively disabled.”
“I don’t understand many of the things you just said,” Mike249 said, putting into words what was on the mind of all of the students present.
“They starved while pigging out on imaginary food,” Britney bluntly blurted out, as if this was the worst thing imaginable. “Inside their utopia people started going crazy, then vanishing.”
“Prolonged life in VR requires a medical team to bring you out,” the older human explained. “So they were stuck. Unable to escape. Not knowing why their friends, and family, were acting increasingly bizarrely.”
“What the j’rak?” the green-skinned Zilithian, Todd, exclaimed, looking at the pod and then to the humans who were now suggesting they enter this device for fun.
“Humans have to eat very regularly,” Pu’Sha explained to the newer members of their group who had not spent a great deal of time around Britney. “Without food they become less rational, and aggressive. They even have a special word, hangry, and you don’t want to deal with a hangry human.” She spoke with a very serious tone, as if this single piece of advice was a vital life lesson. Finally, with even greater emphasis, she added, “Always keep your human adequately fed.”
“I’m not a pet,” Britney argued. Realising the advice actually worked in her favour she also added, “But, it’s not a bad rule.”
“So, what happened to the V.R. people,” Mike249 asked, a trembling in his voice accompanied the sagging of his worried antennae. “Were they rescued?”
“Unfortunately not,” Penny gently informed him. “It was actually many years before anyone even noticed.”
“Years?” Aekara whimpered.
“How did nobody notice,” Fah’Zi asked incredulously, thinking practically about dead bodies. “Wouldn’t they notice the smell?”
“People died,” the tufty-tailed Emsalio, Li Gorblek, began. “And nobody noticed?” She seemed angry on behalf of these forgotten strangers of another race. “How many?”
“Seventeen billion,” Haruki answered her, as he entered the room. “They had dedicated their entire world to their Neo-Utopia.” He lowered his voice, to make sure they were listening. “Starvation does strange things to our people. Even our brain chemistry alters, and this eventually disconnected them from their VR… forcibly. The shock of reality was enough to kill the lucky ones. The unlucky ones were trapped in their withered, dying bodies. Locked in their pods until they died. Rejecting the real world, and those who lived in it, meant that there was nobody to save them. There’s an important lesson for all of you.”
“Don’t get in that thing,” Inaue guessed, retracting their red tail from the pod it had been prodding.
“Everything in moderation,” Aekara murmured.
“Have a back-up protein thingy,” Fah’Zi said, his hand raised excitedly, hoping to get praise from his senior Sirius comrade.
Britney repeated the mantra Choco had drummed into her as he recounted the story in gruesome detail. “Don’t allow updates on essential equipment without a qualified engineer present. Oh, and VR lovin’ ain’t real lovin’.” She quoted her Erinal teacher directly.
“Not sure that last part is relevant,” Penny said, her cheeks flushing red. “Anyway…” She raised the lid on the first VR pod. “Who’s going first?”
All of the students took a step back, except for two. Britney immediately leapt into the pod. Ung also moved towards the next pod, having a burning passion for human video games.
“Come on,” the energetic blonde human encouraged. “You’re not scared are you?” Her taunts were enough to get Fah’Zi and Li to start moving.
Pu’Sha looked over to where the human in the suit was observing them, and she sighed. Scary stories and indulgent food aside, the humans would never put them in danger. “Fine,” she said, stepping forward. “Come on, Mike249,” she called, waving him to the pod beside hers. “And you, Aekara.” The Verg was already clambering inside her pod when she looked at the nervous newcomers. “You scared to do something the Bubbles are doing?” she asked, taking a cue from Britney in provoking them.
“Never,” the large grey Runuck – Fraskar – grunted, taking a cautious step forward. He turned and glared at the others from the non-bubble classes. “Get in, let’s put them in their place.”
“Oh?” Britney’s eyes glinted happily. “You want to play teams?” She smiled happily. “Fine by me. Six vs six. O.G.’s against Newbies.”
“If you include Ung, there are seven of us,” Mike249 politely corrected his fearless, if forgetful, leader. “Pu’Sha, Aekara, Fah’Zi, Kenra, you and I.” He held up a claw for each name, demonstrating to the human how that added up. “I could join the others? I am always happy to make new friends.”
“Fine,” the human agreed, though she was annoyed to have lost one of her teammates.
There came a high level vibration, accompanied by thunderous drumming; Ung was clapping her hands excitedly. She was on Britney's team! The vibrations continued as the Da descended a reinforced set of stairs and clambered into an enlarged pod that had been sunk into the ground.
The small human listened carefully to her guildmate, then shook her head. "No, this is definitely not a friendly match," the O.G. leader said. Her eyes locked on to Li's fierce gaze and held steady.
—------------------------------
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Next

Looking to sell a bunch of back issues and trades I still have, all in fantastic shape and recently discounted; read once and then bagged and boarded (where they've been sitting in short-boxes since). I’m certainly open to offers but would otherwise just need to add some shipping to the prices below. All issues are bagged and boarded. Planning on keep the number 1 issue lot together for the moment.
DC Comics – Floppies:
-Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow 1-8 $50 (#1 signed by Tom King)
https://i.imgur.com/oqxUW5J.jpg
https://imgur.com/eroqpj5
-Adventures of the Super Sons 1-12 $30
https://imgur.com/Sh5xmUB
https://imgur.com/MTLatF0
-Hanna Barbera Future Quest 1-12 $40
https://imgur.com/m1t9ZJ4
https://imgur.com/BurklUJ
-Justice League Dark 1-29, Annual 1, The Witching Hour (1, Wonder Woman 56-57, JLD + WW 1) $99 (#1 signed by Tynion IV and Alvaro Martinez Bueno)
https://i.imgur.com/Sa7V3kV.jpg
https://imgur.com/qr3cEoQ
https://imgur.com/CRGdAYF
https://imgur.com/pk5blDG
https://imgur.com/UDzk4oH
https://imgur.com/NFAJyNf
https://imgur.com/VRqsNFO
-Strange Adventures 1-12 (A covers) $50
https://imgur.com/yXv960j
https://imgur.com/xWiSTt1
-Strange Adventures 1-12 (B covers) $50
https://imgur.com/vmyzaj9
https://imgur.com/l9Oc6m0
(Lot of both covers) $80
-All-Star Superman 1-12 $35
https://imgur.com/7yi5YUP
https://imgur.com/LlKiqnk
-Wonder Girl #1-6 $25
https://imgur.com/xFKkTFM
-Martian Manhunter 1-12 $20
https://imgur.com/Y2pcu8R
https://imgur.com/YwHZqYV
DC Comics – TPBs:
-Starman Omnibus v1 $20
-Sandman: Preludes and Nocturnes v1 $10
-Superman/Batman: World’s Finest $8
https://imgur.com/40pqHuY
https://imgur.com/PWcwPsr
Marvel – Floppies:
-Black Panther #1-4 (vol 2) $16
https://imgur.com/YKpuHim
-World of Wakanda #1-6 $15
https://imgur.com/mwSDFcP
-Captain America White $15
https://imgur.com/UXAlbAq
-Hulk Grey $25
https://imgur.com/dWjVd32
-Annihilation Conquest: Starlord #1-4 $20
https://imgur.com/CLkOsYr
-The Unworthy Thor #1-5 $20
https://imgur.com/CDbSwxj
-Hawkeye 1-16 (Kelly Thompson) $60
https://imgur.com/ACExXIp
https://imgur.com/HYCU2JU
-Iron Fist 1-7, 73-80 (Brisson) $40
https://imgur.com/XMStmj9
https://imgur.com/I6AjeEW
https://imgur.com/YkzRx1K
-Way of X 1-5, Onslaught Revelation 1, Legion of X 1-3 $30
https://imgur.com/6e9IU2e
https://imgur.com/ae8tKFd
-Invaders 1-12 $30
https://imgur.com/ZZ5Afq2
https://imgur.com/oTitsu1
-Jessica Jones 1-18 $60
https://imgur.com/1WMkByx
https://imgur.com/cOruQ7i
https://imgur.com/dk7hMMn
-Savage Avengers 1-28 (plus Annual 1 and 0) $99
https://i.imgur.com/J3s5lw2.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/ZwrPIwU.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/g5lLLxu.jpg
-Star Wars Bounty Hunters 1-26, War of the Bounty Hunters 1-5, War of the Bounty Hunters Alpha $99
https://imgur.com/x0QfuGG
https://imgur.com/eCrY1mr
https://imgur.com/uPfVUOZ
https://imgur.com/5NjlzUd
https://imgur.com/0ZiPKxe
https://imgur.com/AJb6xwK
-Earth X 1-12 + 0/X $40
https://imgur.com/M6gpFin
https://imgur.com/4dRO4xs
-Sensational She-Hulk 1-8, 31, 33, 35, 38, 50 $99
https://imgur.com/nqxWNuO
https://imgur.com/xtalGb0
Marvel – TPBs:
-Taskmaster Unthinkable $40
-Invincible Iron Man: Stark Disassembled $10
-Ghost Rider Resurrected $10
-King Thor $10
-X-Men: God Loves, Man Kills $18
https://imgur.com/PWcwPsr
https://imgur.com/40pqHuY
Indie Single Issues:
-Mech Cadet Yu #1-12 $40
https://imgur.com/dPcD5wb
https://imgur.com/ieNyx7h
-The Blue Flame 1-8 $15
https://imgur.com/3Zi83XS
-Frontiersman 1-5, Lock-Up Special 1 $15
https://imgur.com/UGlPbPN
-SW Adventures: Ghosts of Vader’s Castle 1-5 $15
https://imgur.com/xGr7BQy
-Jonna and the Unpossible Monsters 1-4 $15
https://imgur.com/e6Kd0uy
-Empress 1-7 $25
https://imgur.com/zxWoAF6
-Coda 1-12 $45
https://imgur.com/nVhLrWo
https://imgur.com/pMdpMSs
-Captain Victory 1-13 $99
https://imgur.com/t5utg2J
https://imgur.com/II1AXoS
-Crossover #1-6 $30
https://imgur.com/HgmOOJR
-Death or Glory #1-11 $25
https://imgur.com/wMjvTPP
https://imgur.com/svxxGhj
-Hollow Heart #1-6 $12
https://imgur.com/GArmXT0
-Money Shot #1-15 $30
https://imgur.com/smIaNlN
https://imgur.com/owsTwcZ
https://imgur.com/Y5hWThi
-Robocop Versus Terminator #1-4 $25
https://imgur.com/IuQFk9S
Indie TPBs:
-Fear Agent Vol 1-6 $70
https://imgur.com/aTtCKBH
https://imgur.com/wlUmozB
https://imgur.com/xL7mPvH
-Invincible Vol 10-15 $40 ($8 each)
https://imgur.com/RAVa4jT
-Ex Machina Vol 1-5 (complete) $65
https://i.imgur.com/CSnsW4z.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/2UJ3XrX.jpg
-DescendeAscender (complete TPBs) $99
https://i.imgur.com/Cp3VsDW.jpg
Blank Cover lot -Blank covers lot $30
-Wonder Woman Blank
-Infamous Iron Man
-Reborn
-Empress
-Weirdworld
-The Unworthy Thor
-The Avengers
-Black Panther
-Seven to Eternity
-Lando
-Doctor Strange
https://imgur.com/CbTZWBx
https://imgur.com/6zsTzsW
Number 1’s Lot $300
-Omac 1
https://imgur.com/mGuUt6S
-Kamandi 1
https://imgur.com/GawSoBT
-Catwoman 1
-Demon Knights 1
-Justice League International 1
-Vigilante 1
-Hex 1
-Champions 1
-Damage Control 1
https://imgur.com/y0Rlp4L
-Hawkeye 1
-Animal Man 1
-The Spectre 1 (Moench)
-The Spectre 1 (Ostrander)
-Jungle Action 1
https://imgur.com/9tJ0ivM
-The Nam 1
-Lazarus 1
-Batman: The Long Halloween 1
-Metal Men 1
-New Gods 1 (Evanier)
https://imgur.com/XrTnCzi
-The Man of Steel #1B (Byrne)
-Legion of Superheroes #1 (Waid)
https://imgur.com/5KwrlCO
-Robin & Batman #1
https://imgur.com/U3qEKAV
-Naomi (s2) #1
https://imgur.com/XlZnI0J

I'm looking for a GM for the title. I'll be providing a writing sample down below; I've a variety of ideas in mind, including unrelated fandom stories such as WH40K, Dragon Age, KOTOR, Cyberpunk, and ASOIAF/AGOT/HOTD. That's all, folks, thanks.
If a writing sample isn't shared in your first message, I'll block you immediately.
​

The boar is not dead, though to all the other hunters’ senses it is. It lays motionless on its side within the sled, tied down by rope with two arrows sticking discordantly out of its hide like seams of broken bone. Frozen blood pools in the cracked stomach of the sled, collecting rather than leaking now that red ice has sealed the wood. Poison leaching out of the arrowheads keeps the boar docile, and its breathing so light that only Trapper can see. An ovate in too-thin robes shivers as she ties a garland of rosemary around the beast’s neck, murmuring prayers to the ancestors that they might find the kill worthy.
Winter has seized the land in its vise, its unending waves of cold and snow having transformed the Barony of Marlas into a crueler scape, one Trapper doesn’t quite recognize. Tranquility abounds along the driven snow, all through the clearing, hiding the buried world and the woes of man but unable to snuff them out. Trapper knows well what a mirage it is, the oppressive winters of his homeland no less savage than the bloodletting summers. The numbing cold does not soothe his aches, for he knows they’ll be worse come morning, come the thaw. Too soon this clearing will melt, its river gone from white to red, the whole Septima Line thrust back to war.
Baron Orys refuses to yield to midnight season, to accept its peace, and so from his great warhorse’s saddle he brazenly belts out a mixture of drunken lyrics and commands, determined to master this hunt even if he does not partake. An entourage on horseback spreads out in his orbit, ranging from eager young footmen to grizzled junkers, all in varying states of inebriation at his command. Their braying is nearly louder than the hounds’, who hungrily stalk between the sled and the hole they pulled the boar out from. Teased by the hunt but yet unrewarded, they’re too unruly to be kept in check by the kennel master.
On foot slog the unfortunates who actually have to take part in the hunt, Trapper among them. They huddle into their hemp canvas cloaks, glancing up at the moody afternoon sky threatening to crack open with another snowstorm. Dark clouds sweep in low from the south like a riptide, a single vast current swept in from the mountains already menacing the Oldwoods. Its furthest gales reach them as tongues of vengeful cold, flecks of whipped-up snow biting into Trapper’s exposed skin.
By the boar’s nest leans a typical Mallean, one of Trapper’s two erstwhile comrades. Sigorn is tall, pale, broad, with the close-set, wide-boned features of a commoner, and a shock of red hair grown out to protect against the elements. Beneath his cloak he proudly bears his blood-flecked armor, each dent a Darkman put into it a point of dear pride. He’s not the only one, either, the clearing filled with dozens of youths whose first blooding ended in victory amid a blizzard. Baron Orys, deep into his cups after six days of nonstop celebration, saw a break in the storms and gladly called a hunt. When informed he could not go on account of his shattered knee - he simply grinned, and ordered himself tied to his saddle.
Trapper remembers the moment his lord fell from the saddle, burned into his nerves. The screaming of horses, skidding hooves catching on the frozen ground. On the edges of his vision a rider smashes into a branch in the din, others don’t move at all for fear of the blizzard. His spurs dig, his borrowed steed whines, and he races for his lord - only for another to reach him first.
“What a woman.” Sigorn sighs beside Trapper, craning his neck to look at one of their lord’s companions of honor. Susannah Oye junker unlike the others, a pretty, willowy noblewoman well into motherhood, with the lean, ruthless look of a ranger. Her two poisoned arrows are what struck the boar down, and her pride curls off her body like steam. Sigorn’s face cracks into exaggerated appreciation, and then he turns to their lord’s other honored companion. Another woman, this one as young as they are, haughtily-built and leering with none of Susannah’s refinement. Many of those looks are reserved for Trapper, forced to slog on foot as just another hunter. “Anya too. I think she fancies you, eh?"

Crownlands

News from the Crownlands was unfortunately lost in the noise of all other events happening around Westeros.

North

The starbreaker's attack on the village near highpoint turned out to be a ruse and an apparent assassination attempt on dale whitehill, castellan of highpoint. The attack was enough to draw the attention of the garrison, which an unknown infiltrator exploited to bar closed and burn the castle sept, where much of the family, including almost all of the children, had sheltered to pray during the attack.
Gared Whitehill returns from Essos and exile, after a chance encounter with Lord Dale Whitehill in Braavos. He arrives with three loyal mercenaries in tow, to speak with Dale and the Whitehill family at Highpoint
Hearing the news of an attack on Highpoint and death of his kin, Lord Harmond Umber full of wrath. Pledging his support to Whitehills, he mobilizes his men and rides there.
At the isle of Skagos, Jormar of Magnar bids goodbye to his family and prepares to set sail North, while his eldest daughter attempts conversation with her now-betrothed.
Meanwhile, Lord Manderly sends the ravens to all high lords of the realm, offering his scion's hands in marriage.
Down in the swamps, Rickard Reed prepares an ambush for the faith of the seven pilgrims traveling through the Neck.

Vale

Gretchel Waxley has made a new friend through letters to the Lord Commander of the Crownsguard Davos Doggett. Gretchel and Jasper Corbray have found the beginning of a romance in unexpected places. Four young noblemen-Ethan Redfort, Willem Royce, Asher Egen, and Roderik Tully-go on a hunting trip through the Vale of Arryn. House Redfort arrived at Gulltown for the funeral of Lord Robar Grafton in force, both the number of family members and soldiers. Ethan Redfort swears an Oath to the Warrior with Lord Jasper Arryn as witness before being appointed as a military liaison to the Riverlands. Arwen Arryn at last arrives at Gulltown for Lord Robar’s funeral.

Stormlands

The Stormlands have been quiet this moon, a scattering of movements between the lords and ladies have seen many arrive at Storm's End, largely for communication and friendship.
Meanwhile others plot marriages and pacts and friendships between the leading houses of the realm in the city of Kings

Reach

After the tourney at the beginning of the sixth moon, Ser Bors Rowan approached Lady Cynthea Tyrell to speak on the preparations for Barba Tully’s arrival, his choices for commanders in the army and to tell her about the clandestine meeting Ser Raymund Tyrell held where he had declared her unborn child Tommen Blackwood’s and said it was treason.
Lady Tyrell then ordered Ser Bors to arrest Ser Raymund Tyrell under suspicion of treason.
Moving quickly, Ser Bors did so but not before summoning Lord Peake to speak on the precarious nature of the situation.
Ser Bors assured Lord Theodore, who had since accepted a position in the army, that Cynthea would not find out about Lord Peake’s attendance at the clandestine meeting from him.
Upset with Ser Bors for telling Cynthea about Raymund’s meeting, Lord Athos Rowan argued with his twin about the implications and consequences of courtship his actions.
After the twins ended their argument badly, Lord Athos would write a letter to Ser Victor Hightower, asking for permission to visit Oldtown in order to continue the courtship between Ser Victor’s nephew, Ser Olyvar Hightower, and Lord Rowan’s oldest daughter, Cersei.
Early in the month, Ser Paxter Rowan, heir of Goldengrove, elopes with Baela Manderly, marrying her in front of a septon and witnesses. One of which was his younger brother, Franklyn Rowan. Franklyn recounts the night as he travels to Coldmoat to court Lady Rohanne Webber as was agreed upon by his lord father and Lord Webber. Upon arriving Frankly is informed that Lord Webber had passed a few days before his arrival and that Rohanne is now the Lady of Coldmoat.
Ser Bors and Cynthea would also confer on the importance of keeping Bitterbridge in the fold. Lady Tyrell agreed and told Ser Bors to offer the position of Lord Treasurer of the Reach to Theo Caswell, on top of the command position within the army Bors wished to offer as well.
Having befriended Ser Wendell Westbrook during training in the hopes of having him become one of his sworn swords, Ser Bors and a brigade of men accompanied the young knight as he escorted Lady Sirella Caswell back to Bitterbridge.
Hoping the show of good faith and strength would encourage Caswell to renew faith with Highgarden, Ser Bors was surprised to find Bitterbridge’s levies had been raised and were in force at their arrival.
Delivering Sirella Caswell safely to her brother, Ser Bors extended the generous offers to Theo Caswell, who refused them and warned Ser Bors that if Cynthea’s child should prove to be his then he would come for it, by force if need be.
Ser Bors then said farewell to Ser Wendell, who had chosen to stay at Bitterbridge. Upon arriving back at Highgarden Ser Bors immediately set on bolstering scouts and defenses. Upset at the lack of knowledge Cynthea had sent him to Bitterbridge with, he went to confront her only to find her bedridden and contemplating abdication.
By the time Ser Bors had returned to Highgarden, Lord Athos had left with Cersei. A difficult decision to leave behind his youngest children warding in Highgarden, Lord Athos is plagued with nightmares on the road before arriving in Oldtown and being greeted by Ser Olyvar and Ser Víctor Hightower.
Barba and Oscar Tully arrive in the Reach, and Eden Oakheart is sent to greet them. Marya Florent reveals to Eden the truth about Cynthea's pregnancy, and Theo Caswell talks to him about his anger towards Lady Tyrell and his doubts regarding the paternity of the future newborn.
Eden, recognizing the gravity of the situation and the fact that the region finds itself deeply divided by almost unbridgeable cracks, goes to Oldtown to confront Urrathon Hightower about matters both political and deeply personal.
Meanwhile, Lord Garmon Oakheart is proposed by Lady Cynthea for a position on the Small Council, and he is offered an important role in the Government of the Reach.
At Brightwater, Lord Nyles Florent talks with his bastard son about his legitimization. Worried about the future, Nyles talks with Cynthea Tyrell about the next steps and coming marriage.
At Oldtown, ser Harrold Hightower hosts a practice tourney outside city gates to find capable jousters. Meanwhile, Lord Urrathon Hightower attempts to lure Cynthea Tyrell to Oldtown but fails: Cynthea discovers his forgery of the Queen's seal. House Hightower convenes at the Great Hall and informs all the lords present of the bigamy of Cynthea Tyrell and Nyles Florent. Ravens are also sent.
Wendell becomes the new lord of Westbrook with the passing of lord Toman Westbrook.
At Highgarden, ser Ryam Florent writes a poem about himself. He is approached by Lucia Tyrell to have a chat. Lucia has been stressful lately, writing off letters to Eden Oakheart, who she is being threatened to marry by Cynthea. Lucia collected flowers, so that she and Yanda Redwyne could make Flower Crown. Yanda was having a chat with Brandon Flowers, when Lucia entered the quarters and was making little small flirtatious action towards Brandon whilst shipping him and Yanda.
At King's Landing, Chief Diplomat Daven Chester represents Reach at court. There, he gets rejected for a loan despite his maester Grunwald's effort and masterful negotiating skills. Before his departure back to the Reach, Daven goes shopping with lady Fiona Mullendore, with whom he suffers mental breakdown at the reminder of his childhood. Desperate for the ships, Chester tries to purchase Florent's but his letter is ignored. Back in Reach, Chesters try to buy more wood for the construction of their ships. At last, Daven puts his skills to use, managing to secure a trade agreement with iron bank for the supply of construction materials to Greenshield.
Tired of all scheming against her and failure to control her vassals, Lady Cynthea Tyrell decides to abdicate her seat and titles in favor of her uncle, ser Harrold Tyrell. Cynthea invites lords to Highgarden to swear fealty to the new lord Paramount of the Reach. When the abdication was announced, Ser Bors was one of the signatures honoring the binding document of Lady Cynthea’s abdication.
Nyles Florent is displeased with Cynthea's abdication and decides to no longer marry her, nevertheless, he pledges his fealty to the new lord of Highgarden.
Ser Brandon Flowers visits Raymund Tyrell, who gad been under house arrest, to tell him of his cousin’s abdication and his father’s ascension to lordship.

Riverlands

Following the marriage between his heir and Della Tully, Rycherd Lannister and the rest of the Lannisport Lannister head home to the West, leaving his son Edwyn in Lady Tully’s care.
Lady Tully recalls simper times with her children and her ward, Gaemon. She then writes to the Queen and meets with Lords Bracken and Piper to discuss the King’s intent to back his daughter Gaelyn should she try to contest her brother’s ascension to the throne.
An unwanted guest attempts to eavesdrop on the confrontation between the King and his son, Lady Tully dispatched him.
Finally, the King decides to clue in the Riverlords to the deal he offered to Lady Tully, which she refused.

Iron Islands

While sailing the seas due to a bout of boredom, Harmund Drumm stumbles across a whale, he plans to hunt it.
Eurona Greyjoy calls a council of her Ironborn to discuss the state of the realm, and the mess that is the Targaryen family. They discuss the looming threat of war, and the concept of plundering Esoss for all its riches.
However, before this council, the absentee lord of Blacktyde, Sauron Blacktyde, decides to arrive at Seagard with a large number of ships. Lady Greyjoy, understandably, sees this as a threat, though the Blacktyde is dismissive and rude about his liege’s objections, leading to him being stripped of his titles and lordship. Not that it made much difference, given that he had been off playing pirate for five years.
Finally, to avoid being offered up to some Greenlander by her ‘father’ the King, Eurona agrees to take Sigfryd Farwynd as her Rock Husband.

Westerlands

Ser Tywald Lannister receives another raven from Lady Arwen Arryn, inviting him to Gulltown. Ser Tywald agrees to come and writes back to Lady Arwen, professing his enthusiasm to marry her. With a new look, the now-supposedly-faithful Mina Marbrand makes an appearance at the sept, denouncing her sister as faithless and promising the people of Ashemark that she will restore the gods to her family’s seat. Even as the rumours of her sister's speeches reach the Lady of Ashemark, she is unconcerned, convinced that there is little Mina could do to move against her.

Dorne

Where sands are soaked through with blood, the lord Dayne buries his predecessor. The funeral draws visitors from the Stormlands, Dorne and beyond, all paying respects to a great man, leading a tenuous realm.
Soon after the burial of Gerold Dayne, Arthur is quick to move to dismantling the sedition and tension that plagues the land he is charged to protect. Starting with Vaith.
Meanwhile, the fractured remnants of the red cultists continue to hide and rally, gathering their strength once more.
And lady Toland and Morgan Uller chat over their concerns.

Faith

The Faithful lie in wait this moon.

Essos

All seems quiet from across the sea, in Essos.

The Wall

All remains quiet in the lands North of the North.

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A Armello Agent in Depth Alchemist's Castle Amnesia: The Dark Descent + Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs
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M Monaco Meow Express MirrorMoon EP
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S Sable Syberia: The World Before Supraland Strange Brigade Stick Fight System Shock Enhanced Edition System Shock 2 Space Crew: Legendary Edition Soulblight Symmetry Stacking Soul Searching Sunlight Stikir Soulflow Stunts contest super bike
T Ticket to Ride The pizza courier The Inner World The Amazing American Circus
W Worms Rumble Wanderlust: Travel Stories (GOG)
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Greetings to everyone who is reading this post, today I’m looking to do a Fandom RP with anyone who is interested in doing something like this! This will purely be canon x canon stuff so no ocs or out of character roleplaying please, this will require knowledge on the fandoms I will list shortly! My requirements are that you are literate in RP and own discord, those are my only requirements really. I’d also like for my partner to be willing to be decently good friends with me, not just RP and no talking whatsoever so if you’re alright with all of that then I’ll gladly welcome you!
The Fandoms I RP are Persona 5, Konosuba, Pokémon, Naruto, Dragon Ball, MHA, Overwatch, Demon Slayer, Elden Ring, League of Legends, Danganronpa, Adventure Time, Helluva Boss, Hazbin Hotel, Hunter x Hunter, DC comics, Marvel Comics, FF7, AOT, Super Smash Bros, Steven Universe, Star vs The Forces of Evil, Undertale, Deltarune, One Punch Man, Chainsaw Man, Skullgirls, Transformers, Star Wars, For Honor, Komi-San can’t communicate, Ace Attorney, Gurren Lagann, Sonic, For Honor, and Genshin Impact! If even one of these Fandoms interests you then you’re already qualified, I’ll even take suggestions on other fandoms since there’s probably some I haven’t listed or have just forgotten about.

The story of the Imperial Republic of Troy (which I'll simply refer to as Troy going forwards) starts in Afghanistan during early December 2018. The last official transmission received from The Pentagon occurred on November 28th, and with no new news arriving most feared the worst. With almost no air assets, no new supply shipments, and the only real news they knew being of a governmental collapse, panic set in.
Stationed in Kabul the 1st Infantry Division, supported by Army Rangers and elements of the 101st Airborne, were now trapped in an increasingly hostile country without any hope of resupply. Fearing the worst, large scale desertions began. Not helping the matter was the untimely suicide of the 1st's commander: Brigadier General Mordecai Rowlitzki.
This led to his most trusted commanding officer, Colonel Alexander Moore, to take over command of the 1st and it's supporting elements. Immediately, he set about organizing a withdrawal from Kabul, with plans to head east through Iran and then north into Europe.
I won't go into too much detail as to the exact battles, as that'll be saved for the lore companion, but they managed to successfully escape Afghanistan. While somewhat encouraged by their brilliant success in escaping Afghanistan and a victory at Mashhad, their darkest hour was only just beginning.
At Tehran, they narrowly avoided a trap thanks to a last second withdrawal from the city. Iranian forces detonated a crude nuclear device within the city, in the process losing most of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard in the process. While casualties were mercifully only light, it greatly demoralized the remaining forces and blocked their initial path through the Middle East.
Before shifting their forces south hoping in order to move through the various central mountain passes, they took a week long break to recover from Tehran. Then, upon moving through Isfahan, they found large refugee caravans moving towards them. Initially suspecting it to be a hostile force, many of Moore's men fired upon them, before being ordered to stop upon realizing that they were mostly unarmed.
As it turned out, they were fleeing from an Indian invasion that had landed near The Strait of Hormuz. Moore ordered that they be given a clear passage, before attempting to make contact with the Indian forces.
Upon making contact, he found that they were survivors fleeing from the minor nuclear exchange between India and Pakistan. In particular, they were being led primarily by members of the wealthy Zoroastrian minority; in an attempt to reclaim their ancestral homeland. He agreed to ally with them, if only until they could make their way into Kuwait.
Of course, they claimed that they were only doing what's justified in order to reclaim their homeland. In reality, if the testimonies of the refugees were to be believed, they were on a path of genocide. Mosques were burned, religious figures executed, and the only Muslims spared being those that incorporated older Zoroastrian beliefs into their worldview.
But, the alliance was necessary, and he made sure that his scouts were sent first, so as to warn anyone who'd listen about what was about to come. The alliance ended upon the crossing of the Zagros mountains into Kuwait.
It was nearly summer by the time they reached Kuwait, and so they decided to stay there for the duration of the summer. Reconnaissance was sent out to Iraq, Syria, Arabia and Dubai in an attempt to try and find any remnants of US forces still present in the Middle East. Attempts to contact said forces by radio failed due to heavy sandstorms.
That's where I'll leave part 1 of The History of The North American Federation. Part 2 will either cover the early history of The Lone Star Republic, continue the story of the Trojans/ United Legionnaires of America, or focus on another region of North America that would eventually join the Federation. As always, have a nice day!

I've limited the options because:

1. Reddit polls have only six options.
2. I can't imagine Barney hating it.

​
View Poll

So yeah, I know relatively little about SW, but I do know that Sidious/Palpatine was manipulating him to an extent to push along his fall, so is there a way to keep Anakin from falling, at least completely? If his fall can't be completely averted, could he only fall a bit and end up a grey jedi? Am I even understanding them right, as being Jedi who do not (fully) follow the will of the council and may use dark side powers to do what would overall be deemed good deeds?

Il regista di The Green Knight e Peter Pan & Wendy approda nella galassia lontana lontana di Star Wars con Skeleton Crew.
Le riprese della nuova serie tv Star Wars Skeleton Crew sono terminate da qualche mese, ma in queste ore sono emerse nuove informazioni sulla produzione ed è arrivata in rete la conferma che David Lowery ha fatto parte del roster di registi del progetto.
Prosegui la lettura

When I first met my wife she had barely seen a star wars movie. She began to take an interest with the Mandalorian cause everyone loves Grogu, so I convinced her to watch some key episodes of CW and to understand who Ahsoka and the BB are so she was invested in the characters
But during THAT moment in the finale, she was on the edge of her seat yelling at the screen and is now more anxious for the next season of BB than I am.
So thank you BB for making my wife one of us!
Now I'm off to go show her Rebels!

The greatest tragedy of war is that for some people the war never ends.

• Nebojsa Knezevic, head of psychiatry for Pallas Medical Institute, 2142

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Prev/First
Silijima hopped into the truck, next to Sargen. The massive Gojid's head nearly reached the roof of the vehicle forcing him to crouch ever so slightly. He was an even more imposing figure up close, his muscles bulging and his scars held taut against his skin. He seemed preoccupied, as if her presence made him uncomfortable when they were close. His claws gripped the steering wheel, lightly scraping the carbon material. He seemed to be in his late thirties to early forties, and a distinguished Gojid at that save for the eye and the prosthetic arm. Most would consider him quite handsome if it wasn't for the damage he had received, and even then she was sure some women would find a prosthetic like that doubly enticing.
Senek sat in the back, leaning his head back and yawning. He seemed exhausted, most likely from being on duty for the last good knows how many weeks. He kept an eye on Sargen, but it wasn't a distrustful one, more like he was concerned for Sargen's wellbeing. It was hilarious to Silijima, to think that Sargen warranted concern, but she didn't know him or his past so she wouldn't judge; sometimes the strongest people held the greatest burdens.
"So, where to next? Do we have any other stops to make?" Silijima asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
"No, not unless you want to stop," replied Sargen.
Behind them, Senek grumbled. "We need to head back to the Collective and finish for the day; I'm fucking exhausted."
Sargen started the truck and turned around. "Then go home, Senek; you've done your work for the day. I'll show Silijima a bit of the station before I deliver the goods and introduce Silijima to the captains."
Senek didn't seem convinced. "They won't be happy that Sujek and I bailed halfway through the delivery."
Sargen snorted. "Ayaz and Igor won't give a damn as long as the delivery gets delivered. Take a tram and go home and see your mate and kids; you looked harrowed."
Silijima was inclined to agree. Before today, she didn't know if it was possible for a reptile to have bags under its eyes, but Senek surely did. He looked like shit, although Silijima would never voice that out loud.
Senek hissed but didn't argue, opening the door and leaving the back of the truck with a grunt. Silijima saw him walk down the street towards a tram stop in the distance, where one was unloading all sorts of people heading to shop at Zapadnyy tsentral'nyy rynok, as well as those ready finished with their shopping trips. Eventually, Senek disappeared into the crowd of humans, arxur, and the occasional venlil, harchin and gojid.
"So," Sargen started with an apprehensive sigh, "My name's Sargen, as you've probably been told. I'm sure Senek and Sujek have already told you all about me."
Silijima chuckled nervously. "Not much, actually. I've been wondering where you got that arm from; it seems very high tech. I've only seen prosthetics like that on high ranking military personnel in the federation."
The question only seemed to make Sargen even more tense. "I lost my real arm in battle. They replaced it with this." He flexed the arm, the prosthetic was agile and precise in its movements. "It's near identical to the real thing utility-wise, although the look of it took some time to get used to."
Silijima nodded absentmindedly, admiring both the arm and his physical build. Sargen must've been through hell and back to be so torn up.
"Are you ex-military? You have the hardware to be."
Sargen frowned lightly. "You could say that. But that's enough about me." Then Sargen put a soft smile on his face, a fake one, as if he was trying to hide his true feelings. "I was told you served in the navy; what was that like?"
Silijima didn't push for more information. "I was a Master Technical Coordinator for the Unwavering Credence. I kept the Guns and the hull functioning along with crews of grunt welders, and I pieced the ship back together after battles.
Sargen whistled, impressed by her rank. "You were pretty high up on the totem pole on that ship. Why'd you leave?"
Silijima scoffed. "The lies, the brutality, and the stress. I came to Skhamar looking for answers after losing faith in the state I defended for over a decade. Now that I know the truth, I realize that I hated every second of it, although I do miss it in a way. Once you get out, well, nothing seems right. For the first few months, I couldn't stand being off duty. I still miss that safety of knowing I was on a military vessel; at least we could defend ourselves. Back on Nishtal, I felt so… exposed, since I wasn't allowed to carry a firearm on my person anymore."
Sargen chuckled. "I know how you feel. I couldn't sleep right after I… left: I kept expecting an attack at all hours. Sometimes I'd wake up in a panic, clutching my ion pistol and ready to kill, only to realize it was just the sound of some puny asteroid bouncing off the outer shell of the station or a ship taking off."
Silijima snorted. "I remember nearly having a heart attack from the fireworks they set off for unification day. My parents didn't understand, or maybe they couldn't, but I don't celebrate that day anymore. It sounds too similar to Arxur hybrid charges slamming against the hull of a ship."
Silijima chuckled at first, but the laughter quickly died as reality set in. Her service in the navy had messed her up in more ways than one, but she couldn't imagine not living that life; she wouldn't know what to do with herself otherwise. She hated it, but she was better for it.
"So… What is there to do on this station? I'm pretty new to all of this freedom. What is there to do?"
"That's the good thing about this job; you get a good week or so in between missions to relax," Sargen smiled bitterly, but it was still a happy smile, "Me and the rest of the crew have so much to show you."
Silijima's heart skipped a beat at his statement. "Senek didn't seem too excited to show me anything."
"Senek's just tired; in fact he's always tired. He worked two missions in a row, same as Sujek, and they're probably going to push for another one," Sargen stated, "although I bet both Ayaz and Igor will send them both home and tell them to spend some time just relaxing for once since those two practically kill themselves working." He chuckled before continuing, "But as for things to do, well, there's a lot: Theaters, Restaurants, Museums, a full-sized futbol stadium, and even a few more exotic things the humans brought over. Humans are kind of the cultural heart of the entire Commonwealth; The big Arxur houses might be the dominant economic forces besides the coalitions, but the Humans really brought a heart and soul to what would otherwise be a pretty dull and barren place."
Silijima thought about that for a moment. She had seen sporting events before; Nishtal had plenty of ballastier stadiums to choose from, where Krakotl would work as a flock to move a floating ball from one end to the other. There were also games of airborne agility and such, so she wasn't too interested in sports.
But the idea of a theater intrigued her. Nishtal didn't have many theaters: the Krakotl didn't like being cooped up in a dark place for too long, since their instincts were to nest under the open sky instead of burrow underground. Mix that with a lack of any big theater culture and you git a species that vastly preferred doing over watching. Sports and music were far more popular with the Krakotl, their ability to fly and vast vocal ranges helping them flourish in alternative mediums of entertainment.
"How are the theaters here? I've never really gone to one before."
Sargen eyed her with disbelief. "Neither did I before I came here. They're pretty great, with lots of cheap snacks and reclining seats. There aren't any 'new' movies yet since there's no real movie industry here on Skhamar yet, but they play a lot of older human movies. A few months ago I went with Timothy, Sarah, and their daughter Maggie to go see The Tale of the Princess Kaguya. The art style was pretty mind-blowing, to say the least."
"The art style?"
"Animation. It's considered a proper medium of theater in human culture. There are a plethora of what humans call 'the animated classics': movies that have achieved universal human acclaim due to their outstanding quality. If I'm not mistaken, The Tale of the Princess Kaguya is one of them."
Human art seemed so fascinating to her; the Federation was so cut and dry with what they considered art that anything that pushed the envelope was ridiculed and even reviled, often only gaining traction in underground groups that appreciated the bizarre and the condemned. To hear of artistic styles having entire mediums dedicated to them was astounding to her.
"That sounds incredible! What other movies have you seen?"
"Well, I've been itching to see Star Wars, but it's a long trilogy that's best watched at home. There's also a relatively new western by comparison called The Cursed that's being shown this week, so we can go see that. I've heard nothing but good things about it."
Silijima didn't know what a 'western' was, but if it was anything like how Sargen describes their animated movies, she was sure a human western couldn't be bad.
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Silijima casually read the synopsis for the movie they would be watching on her holophone.
The year is 1886: Aging civil war veteran turned outlaw Thomas 'Death-Singer' Lawrence ekes out a humble living amongst the Ojibwa Indians of what is now modern-day Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Michigan, hoping to live out his final years of his life with his beloved wife, son and adopted tribe in peace. But when a bitter ex-Confederate, Klan member, and son of a wealthy plantation owner Shaw Cunningham and his gang of killers massacre the tribe for supporting the Union during the war, his entire world is torn from him. Now, all that's left after the carnage is himself and a teenager named Nanabush, the fatherless black sheep of the tribe.
Now, with nothing but vengeance burning in his heart, Thomas once again takes up the mantle of 'Death-Singer', and along with his newly adopted ward Nanabush, he travels south to reform his old gang of thieves and outlaws, 'The Cursed', in a last-ditch effort to gain the ultimate revenge and both kill Shaw Cunningham and ruin his family fortune. The curse must be passed on, and there couldn't be a more worthy recipient…
Now that sounded interesting. Silijima didn't understand much of the context, but a revenge plot wasn't a common theme in Federation media, or federation art at all for that matter, so it seemed like a great place to start. Besides, it wasn't like it was real, so if it was overly violent then she could just finish the movie and never watch it again.
But first, there were snacks to buy. Silijima didn't know why Sargen insisted on buying snacks, but he stated that they 'improved the movie experience', or whatever that meant. Either way, he practically dragged Silijima up to a counter operated by a bored human, preparing to order a whole slew of snacks for the both of them.
"I'll get two medium boxes of Çäkçäk style popcorn, a large bag of Korivka, and two large bottles of… Give me a moment." Sargen turned to her. "What do you want to drink?"
Silinima browsed the menu nervously, not knowing what to choose. "Uhhh, I guess I'll try some Baikal? Is it good?"
Sargen shrugged. "It's pretty good, a bit different than most colas." Then he turned back to the snack vendor. "And two large bottles of Baikal."
The bored human sighed, obviously just ready for his shift to end, and prepared the food for the two of them. Sargen prepared his credit chip and handed it to the worker when he returned, paying for everything.
"You don't have to, Sargen, I can pay for myself."
Sargen chuckled. "Maybe, but I'm the one who's taking you out. Just let me take care of it."
The human returned with the popcorn, which was two buckets of strange yellow… things that had a slight glowing orange sheen, along with a large bag of candies and two massive bottles of soda, which were also huge. Sargen somehow deftly balanced all the snacks in their arms as they made their way to the movie room they were assigned to without even a grunt and gave her a soft grin. Despite his obvious optimism, he seemed tense, as if she reminded him of something.
Sargen hurried down the hall, his large stride making it difficult for Silijima to keep up with him, but she managed. He avoided her gaze, his eyes focusing on absolutely anything else. There it was again, the strange behavior. It was as if she was some kind of phantom to him, but he couldn't point out her existence without seeming crazy.
They made their way into a door on the side that led down a dark hall with dim lights lining the floor. It opened up to a massive screen showing adverts for products before the movie began.
"Where would you like to sit? I'm partial to the back; you get better seats and a better view."
Silijima shrugged her feathered shoulders. "Wherever you think is best; I have no clue."
Sargen chuckled, but led her up toe stairs to the upper row of seats. They made it there, sitting down near the center, and Sargen handed Silijima her popcorn and baikal. Silijime pecked at the popcorn hesitantly, but found that she loved it! The sweet, nutty and floral flavors of the coating reminded her of the Vagra nectar from Nishtal when peddlers would sell organic jars of it during the summer months, and it paired wonderfully with the salty-sweet crunch of the 'corn' itself. The baikal was another thing entirely; the sweet-spicy and pine flavors of the cola tasted like nothing she had ever experienced like fruit and spices boiled in bitter tree sap and carbonated, but palatable. By the time the movie had started, a third of her popcorn was gone, causing Sargen to chuckle.
The lights dimmed, causing Silijima to panic for a bit, but Sargen's hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder, calming her. He was there, and he was big; nothing could hurt such a giant, right?
Then, the movie began to play. The sound of some kind of delicate stringed instrument being strummed softly alongside the croaking and chirping of amphibians and insects on a warm summer night. The sounds of the wildlife stopped suddenly for a moment, as did the instrument when a small gang of about a dozen humans riding strange, four-legged creatures reminiscent of suleans without horns advanced towards a gathering of flickering lights in the distance; probably a village. Their gallops were thunderous and destructive, nothing like the sound of a stampede. It was the sound of unwavering strength.
The men wore sackcloth hoods with holes cut out for their eyes and ropes around their necks. In their hands were primitive revolving handguns. They wore a myriad of different clothes; some wore gray army uniforms, while others wore khakis, union shirts and suspenders. They laughed and bickered as they spurred their steeds onward, obviously ready to commit some unspeakable atrocity…
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Silijima has two panic attacks during the movie. Sargen was there, able to quell them by offering his support. He seemed to know what it was like to have one because he reached out and held her when she began to hyperventilate and raise her hackles. He didn't speak, but he made himself known. He was there, and that was enough.
At least the movie ended with a triumph: Thomas Lawrence got his revenge, even if he died in the end. His adopted ward, Nanabush, took up the mantle of Death-Singer, using it to defend the weak. It was a tightly wrapped story that should've been happy, but the memories of war still scarred Silijima; the sounds of the gunshots reminded her of the blasts of flechette cannons, and the blood on Lawrence's knife…
She still felt the phantom pain in her wing and body from being run through by an Arxur skimming blade. She had survived, of course, but the near-death experience had permanently changed her. She couldn't stand being around knives too long unless she was actually on the battlefield, and even then it caused her distress. Luckily, she never needed to be around too many sharp objects, being an engineer, but she had her… moments. She was able to quell her attacks, her panic and anxiety being quelled by the far more substantial fear of what she would be subjected to if her true state of mind were to be found out.
If the Federation found out you acted out of the norm, they'd spend weeks forcing you through the most agonizing 'therapies' before stuffing you full of pills and sending you home, never to be the same person again. She had seen the effects of these treatments; her former colleagues practically turned into zombies, their brains melted from the drugs. They lived off of government stipends, unable to truly contribute to the workforce, but the Federation seemed to consider this an acceptable tradeoff, the politicians being praised for lowering the rate of self-termination by any means necessary. In reality, it just created a state-funded drug epidemic.
Part of Silijima did want answers, but she realized her true motive for coming to Skhamar was to escape; she was so scared of staying home on Nishtal because every little thing could set her off. And if she were to have a serious enough outburst…
No, she wouldn't become what many of her former prey-in-arms had; a babbling mess of drugs and trauma. She was strong; she could do this. She wouldn't let her trauma overcome her.
"Are you okay, Silijima?" Sargent asked her, shaking her shoulder lightly. They were in the truck, riding to the Corsair collective where Ayaz and Igor had docked their cruiser. He seemed far more tired than before like she was exhausting to be around. She didn't doubt it; having predator disease was already exhausting enough for Silijima alone.
"I shouldn't have recommended that movie, it was too violent. Maybe something animated would've been better," said Sargent. "I was hoping that your experiences as a navy engineer would've been less traumatic than the average foot soldier, and I was wrong."
Silijima turned to him, emboldened. "It wasn't your fault, Sagren; I agreed to watch it. Besides, it might've opened up a few wounds, but it was still an excellent movie. And the popcorn and baikal were wonderful as well. And besides, it was a good movie, triggers notwithstanding."
Sargen smiled a little, although he was still feeling guilty. "I'm glad you liked it. But we should get to the collective; Ayaz and Igor will be happy to become acquainted with you."
Silijima nodded before turning back to the window, watching as the city raced by. The spires of the station-city rose hundreds of stories into the air, hover-tram systems connecting entire levels of platforms that connected to the taller towers. It made sense that the station would focus on the height of buildings; the width was a rare commodity on space stations due to the cost of adding extra floor-level infrastructure, so extremely tall spires interconnected by platforms and hover-tram systems that stretched for kilometers made sense. Everything was brightly lit: massive glowing LED signs depicting everything from clinics and dispensaries to shops and eateries were plastered across the buildings, along with almost lifelike and three-dimensional digital billboards depicting a wide array of advertisements and entertainment. It was the very definition of an urban jungle, sprawl and all, with tens of millions of individuals living their daily lives unimpeded.
"The station's pretty cool, huh? It's technically one of the larger cities in the galaxy, with a population of around twenty-five million inhabitants of all races."
That number was impressive for a city, but not for a nation. "But how many planets does Skhamar control? Fifty-five million is nothing compared to the five hundred billion sentients in the Federation alone."
Sargen nodded. "Yeah, that's true. Antheia and Calaïs are pretty sparsely populated at the moment, maybe a few million each, and the planet of Skhamar itself has about ten million. That means this place doesn't really have the manpower to keep up with the Federation or the Dominion in terms of fleet size. We still beat them in engagements though."
Silijima didn't believe that. "But how? The Federation outnumbers you guys a hundred to one!"
Sargen snorted, eyes focused on the road as he pulled into the parking lot of a ginormous building. "If there's one thing that I learned after only two years of living on Skhamar is that the Federation's school of naval doctrine is laughably bad. They solely rely on the force of numbers and firepower to overwhelm their enemies before they can strike back. This would normally work on smaller fleet engagements against lesser foes, but the humans don't play fair. They hide in gas clouds, and in asteroid fields. They launch silent torpedoes, drone strikes, and shells filled with toxic gas before initiating boarding actions to cause widespread panic in enemy fleets. Skhamar's newly minted traditions of piracy have led to a whole new level of Naval military thinking, one where the entire sector is an ever-changing battlefield and anything's fair game."
"But wouldn't they get discovered? How hasn't the Federation just listed down Skhamar's tactics for admirals to memorize and quantify in fleet engagements?"
"You're demanding too much from a Federation full of scared herbivores, and you're forgetting who runs that Federation. The Kolshians and the Farsul vehemently believe that thinking like a predator makes you a predator and that anything that resembles predatory behavior should be scrubbed away. To them, the 'herd' is the entire reason for their existence, and to stray from that is to become food." Sargen shook his head, obviously bemused by their rigid mindset. "In reality, predators have been chipping away at herds for thousands of years. To think that any herd is impervious is just stupid."
Silijima knew the former, and she had suspected the latter for a long time. "But herds need to adapt to survive, right? I bet you that was the reasoning behind the gene-modding and culture erasure at the hands of the Kolshians and the Farsul."
Sargen rolled his eyes like he had heard it all before. "It shocks me that you weren't thrown into an institution, with how perceptive you are. I'm telling you, the Kolshians and the Farsul couldn't care less about the other species in the Federation. All they care about is controlling and leading that herd they've stitched together with lies. To them, adaptability is only good when it benefits their narratives and power structures."
It made a sickening sort of sense, and it was completely believable now that the treachery of the Kolshians and the Farsul had come to light. The Kolshians and the Farsul being afraid of any change that challenged their ideals was a cancer on the Federation, and one that Silijima was sure would eat away at it until it was nothing more than a corpse. "I'm glad I left, you know, not being afraid of being locked up for having predator disease. I just hope that isn't a thing here."
"It isn't, believe me, or I would've been incarcerated a long time ago." Sargen replied, "Now let's go; I think we've wasted enough of Ayaz and Igor's time."
With that, Sargen stepped out of the truck, slamming the door and taking a deep breath of the blatantly recycled air. Silijima followed, leaving the truck and stepping out into a small, empty parking lot, which seemed strange for such a large and important building. The building itself was less of a spire and more short and squat but also very wide, with glass walls similar to those of the urban business centers on Nishtal. There was an entrance of glass doors in the front of the building, along with a massive sigil above them made out of what seemed to be platinum. There was a sword with wings skillfully engraved on it, along with the words Qui militat præter me, frater meus erit surrounding the edges. Her translator struggled to translate it due to the age of the language and her translator's lack of exposure to the esoteric language, but it came out as something similar to He who fights beside me shall be my brother. An interesting term, but certainly more unique than the Federation Navy's slogan, Defend the Herd.
Sargen grabbed her feathered shoulder and steered her away from the truck just as something hovered down and clamped its magnetic claws onto it. A massive, black-colored hover-drone the size of an eighteen-wheeler buzzed as it deftly floated around the two of them, one giant crimson eye with an LED dot acting as an almost animated pupil darting between the two of them. Then it lifted away, making beeping noises as it carried the truck in tow towards a large tower several hundred stories tall in the distance made from a monotonous gray material. "What in sweet Ina's name?" Silijima said under her breath, causing Sargen to chuckle.
"Moth Drones; they’re very useful things. There's not enough space on the station to have traditional parking lots, so Sarn Robotics found a pretty neat solution: massive drones come and pick up vehicles and transport them to large parking towers like the one it's flying to right now. Then, when we come back, I can just call back for my car, maybe wait a minute or so, and have my car returned to me. It's pretty awesome, and something you wouldn't find in a million years in the Federation."
That was true; the citizens would be spooked by so many flying objects. She could just imagine the number of stampedes such a creation would cause.
"Wait, what about the food and ammo?" She asked, curious as to why he'd leave it there."
"Oh, don't worry about that: that tower specifically has an automated storage system. All of our goods will be sent to our ship in the next few hours sorted, packed up, and sealed up in space-grade storage containers"
"Huh, that's pretty incredible," she replied.
"Yeah, it is. Like them or not, these predators seem to think of everything. I guess their minds just work differently; nothing wrong with that."
They walked through the doors as they conversed, and a massive lobby greeted them. Over two dozen secretaries of multiple races greeted countless individuals, many of them armed. Most of them were humans and Arxur, although she spotted a few Harchens and Gojids in the mix. The sound of phones ringing and computer keyboards being typed on resonated through the building with an echo. The entire lobby was beautifully decorated, with corners filled with fine gold-trimmed mahogany furniture and intricately woven carpets covering the marble floor. Sargen guided her up to the lobby and towards a young human wan with blonde hair. He greeted her with a smile, causing her to smile back. The snarl made Silijima's blood rush, but it was far less noticeable now, more like the feeling of adrenaline than pure fear.
"Hey, Csilla, how are you?"
The woman, apparently named Csilla, seemed to brighten up in Sargen's presence. "Oh, you know, just swamped as usual. Igor is waiting for you at dock thirteen, just take the tram down." Then her eyes swiveled in there sockets towards Silijima, causing her to flinch slightly. "And who is this? I didn't know a Krakotl was joining your crew."
"I'm Silijima," Silijima croaked, "I'm the new Engineer."
"Aww, isn't she just precious? It's been a pleasure to see you both, but I have to get back to work; we've got too many customers even with two dozen secretaries."
And with that, they were off. Sargen led her up multiple flights of stairs, passing different office levels before reaching floor seven, which was the connection to the Dok-stantsiya Vest-Enda. There were at least two dozen fully sized trans on multiple levels, with signs detailing over a hundred docks available to travel to. It was truly ginormous, more insane than any public transit system she had seen all packed into one place, but also a testament to the engineering of the station.
They boarded a packed train filled mainly with humans, although there were Arxur, Gojids and Harchen there sprinkled throughout. They rode for a few minutes, before reaching an open-space area sealed with active magnetic field shielding, keeping gravity and a working atmosphere within its borders while simultaneously allowing ships to pass through. There were hundreds of ships, both big and small, docked within the Corsair Coalition's docks, and some of them were exceptionally huge. They ranged from gigantic, rust-red lengths of bulbous metal covered in cannons to sleek, flat warships packed with rocket pods and covered with graffiti of snarling, gaping maws and bloodied talons. Eventually, they reached a point where their tram stopped, and they descended. Just a few dozen meters away was a younger human, maybe in his late twenties or early thirties, an old human woman who couldn't have been younger than seventy, and an Arxur practically made out of cybernetics, his body glowing with energy. The latter seemed to be organizing and directing a small number of droids, which were loading sealed containers into the fuselage of the large, rust-red battle cruiser with the word Iconoclast printed in bold letters on the side. The man saw us and approached, a wide smile on his face.
He was huge for a human, about six and a half feet, and had a long, bushy beard with a handlebar mustache, a short military buzz cut with a bit of hair left a little taller near the middle like a short mohawk, and a pair of black camo pants and a white t-shirt that showed the outline of his muscles underneath. He was practically a bear of a human, with arms the size of bridge cables and a neck thicker than your average gas pipe.
Despite all of that, he was obviously friendly, a wide snarl on his face. "Sargen! Dobriy den, how are you?" Even through the translator, his accent was thick and exotic.
Sargen scratched his head with his claws, obviously a little nervous. "I'm doing great, Igor, listen, this is-"
"Ah, yes, Silijima! Senek called me on his way home to explain their situation. It is a pleasure to meet you, my dear!"
Igor took her wing and shook it vigorously, having to bend down to do so. Having and snarling predator lean down on her in such a way, regardless of their intentions, sent shivers down her spine, but she kept it together. She would not break down in front of her new boss.
"T-the pleasure is all mine, Sir."
Igor didn't seem to notice how intimidating he was, but luckily a distraction appeared. Tarlim arrived just in time, carrying several crates of birch water and plums on his shoulders like they were nothing. The old woman seemed to spot him, because she hobbled over to help, only for Tarlim to prevent her from doing so. "No, Babushka, I can handle it."
"Nonsense," she said sternly, her accent even thicker than Igor's, "I can carry some, boy; your Babushka is not helpless."
Tarlim simply ignored her, carrying the crates over to the droids, with both Tarlim and the Arxur snickering at Babushka's pestering.
"Tarlim, what do you bring? Did I order something and forget again?"
Tarlim chuckled merely at that. "No, Babushka, Sujek ordered some Birch Water and Plums for you."
Babushka softened up at that, placing a hand over her heart like the delivery of birch water was an emotional matter. "Oh Tarlim, I thank you." She hobbled over and practically buried herself in his fur, hugging him as hard as an old woman could.
"Thank Sujek, I'm just the delivery boy."
Babushka snorted. "Hah, I know better. You probably dared him to do something for it."
Tarlim blushed at that. "Well maybe, but he demanded the plums as extra, so make sure you give him a big hug and plenty of food as well."
Babushka seemed to brighten up at that. "Come in, Tarlim; we are having a feast, to celebrate a great victory! No meat in the borscht, just for you!"
"Tarlim seemed very apprehensive towards the idea of eating anything that was even near the meat, but apparently he couldn't resist the old woman. "For you, Babushka, anything for you."
Igor snickered. "They are like a circus, no? Come, we are having a feast, and you shall partake."
Silijima wanted to leave, as the whole situation had escalated very quickly, but Sargen placed a hand on her shoulder. "There is no denying an invitation to a feast; it is a grave insult to do so."
Silijima just sighed and prepared herself for the horrors that awaited her.
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It's finally here; THE NEXT CHAPTER OF INTERLOPER! Somebody pop open a bottle of champaign.
I want to thank u/Acceptable_Egg5560 for the support and u/Bushbacon69 for the wonderful fanart.
If you want an AI generated picture, just let me know. That's become my new method of conveying what I'm creating to the world since I can't draw for shit.
The Next chapters for Chains made from Hope and The Apostate should be out this week, along with a new short called The Life Shaper.