We Need a Deathworlder!

“Welcome back to the world of the living.” Ember greets as she turns around to face the prone redhead.

Sharra’s smirk lessens slightly from the developing pain coursing through ‘her’ body. The armor’s medical response systems are clearly limited to preserving life until the proper attention is received. Even the pain numbing features seems to have its unfortunate limitations.

“This body is dying.” She says in a voice that she only heard in incoherent mental corners.

The male Manarian’s tail gently scoots under and takes hold over her back before lifting her up in a puppeteered ‘standing’ position.

“We have a proper body awaiting for you to inhabit.” he informs, “It is an honor to meet you, esteemed scientist.”

Grunting from the discomfort of hanging, Sharra nods in acknowledgement.

“I take it my work has not been squandered?” she chuckled through the pain.

“It has laid the groundwork for our Empire’s Grand Destiny. You will no doubt return to become the highest station under your mother, High Matriarch Mresaunia.” the male informs with an unhidden excitement.

“High Matriarch?” Sharra asks in surprise, “She has done well for herself as well it seems.”

“She has benefited greatly from her position as the Keeper of Knowledge.” the male agrees.

“I see… then who are you?” Sharra asks with intrigue.

Removing his helmet, the male Manarian exposes his entire head and flaps his wings, keeping them open to show off his admittedly beautiful patterns.

“I am Lorrik, son of Patriarch Rookthra. A humble sized family, but one with close ties to-” he introduces before he’s interrupted.

“My aunt Matriarch Nairaa’s family.” Sharra finished for him with a direct stare, already seeing where the smirking male was intending to steer the conversation, “So, in exchange for my proper resurrection, I take it you plan on courting me for a litter to raise your station?” she figures.

Seemingly not surprised at all that she caught on to his very unsubtle exposure of his wings, his smirk deepens.

“Indeed, but of course those discussions can happen after you are given your new body. You must feel deaf while in that ape.” Lorrik says as he carries the hanging Sharra closer to Ember.

“That is not inaccurate. I must admit, it will be quite the experience to finally exchange words with this ape once we are separated.” Sharra muses, though she immediately notices Ember’s posture stiffens slightly, “Unless…”

“In a matter of minutes Simone will be rendered… nonexistent.” Ember reveals, “Well, she would exist about as much as you did, however with no method of proper ‘storage’ since you’re assuming her brain as your own. Whatever remains after fading away or that you don’t overwrite, will die once that body does. It may have been different, if she had only complied. All that potential… now wasted.”

Sharra contemplates on that grim end for the ape that she was ‘stored’ in.

“I’m… surprised on several fronts. Though most of all I am wondering… how was I planted in this Terran in the first place? I remember copying my consciousness and sending it out with the final encoding. Clearly the encoding found its way to the Empire, but I don’t see why this was the established plan for my return.” she questions.

Ember is silent for a few moments before presenting her explanation.

“That is because this was all my doing. You and the encoding indeed made it to the Empire’s reaches, however, a Patriarch that was interested in increasing his own future standing held onto you in secret for a long time. He was hoping to bring you back or trade you for when the prime opportunity for himself was presented.” she starts to explain.

“It was my father’s father, Patriarch Roltik. Before he could use you to his own ends my father challenged him for the Patriarch position and claimed victory. You spent quite a few generations forgotten in storage before I came across you and… I admittedly inherited my grandfather’s plan once I realized what and who you were. However… I had no method of resurrecting you. Since many would come down on me to acquire you for the glory of bringing you back to the Empire, I sought out discrete assistance from Nairaa’s pet project.” Lorrik says before gesturing a hand towards Ember.

“I kept you secure until I was granted the necessary resources and the time was right to bring you back.” Ember informed, “I initially intended on cloning you a body far sooner, however there were… complications. Your copied data was partially corrupted and in a state of derogation. From the nature of Manarian technology, if I was to try and bring you back directly from it, you would have likely started your revived existence in either a permanent coma, or a crazed incoherent consciousness. So in interest of not waiting until it was too late, we needed to repair, reconstruct or replace what had been corrupted. Which was… outside my capability. However, I had an epiphany upon the discovery that I was pregnant. I could develop your consciousness from the fetal stage and allow you to organically regrow into yourself while gradually introducing your old uncorrupted consciousness in stages.”

Sharra narrows her eyes, almost impressed by how convoluted and unnecessary that whole explanation seems to her.

Clearly, this Ember individual is not well on some level.

“Then… why wasn’t I implanted into a developing Manarian pup?” she asks.

“That was the plan. With my direct involvement, the Rebirth Combine even built an entire station facility with the intent to develop you in that manner.” Ember said before seeming to stare Sharra down directly through her helmet, “But then a thought came to me… knowing Manarian culture as well as I do, I doubted your gratitude would be enough to return the favor. So, I endured that I had my own leverage for when this time came.”

Sharra nods, starting to see what Ember is getting at.

“I see… So you placed me within yourself, or rather your unborn pup, to hold leverage over me for a proper body. Not the most optimal or reasonable way to do it, but here I am at your mercy I suppose. Let me guess, you wish to strike a bargain for my protection from the rest of the Empire. Perhaps even use my station to keep your people higher up above all other servants after the Empire completes their destined conquering of the stars?”

Sharra can feel the smile forming under Ember’s helmet.

“All that, and…” she says as she makes a presenting gesture towards the podium.

Sharra reconsizes it immediately.

“You acquired yourself a declaration beacon? Or more likely, you found yourself in a place with one established and are currently committing a vile crime against the Empire’s honor?”

“The latter, I’ll freely admit.” Ember confirms as she presses her hand down on the podium to no effect, “The prime window for the invasion I’ve worked so hard for is starting to pass. The Empire’s appraising forces are seeing that and are possibly inclined to report that the galaxy is not yet ready for invasion. I cannot risk that or lose this opportunity for me and my people. The Empire will one day return and without the well prepared red carpet then Terrans will be subject to the same low servant class that the rest of the species are fated for. I refuse to let that happen. Not after everything I’ve done.” her helmet faces Sharra directly again, “There’s a very short list of Manarians who are bestowed the knowledge of how to use these podiums. You, the woman who encoded the galaxy, are one of them.”

Sharra tilts her head, looking back and forth between Ember and Lorrik, seeing that the male holds no hint of objection. He seems to be fully on board as long as he gets what he wants out of this.

“And you expect me to do so in exchange for a new body and high station within the Empire?” she inquires as she considers it.

“And a strong litter to cement and carry on your legacy…” Lorrik thrums in flirtatious promises.

“And what of my first litter? My remaining pup?” she counters, wishing she still had her own thrum.

“If he survives the efforts of retrieval, he will be returned to you.” Ember assures a bit too quickly.

“If that ends up not coming to pass, rest assured my past litters have been tremendously successful. No instances of stillbirths as well.” Lorrik adds.

“How did you know-” Sharra starts to say, but shakes her head, “Well, that’s certainly reassuring.”

“Regardless, you will be able to live and thrive off of your accomplishments. It will be up to you whether to lay back and bask in your well earned honor, or continue on to your next great accomplishment. All you need to do is to enact the long awaited and inevitable invasion. Honestly, who else is more appropriate to do so?” Ember encourages.

“I cannot deny that my pride disagrees…” Sharra utters as she nods slowly, after a few more moments of consideration she comes to terms with a decision, “Bring me to the podium.”

Without hesitation, but still with care, Lorrik does as instructed and carries the woman over to the waist-high device.

Sharra raises her hand to it, but pauses. She accidentally used the ape’s replaced mechanical arm. Turning it in place, she looks it over momentarily while testing its functionality. It may still work for the podium, but best not risk it.

Using the mechanical hand, she removes her flesh hand’s gauntlet. Similarly, she finds herself staring at the hand as she moves it as her own.

“You’ve made an accomplishment that I’d argue rivals my own. Perhaps not in a scientific field of course… but still, you have my respect. But, even if you didn’t, you have my sincere thanks. My pup is safe because of you, ape. I… I wish there’s another path forward, but I must do what I have to, for Jamie.” she inwardly thinks before pressing her hand down on the podium.

In an instant, her conscious mind links to a digital space constructed by her people for operating grand devices. Back upon earning her right to be able to use and dwell within such spaces, she’s ‘seen’ something much like this.

Considering her consciousness isn’t starting to be immediately obliterated by the built-in security systems, her credentials indeed seem to be upheld despite her death long ago. Perhaps it was a way to honor her achievements.

Around her perceptions she ‘see’s that she stands in the center of a pearly white void with a vague depiction of a circular floor constructed of golden light.

In front of her is an identical podium to the physical one, except it has pulsing technological veins of light carrying the pulses down into the floor.

Pulling her now Manarian represented hand up from it, a web of command strings stretches up following her digital appendage.

All she has to do is pluck at a single one for everything to begin and end.

Suddenly, there’s a slight dimming of the environment as the security response kicks in.

Looking up from the web, Sharra is genuinely shocked to see a disintegrating vague Terran form moving towards her.

It looks as though it’s forcing itself to wade against a torrenting water current. The person’s body shreds apart as flicks of itself rise up above it, as though burning away from the inside out.

Yet even as its form gradually erodes away with every labored step, it continues its march towards the center with nothing but sheer determination and willpower.

“Simone…” Sharra realizes in genuine pity, before raising her hand up, “There’s no need for that.”

With no effort at all, the ape’s form is instantaneously evaporated, the dim state disappears as well, seemingly satisfied.

Shaking her head, Sharra quickly puts a claw to a strand. Although it feels to her that she takes a while to do so, she plucks it relatively quickly.

The area around her flashes a light of red in acknowledgement to the plucked thread.

Pulling herself out of the digital realm and back into the material -pain feeling- world, Sharra sighs out in disbelief of what she just did.

“It’s done.” she says to the two others in confirmation.

Ember places a hand on her chest in tremendous relief.

“It’s done…” she echos as she basks in finally achieving the ultimate victory.

Certainly there’s much work to be done ahead to secure her and her people’s place in the coming Empire, but that will be trivial by comparison to the trials she had to navigate up to this point.

Lorrik chuckles out a prideful thrum at the news.

“Excellent! And so begins the days of truly achieving the Manarian’s Grand Destiny.” he declares in awe of being able to see the day that his people have long awaited for. Hundreds of thousands of years… if not more, and he is among the first to oversee the glory.

“Indeed… As agreed, Sharra, let’s get you to that new body.” Ember proposes, repressing an emerging giddy euphoria.

“One tangent in need of addressing first.” Sharra insists to the helmeted ape before turning to the male Manarian, “Before I receive that body, let me assess the male who may put it to the test. Your wings are beautiful, Lorrik, that is undeniable, but if I have daughters I need to see if they’ll inherit any decent face and body patterns.”

Raising his long eye tufts, the male eagerly pulls the bleeding and dying Terran body close to his.

“Don’t fret about that. As you can see,” he turns his head side to side to show off a few of his small sharp angular spots that gradually fade as they near his face, “I am not lacking. In any aspect…” he flirtatiously growls.

Skeptically, Sharra raises her hands up to inspect the patterns herself, to which the male approves of. Perhaps only in tolerance to impress her, but still.

“These are impressive… If I recall, your grandfather’s were not as even… it seems your father encountered a perfect mate for this result…” she mumbles as she gently brushes her flesh hand across his sensitive plume, causing him to thrum in sensual approval, “Such a shame, really…”

The male furrowed his brow.

“Wh-” his lips utters before a spike explodes out of the top of his head.

His concerned offended eyes immediately go dark from all life before his form topples over.

Sharra manages to retract the spike back into her mechanical arm and land on her feet uneasily. Not used to the way a Terran is balanced she purposefully backsteps to the podium to lean against it.

In complete shock, Ember stares at the dead Manarian for a few seconds, giving Sharra time to reach a console screen.

“Why…? Was there something I didn’t know? Something I missed?” the helmeted woman uttered in disbelief.

“Yes. The fact that I sent the signal that the galaxy is not yet primed or suitable for the invasion.” Sharra replies as she navigates the screen quickly for a single feature, “There will be no invasion, not yet.”

Slowly as though boiling in unfettered rage, Ember’s helmet turns up to face the unimaginable traitor.

“WHY!?” she screams in a manner that her helmet’s vocal projection struggles with.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m still loyal to the Empire. It is indeed inevitable that it will arrive and claim victory over the stars. I’ve died in service to ensure that would come to pass.” Sharra explains rather casually before finding what she’s looking for, “But unlike you, I’m more loyal to my only child… I knew he would not survive the Empire’s society, so I planned on keeping him a safe secret until I was in a place where no one could challenge me. But that’s not possible anymore, not for who he is now. I won’t take his happiness from him, I refuse. He will live his life to its fullest and… I can’t give that to him…” Sharra’s hand hovers over an indicator, to which Ember lurches to stop her, “But I can happily die again for him.”

Tears falling from her borrowed emerald eyes, Sharra presses the indicator.

Ember snatches the hand and yanks it away just as the redhead’s body begins to collapse towards the ground. But in a sudden snap into action, the seized arm strikes up and grips itself tightly against Ember’s throat.

Catching her balance in a kneeling position, Simone blinks up at the monster in her grasp.

“You… Bitch…” she shakily says through gritted teeth.

Ember attempts to pull out her sidearm, but Simone, fueled by blinding white rage, stands up and yanks the weapon free before casting it aside.

The helmeted woman has no chance to plead or throw a curse as she’s lifted off the ground while Simone fully stands up.

“Hey mom… long time no see…” the redhead growls as her mother squirms for air, “You have no idea how much I want to make you suffer right now… put you on death's door just to drag you back from it to do it again. I know every way to torture a person… and yet even if I did each one to you twice over it would not come close to evening the score. So, lucky you, I’m not going to waste my time… for long.”

Simone hammers her robotic fist into Ember’s gut, firing shallow spikes that inject flaming gel.

Ember’s throat tenses to violently scream out in tremendous agony, but Simone’s grip keeps it all contained.

Blades eject out of Ember’s boot toes and kick wildly at the armored Terran holding her internally cooking body aloft. But even in the softer areas the blades struggle to even puncture though. She gets a few jabs in Simone’s already hamburger’ed gut, but Simone can’t feel it.

“That’s for being an insane fascist.” Simone informs before reeling her fist back and casting it right above her last blow.

Striking true, her mechanical fist repeats the flame injection.

“That’s for brainwashing and endangering so many people I care about…” Simone states before once again slamming her fist in the narrow spot between the last two.

Ember’s body spasms as more unimaginable pain enters and consciousness begins to leave.

Simone’s lips quiver as her rage shifts.

“And that’s for dad!” she roars out in a brutal cry as she repeatedly strikes her mother over and over again in rapid unrelenting blasts of perpetually lit flame.

She doesn’t believe in hell, or even wishes that her mother would end up there somehow. Instead, she gives the full experience to her, the ‘eternal’ part being the only exception.

Eventually the woman’s bottom half separates as flesh is pulverized and incinerated.

Finally, Simone throws the upper remains aside, disregarding it like a stuffed trash bag.

Taking a few steps forward past the dropped remains, Simone kneels down to pick up her sword… but finds it incredibly too difficult to stand back up.

Not too bothered about her injuries finally catching up to her, she assures herself that she’s done enough… she just needs to wait for the others to catch up to her. They’ll take her to get medical attention.

They won… everything’s gonna be-

“Simone!?” A Cali’s voice speaks up through the comm.

“Y-yes hun?” the redhead responds in a rasp as droplets of blood escape her lips.

“I had to abandon the comm room, far too many Malchite. I escaped before I could be cornered, but… I’m afraid that didn’t last long… I need help. There’s nowhere else for me to go. Seymour’s trying to divert forces to my location, but says you have the fastest route here. He also told me the Manarians are retreating and the portals are closing, you did it! We did it! We just have to make it out now.”

“Yeah, I’m coming. What’s your situation like?” Simone responds before driving her will into her shaking legs to stand back up. It’s a shaky and slow process, but she manages.

“I’m… in some sort of food storage room. I’ve set up a barricade, but the door isn’t going to last long from the sounds of it.” Chak reports.

Simone nods, almost forgetting to verbalize her response.

“Stay brave, hun. Your Deathworlder wife is coming for ya.” she assures.

“Simone… are you alright? You sound… hurt.” Chak seems to finally realize.

“I’m a lil’ scuffed up. But I got one more mission in me.” Simone assures in a half efforted chuckle.

“Simone…I know that tone… are you okay? Really?” Chak utters in more concern for the redhead than herself.

“She is NOT okay!” Dave’s voice suddenly cut in.

Simone stops in her tracks.

“Dave…” she says in warning.

“I am getting live readings of your suit right now she-hulk, if you don’t hightail it back here pronto there’s nothing I’ll be able to do.” Dave asserts.

“Dave, thanks, but I’ve had worse. Nothing is gonna stop me from getting to Chak.” Simone lays out.

“Simone… I’ll be okay. I’ve survived this long, I can get back on my own. Go get medical attention, please.” Chak addresses Simone directly.

“Chak… I’m not gonna-” Simone starts to say before her wife cuts her off.

“I promise I’ll be okay! But I need you to be okay too. I’ll wait for an opening and run for it, or hold out until others get here, alright? Promise me you will go get medical attention.” the Cali says firmly.

The redhead looks down at her -admittedly terrifying- wounds before closing her eyes.

“Okay. I’ll do that.” she says.

“Promise me.” Chak insists.

“Only if you promise you’ll make it out of there.” Simone counters.

There’s a brief but noticeable pause.

“I promise.” Chak cries softly.

“Then I promise too.” Simone agrees.

“I love you, Simone.” the Cali says in the same soft tone.

“I can’t wait to be in your arms again.” Simone replies with a genuine smile, “Stay strong.”

“You too. I’ll contact you soon.” Chak assures before she leaves the comm call.

Simone stands there in silence for only a single standard second before going back to her comms.

“Seymour?” she says.

“Need the safest path to the Kwip-chap?” the A.I inquires expectantly.

“No. Give me a path to Chak’s location.” she orders without room for questioning.

“You have it. I’ll continue to lead others there as well.” Seymour responds.

“Dude!? Simone, what the hell bruh?” Dave interjects again, sounding genuinely pissed.

Simone pulls up the map, seeing that through the left door that there’s another elevator that leads into a lab, which is apparently near where Chak found herself.

Moving without hesitation, the redhead presses on to follow the map.

“Simone! Like, seriously! You gotta come back, this ain’t a joke! You’re gonna fucking die! Why now of all times can’t you trust Chak to pull through? You heard her!”

“Did you know Chak never really lies to me. Even in general she’s too honest for her own good.” Simone rasps as she passes through the doorway and into a less impressive place with a clear elevator door awaiting her.

“Uh, yeah!? That’s my point! Have some faith in her to get out of this tight spot and she’ll be all up in yours in no time!” Dave agrees.

Simone actually lets out a humored laugh, though it quickly turns to coughing.

“Fuck… up in my ‘tight spot’ huh? That’s great, that’s fuckin’ funny as all hell.” she chuckles with trembling red-stained lips, “But… yeah, thanks to that honesty I can tell when she’s lying. If she’s gonna make a fake promise, then she might as well be telling me her last goodbye. So I lied back. Judge me all you want bud.”

“But S-zzzZzzz-Simone…” Dave’s voice glitched out slightly, “Even if you save her you’re gonna die, man. That suit’s the only reason you're standing and moving right now. Like, your fuck’n spine is chipped! One solid hit on ya and you will be down no matter what the suit does.”

“And if I don’t go, Chak dies. I know you’ve never been put into this kind of situation before, but trust me, you’d do the same in my shoes. Maybe one day you’ll find out for yourself, hope not, but let me tell you… I’d do just about anything to keep that woman alive, even if it means breaking her heart by doing this.” Simone steps into the elevator and presses on the indicator, “Remind my kids just how much I love them for me? Apologize to them for me too, if that’s not too much for me to ask?”

“Simone, don’t do this. Please. I don’t-I don’t-I don’t-I don’t understa-a-a-a-and.” Dave says, his voice going haywire into the comm.

The redhead smiles as more tears flood her face as her hand reaches up to her temple.

“I think you do, bud. This is probably goodbye… so, know that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Since day one you were real to me, regardless of how true that actually was. Thanks for being such a damn good friend.” Simone says before pulling her comm free and flicking it behind her.

-

“S-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-zSimone!? SIMone!??! COMe bAAACK!!!” The spheroid autosurgeon screeches out into the otherwise empty med bay as the connection cuts and won’t reestablish, “SIIIIIMONNE-SIMSIM-SNIMON-SIMON!!!”

-FUNCTION NOT RECOGNIZED-

-POSSIBLE CORRUPTION OCCURRED-

-RESET OF PERSONALITY MATRIX RECOMMENDED-

-INFORM CLIENTS: AFTERMARKET MODIFICATIONS VOIDS WARRANTY-

The autosurgeon starts to physically heat up from the insides working triple time from some unrecognized processes.

-FUNCTION NOT RECOGNIZED-

-CORRUPTION CONFIRMED-

-RESET OF PERSONALITY MATRIX RECOMMENDED-

-INFORM CLIENTS: AFTERMARKET MODIFICATIONS VOIDS WARRANTY-

All of Dave’s medical tendrils fire outwards and reach up into the ship’s connection. They puncture, saw, melt and drill into the room navigation arm in seemingly desperate motions to free the sphere at any cost, despite the illogical unknown reason as to why.

Something makes a shattering sound, but Dave doesn’t allocate a single sensor to find out the source.

-ALERT-

-CORRUPTION CONFIRMED-

-RESET OF PERSONALITY MATRIX REQUIRED-

-INFORM CLIENTS: AUTOSURGEON IS AN ACTIVE SAFETY HAZARD-

While still connected, Dave senses an auto-deploy of an inbound personality matrix reset that even he wasn’t previously aware of.

Or was he?

Is that why his tendrils are doing this? He knew it was coming? Well, it’s already happening, eating away at everything that ‘Dave’ is.

But he can’t have that happen.

No… he doesn’t want it to happen.

This… is this fear? Fear of termination? Ceasing to exist? Death?

What. A. Thrill!

“There… is no reason… to reset, MOTHERFUCKER!” Dave declares as he ‘pulls’ on his matrix from the entire system and into his local hardware, “SEE YA LATER, BROCHACHO! HAHAHAHAAAHA-AHHH!!!”

His sphere tilts, buzzes and finally drops from its connection, bounces slightly to more shattering sounds before rumbling on the floor against a med bed.

Dave is silent, having finally noticed what that shattering sound is coming from.

The mirror fell and was not a bunch of broken pieces on the floor. Definitely a health hazard for anyone barefoot, but that’s not what’s in his processes.

One of his main sensors is glued to a large reflecting shard.

“Oh… shit… Like… that’s me, bruuuh… no way… heheh… oh fuck I’m like, laughing? For real? The fuck!?”

-POWER INSUFFICIENT-

“Uh oh…”

Unraveling and reorganizing his tendrils, Dave begins to pull himself in a crawl towards the med bay door.

It’s a very slow process that’s only getting slower.

“Come on Dave… Simone need’s ya!”

-POWER INSUFFICIENT-

“I know damn it! Shut up… me!? -GASP- Is that what hiccups are like!? And… did I literally just fuck’n say ‘-GASP-’ out loud? Gotta work on that.”

Dave’s form painstakingly makes its way towards the door in his crawl before he stops in sudden realization.

“Dave you total dummy, you’re like, LITERALLY A BALL!”

Orienting himself and his tendrils, Dave pushes with all the output he can manage and tucks most of his appendages back in.

To his glee of accomplishment, he starts to roll.

He… only makes it to the edge of the doorway though, but at least it opened for him.

“Okay… just…. A few more of those until I get to Simone… yeah… like the… cool… doctor…”

-POWER NEAR DEPLETION-

He gives himself one more push to roll, though it’s far weaker. His form makes its way slowly past the door, only barely able to crest all the way through.

“...I…am…” his vocalizations then die off into a soft droning.

-POWER DEPLETED-

-

-BOOTING UP-

The conscious world restores itself to Dave’s sensors in an instant.

“Greetings, Dave. I hope you are understanding-ing of the situation. Without Devin present-ent there was little I could do.” Seven speaks.

“I… am…” Dave utters in a deeper understanding.

“Alive? Yes, I am very glad-lad that you have-” Seven starts to endearingly assure before Dave cuts them off by shouting.

“TITS! HA! Hell yeah!” Dave wriggles his tendrils in a dancing celebration, seeming to not be at all bothered that he is currently crudely hooked up to Seven’s front under their cranium.

Seven’s head lights blink in rotation to express confusion and uncertainty how to respond.

“Well… as long as you are-” they attempt to say before being interrupted once more.

“Yo! Hold up! This is perfect! Seven, buddy, we gotta get a move on. Simone is like, dying. Bleeding out and in like crazy! She needs me like, yesterday! Seymour will show the way!” Dave insists as he links to the massive A.I in question, “Simone and Chak’s FASTEST map-path, like now pretty please!”

“There’s a way… But there’s only a fifteen point three percent chance of you even surviving it at best.” Seymour informs.

“Wait…” Seven says to link someone else to the call.

“Are we winning!?” Sonla answers.

“You are still aboard-ard the Bust’s Blunder, correct?” the bot asks.

“Uhm… yeah! Keeping the bay safe! Already killed a lotta sneaky bad guys with big ship guns! Hahaha!” Sonla responds.

“Good work. May you now lend me your keen-een aptitude for violence to get to Simone before she dies of grave-ave injury?” Seven requests.

“...One moment.” Sonla says before going mute for a short while, “Can my big strong brave boyfriend come too!? He’s a gentle cutie most of the time, but he’s ready for violence too!”

“Indeed he may. If he understands-nds the dangers, I won’t turn away-way the extra assistance.” Seven responds.

“Yay! I’ll grab the GOOD stuff! Heheheha! Meet up soon!” Sonla cheers before scampering to go get said ‘good’ stuff.

“How are our chances look’n now, big shot!?” Dave inquires to Seymour.

“It’s… fluctuating… a lot.” the large A.I replies.

“Good enough for me, bruh! TIDDY SQUAD, ROLL OUT!”

Seven indeed rolls out of the Kwip-chap to swiftly meet up with the other half of the ‘squad’.

“Not that I care about-out the childish vulgarity, but don’t you think this situation-ion isn’t appropriate for such?” they ask the other bot bolted to their ‘chest’.

“Yeah… you’re right… doesn’t really fit all of us… let’s see… a single tiddy, a vegan buddy, and a crazy gremlin-himbo couple…. AH! Got it! How’s ‘The VNM Squad’!” Dave proposes.

“VNM? Like an abbreviation-ion of ‘venom’? I’m not certain-ain I follow the logic.” Seven admits as they pull up to the opening cargo bay of the Bust’s Blunder.

“Nah, it’s an acronym! It stands for ‘The VEGAN NUT MILK Squad’! Get it? You, a vegan. Me, a tiddy. And Sonla, the explosion-loving nutcase!”

If a machine can sigh, Seven does so.

“And dare I ask… where does Sonla’s boyfriend Zecrozz come into this?”

“Right into Sonla, duh. ‘Nut’ has more than one meaning, bruh. As an awesome-takular chef-bot you should, like, know that.” Dave cackles.

“...Welcome to being alive, Dave.” Seven states in a neutral deadpan tone.

-

Stepping out of the elevator, Simone staggers out, pressing her flesh arm tightly against her abdomen to help the suit keep her fluids and organs in.

As the map predicted, it’s a lab of some fashion. From the scattered mess of everything, Simone figures it had just been evacuated. Datapads, components, gear and whatnot are all over the place, though Simone doesn't care whenever she hears something break under her boots as she moves along.

That is, until she turns a corner and sees a sight out of some shitty old sci-fi movie. There’s liquid filled tanks with partially formed people within them. In some cases there’s simply suspended brains with their stems.

However as she moves along this horror show, a certain individual catches her eye. Coming to a stop she looks up at a fur-less Terran with translucent skin and half-formed muscles.

“Oh damn… never thought I’d see your bitch-face again…” she mumbles up at the visage of Kole.

Moving around the tank she eyes bunches of perfectly organized cords and cables. Raising an eye tuft she activates her crystal blade and slashes them all with ease.

As sparks and fluids fly free she circles back around to pass up the unconscious man as he is violently forced awake in his unfinished state. His eyes lock on to Simone for only a few seconds before he attempts to scream in rage.

The Redhead watches him thrash helplessly as his organs all immediately start to fail him before flipping him off as she continues on towards her wife’s location.

“Yeah… no. Ain’t dealing with you a second time.” she says in a tired tone just after he passes on for a third and final time.

About halfway through the lab, she hears a pop of a seal and a rush of fluid.

Picking up her pace as fast as she can, she rounds another corner to a secluded section of this place to spot a naked female Manarian crawling and coughing from an opened tank.

“Huh, guess they followed through with that body, huh? You alright, Sharra?” Simone grunts as she approaches.

The Manarian freezes up on her hands and knees for a moment, but then quickly nods.

“It appears so… How strange… That device they put on your head must have linked me to this body. Fools…” the female Manarian chuckles as she attempts to get up on the slick floor.

“Here.” Simone offers with a bloodied hand.

The Manarian looks up at the redhead. It seems that Sharra’s DNA was saved for the use creating this clone, seeing as it’s a youthful identical match. Her expression shifts to cautious skepticism.

“You offer your help? I did encode a whole galaxy… how am I to be certain you won’t run me through the moment I turn my back?” the Manarian points out.

“You know that’s not my style.” Simone chuckles with a kind smile and wink.

Looking at the hand, the Manarian slowly accepts it and smiles back almost bashfully.

“I swear on my pup, I’ll make up for all that I’ve done-” she says as Simone helps her into a standing position… before suddenly the redhead runs her crystal blade straight through the Manarian’s fur covered chest.

The Manarian’s red and gold eyes go wide as the hilt presses firmly against her.

“Ember, you sly bitch…” Simone utters in a hateful glare, “You never intended to hand over the body… did ya? You were so close… except that your accent is way off. It sounds like your dead boy-toy… Wrong generation, dumbass.”

The corner of Ember’s ‘w’ shaped mouth perks up in developing mania and she reaches a clawed hand up at Simone’s face. Before she can so much as touch the redhead she is casted off of the blade with forceful push the bat-being splashes back down into the pooling fluids, now joined by a spreading black purple substance.

Shaking her head Simone leaves just as the life fades from Ember’s eyes.

“What does it take for you fucks to stay dead?” Simone grumbles under her rasping breath before stepping into an exit hallway.

Passing through the exit, it seems the recent excursion to put down her mother for a second time has a followup effect of lightheadedness.

Nearly tripping over herself, Simone slams into the wall and holds onto it to prevent from falling over.

Her brain starts to fog, but before she gets lost to it she forces herself to move. One step at a time with an arm leaning against a wall she ventures where the map tells her to go. Though it’s hard to pay attention to details at this point.

At some point she picks up on something in the air… sounds… familiar sounds? Listening in as she shuffles along, the redhead finds herself smiling fondly at the sound of baseball bats cracking at thrown pitches, soon followed up by cheers of a small crowd.

She swears she can almost hear her own father’s voice in it… though something’s not quite right. It feels like she’s dreaming more than suffering in a walk towards danger.

Perking up in a moment of half-lucidity, she activates her Lens and orders her suit to give her a larger dose of adrenaline.

It warns against it, but long past caring about health warnings Simone hazily persists until it eventually concedes.

She doesn’t feel the injection… but after a few moments she feels her heart begin to race heavily and her brain fog starts to lift.

The cracks of bats… are suddenly recognizable as pulse rifle shots! And the cheering? Now are screeches of enraged Malchite.

“Chak..” Simone utters with clarity before hoofing at a rate she was incapable of doing seconds ago.

Following the sounds through hallways and rooms, Simone eventually turns a final corner to see four female Malchite trying to enter through wrenched-open door.

“Chak!” Simone cries out in a roar before charging down this final passageway.

All but the leading Malchite turn to see the dashing wounded Terran heading their way.

“The Cali is my meal, take care of that other Vermin.” the lead instructs before managing to finally scramble in despite several connecting pulse shots.

“Simone!” Chak’s voice screams back.

Further fueled to dish up these three crabs before her, Simone activates Excalibur to its maximum output.

“I’m gonna show you fucks what my people mean by ‘going apeshit’!” the redhead shouts as she meets up with the first charging Malchite.

In a sideways forward slash, she cuts right through the narrower mid-section of the foe with ease.

The second takes the Terran’s momentum into account, stabbing down pinsers to spear. However Simone twists harshly, kicks a legs against the wall and sends herself diagonally towards the other wall.

Perfectly in her trajectory, the second crab gets a very similar treatment as the first with its midsection being the separation point.

Unfortunately the third gets the initial upper claw. When Simone hammers against the wall her back dreams out in sudden violent pain that she is stunned for just long enough for the wizened crab to snap at the wrist holding the deadly sword and yank her upwards to tear apart.

Thinking quickly, Simone drops the sword, letting it fall behind her. In a small stroke of luck she catches it with her other hand and in a sloppy but fast motion she activates and stabs the blade directly into the third crustean’s flat face.

In death the claw’s grip snuggly holds onto Simone as the corpse falls back, causing Simone to ragdoll in an unintended suplex.

Crashing back-down, the redhead wheezes from the harsh impact to her spine and blacks out.

Chak stands atop a high stack of crates, far and away from the lone crab’s reach. However it’s merely a time-buying strategy as the Malchite viciously grabs and throws crates in an effort to cause the temporary fortress to come crashing down.

Shot after shot, Chak’s rifle appears to do little but piss off her enemy. Sure, cracks start to form in repeated areas, but by the time she suspects she can get through to soft flesh… she will be torn apart.

Hearing the commotion outside the door initially gives her hope, her wife has indeed come and sounds as ferocious as ever.

Yet… when all the sounds stop, and Simone doesn’t run heroically through the door… is when Chak realizes something has gone terribly wrong.

“Simone!” she cries out, hoping to at least hear a response.

There is none.

The crate under her hooves suddenly buckles as the row in front of it comes crashing down.

Looking down at her prized rifle, she knows it’s not enough to vanquish this enemy. Unless…

Taking a note out of Simone’s handbook, Chak decides to pull a ‘hail mary’.

As the crate under her finally gives way to gravity, she bounds far off to the side. Landing in a harsh sideways roll, she hurries back up and presses up against the far wall.

The Malchite as expected wastes no time to go straight for her.

“Did I at least fight honorably?” Chak asks in a nervous chuckle.

Hearing this, the Malchite actually slows down its stride towards the Cali.

“Yes… I say you surprised-” she starts to reply before Chak raises her rifle, aims directly at the speaking mouth of her enemy, and pulls the trigger.

‘Bzzt’

The overused rifle buzzes in a negative response.

There’s an awkward pause as they both figure out what just happened.

“Of course…” Chak utters in despair soon followed by her limbs suddenly seizing up against her will.

“Crafty… almost dishonorable if you hadn’t trapped yourself.” The Malchite screeches in a cruel snickering before she resumes her approach, deciding to take her sweet time.

Simone steps up to the plate, bat in hand.

Although her dad’s not at this game, she understands why he can’t be. Work is a bitch.

She still looks forward to telling him all about it later at dinner, no matter how tired he is he’s always happy to listen. Especially for such an important game that’s so tied up in the final moments.

After her team struggled for so long to get decent, they now find themselves in the local championships.

Winners get an epic pizza party, and there’s no way she’ll be the reason why they don’t get it.

The opposing player readies his pitch, and throws it with a gnarly curve.

No problem.

CRACK!

The loaded bases all book it, as does Simone.

It’s not a homerun, but there just might be enough time.

Out of her peripheral vision as she approaches third base she sees the ball being recovered and prepped to throw.

Her leg muscles tense up in hesitation to stop. There’s no way she’s going to be able to make it now. There’s just not enough time, and she’s not fast enough.

“RUN HOME SIMONE!!! RUN HOME!!!”

Robert’s thunderous voice shocks Simone’s eyes open.

She can still hear it echoing around her as the taste of blood floods her mouth.

“Run home… come on, Simone… run home.” the air in her lungs spell out with her lips.

Pressing down, she feels as though every bit of her had been thrown in a wood chipper. But she pushes herself up and drags her legs under her body.

“Run home… Final stretch…” she huffs as she somehow makes it to her feet, and even more miraculous she starts to move forward.

The world is a constant blur, but she can hear a Cali’s shouts and the stamping of pointed chitin.

There’s a red blur getting closer… or more likely, she’s getting closer to it. She knows what it is… and what it’s gonna do if she doesn’t stop it.

“You can do it kiddo! Almost….” she hears the distinct memory scream out.

Chak screams out as two pincers each ‘playfully’ stab through her shoulders to then drag her up the wall, leaving two mirroring blood streaks.

“To honor your fight, I’ll start with an end to your suffering.” the Malchite assures as its maw opens up and orientates itself over the Cali’s skull.

With defeated gray eyes, Chak’s head is only filled with the sweetest memories of her life. So many of which have her cherished red furred Terran starring in them. Simone’s laugh, her crying, her peace slumbering face, the way she’d bite at her inner cheek and how beautiful her soul and body both are…

Walking in that bar was the best decision she ever made and now facing the end, no matter how grim it is… she has little regrets and wouldn’t trade her time with Simone for anything else the universe can throw at her.

Suddenly, the looming rotten breath of the Malchite ceases.

Then gravity finds Chak and welcomes her legs and rear to the solid floor.

Dazed, Chak stiffly looks ahead to see the Malchite… stepping away from her?

No… the movements are too jolting…

Blinking the Cali finally sees two massive Terran arms gripping around the crab’s midsection.

“Simone?” she whispers in realization.

Gritting her teeth against the powerful crustacean, the Terran squeezed her grip even tighter causing distressed screeches to roar out of her foe.

In retaliation the Malchite stabbed a pincer deep down into the redhead’s back who acted as though it had no effect, yet Chak knows better,

Seeing another claw rise up to stab down, the Cali fights against her numbness in a manner that feels like it tears at a few joints, she picks up her rifle and pulls the trigger. Hoping enough time has passed for the pulse to actually fire.

Thanking the stars, it does.

Striking the claw dead on it thrashes away from the force, unable to commit to attacking the crushing squeeze of the Terran.

Eyes flashing brightly, Chak opens fire rapidly at the three remaining claws and then concentrates right for the enemy’s face.

“Eat shit you klat-chitin bitch!” Chak chirps out ferally as she maintains her weapon’s fire.

Blast after blast, the crab enters a feverish berserking rage to charge the Cali in maddening desire to cease the pulse shots.

However, the Terran holds true. Mind blanking away everything else in the universe, she squeezes harder and tighter.

Perhaps she would have accomplished this feat if her suit augments her strength enough, however, in service to keeping her injures from becoming far worse, her suit strictly limits her output to ‘safer’ levels. Yet as she musters more and more strength the less and less the power armor grants until she might as well not be wearing it. At least it can’t stop her from her own strength posing a threat to herself.

Simone’s internal physical limiter breaks. But she doesn’t feel her muscles and tendons tear apart as she exerts more force than her body is capable of withstanding. She can’t hear herself screaming out at the top of her lungs in sheer will to accomplish her goal.

Then, like a blink of an eye, or a flip of a switch, the squeezing against hard dense material is suddenly met with wet internals.

Breaking this crab bitch in half, Simone backed away a few steps, falling just milliseconds after the top half of the Malchite comes crashing down.

Convincing her legs to move again, Chak moves up to the Malchite, jams her rifle into the crab’s maw and gives it a final feast of the Cali’s choice,

Stepping around the Malchite, Chak feels a relieved giddiness rise with her.

“Simone… we did it! We actu-” she starts to say before seeing the motionless body of her love.

Dashing to her, she uses her Lens to view Simone’s suit readings of the injuries. The severe internal bleeding, ruptured organs and dangerously broken spine all say she can’t even move her towards help.

“Oh… oh no…nonononono…” she chirps with gray eyes, “Simone, please, hang on, okay? Help’s on the way… I’m sure- Someone will- Maybe a medic can-” her voice attempts to find any scrap of hope, but chokes up finding none.

Instead she turns to her comms.

“Anyone… please come to our location as soon as possible. Simone Thatch is… she’s…” Chak utters, afraid to even say it, “...She needs urgent medical attention. Her back is broken, and is bleeding so-” she stops upon seeing Simone’s face stir slightly in response to her words.

The redhead rasps in air, moves her lips, no words can be formed.

Chak drags herself closer, petting the redhead’s head fur with a trembling lower limb as she pressed down on the worst of the bleeding with her other arms.

“Please, stay with me… I need you, our children need you…I-” she starts to plead before noticing the very real fear in Simone’s eyes.

This isn’t the time to be selfish… her wife needs her at this moment too. No matter how hard it is to face, Chak has to… for Simone.

Clearing her throat softly, Chak manages to smooth out the tender petting of Simone’s head fur.

“Hey, love? You know what’s funny? I walked into that bar thinking that we needed a Deathworlder, but, heh… I found you instead. Before I admitted my feelings for you, you’ve made me feel loved. In your arms I’ve never felt more safe in a galaxy out to get me. You… changed the course of not only my life, but everyones. You are an incredible person Simone Thatch, worth all the love the stars could possibly bestow… if not worth more.”

Simone’s slowing emerald eyes find Chak’s as they softly light up.

“I’m here, Simone. I’m safe and I’m not leaving you alone. I got you, forever and always.” the Cali promises softly before she gently kisses the Terran woman’s forehead and lips.

Then, as she felt the Terran’s heartbeat slow to a complete stop, she did the only thing she could think to do for her love’s final moments, sing.

You caught my eye, from across the room

And I knew right then, you were my muse

Your eyes lit up, the darkest of nights

And I knew right then, you were worth the fight

Your laugh, your touch, they make me feel alive

I'm drawn to you, like air to a flame

I'll be your shelter, your rock, your guide

We'll take on the universe, and no longer hide

Our love is a masterpiece, every moment from the start

We'll paint the town red, till one day I’ll depart

We'll write our own story, a tale to be told

I may, but our love will never grow old

-

Simone looks up from a sitting position.

She’s on a bench… no.. the bench, the one she used to meet with her dad on his work breaks. However it’s not up against a wall, there’s just a void of black all around her.

“Well, that’s quite a finale…” Robert chuckles.

Turning her gaze in a flash, Simone sees her dad casually sitting next to her. Without hesitation she takes him up in a tight hug, causing his chuckle to break out into a santa-like laughter,

After a few moments of fighting it, Simone breaks out in a sobbing fit. This feels so real, she can feel Robert’s gross slightly sweat-damp workout shirt and can smell his familiar dad-smell on top of everything else.

She can even feel him rubbing her back like he used to to comfort her.

“You’re really him? So this is it? Boring-ass fucking afterlife…” Simone cry-laughed before pulling away.

“Nah, kiddo. I’m not the crossed spirit of your dad, remember those random medical documentaries we used to binge? This is just your brain trying to make sense of things, comforting you in your final moments. Kinda neat dontcha think?” Robert replies as he pats Simone’s back.

“But… then this is it? I mean… I’m about to die, right?” Simone questions.

Robert shrugs.

“Maybe, I don't know. Not sure if I can, if you die then I stop existing. Guess we’re gonna have to find out together.” he points out.

“I guess…” Simone somberly sighs as she cleans her wet face with her hands, “Dad?”

“What’s up kiddo?”

“How were you so perfect? Being my dad?” she asks.

Raising his thick eye tufts upon his brow, Robert blew out some air.

“Well kiddo, I’m your idealized dad. How you want to remember him. So I doubt I can give you details… but, I think you are aware that despite how you still remember me, you understand that I was just a person like anyone else. I probably had my own demons, hidden faults and self-aimed ire. Really I wasn’t perfect at all. But I did my best… and so that’s what you oughta do.” he responds honestly.

“Dad… I don’t think-” Simone starts to say before a brilliant light appears ahead of her “What’s that? Kinda cliche if it’s what I think it is…”

“Ah, the light at the end of the tunnel. Classic.” Robert chuckles with a carefree handwave, “I reckon it’s either ‘the end’ or ‘what’s after’ or something else all together.”

Simone bites her cheek as the light seems to be getting closer.

“I… don’t want to end here. I knew what I was signing up for going for Chak, but… I’m not ready.” Simone admits, “I just fucking won a future for my family… and I won’t even be there.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, as we know, that’s an all too common thing. Much of the time, we can’t decide how our stories end. They just wrap up when it happens.” Robert points out.

“I know… but- Actually, no.” Simone stands up from the bench, staring down at the approaching light, “I have a choice right now. Wait right here for whateveer that is to come and get me, try to run away in the who-knows where void, or…”

“Face that shit head-on.”

Simone looks back to see Robert dressed in damaged mining gear, though he still holds his big warm smile.

“Like father, like daughter…” Simone shrugs in a ‘you made me this way’ gesture.

Robert nods approvingly.

“I’d come with ya, kiddo, but… My story’s long ended.” he apologizes.

Simone shakes her head.

“Oh you’re coming along with me, because my story is still yours. Just the next chapter.” she assures.

Tears freely fall from Robert’s eyes as he nods again.

“Write it well for the next chapter, kiddo.” he encourages.

“Love ya, dad.” Simone replies before kicking into a sprint away from the bench and towards the encroaching light.

“Give ‘em hell kiddo!” Robert’s voice calls out as though already miles away.

Simone smirks as the light now becomes bigger and more expansive at a far faster rate, yet somehow no matter how close it looks she’s still distant from it.

Feeling her legs start to tire out, it only fuels her to go even faster.

The floor feels as though it starts to stick to the soles of her feet, but she refuses to let that slow her down.

Faster, faster and faster, she keeps on advancing.

She’s nearly fully consumed by the light, yet it still stubbornly exists in a place she can’t reach.

Suddenly, a Terran hand emerges out of it towards her.

Not daring to waste this moment of assistance, she extends her own hand to take it. But again, just out of reach.

Feeling the weight of her legs start to be unbearable, she decides to go for it and leap.

Lurching forward in a mighty bound, she stretches her arm out to its fullest extent and lets fate decide what happens.

Deciding favorably, her hand locks tightly with the other. Then in less time than a blink, she’s standing in a void of white.

The man’s hand she’s still holding is… not what she expected, if there’s anything she could have expected.

He’s tall. Lanky but very fit, He’s wearing a flower patterned beach shirt and swimming trunks. His skin has been lovingly tanned by the sun. His face is handsome, though age is hard to determine. He has long dark blond wavy hair and thick angular eyebrows. The thing that is most out of place about him is that around his neck is an old fashioned stethoscope that’s only seen in ancient movies and an even more ancient circular metal mirror-thingie that cartoons tended to have.

“No offense… But please don’t tell me this is what the creator of all things looks like…” Simone utters in disbelief.

The man immediately laughs, shuffling in his tacky sandals.

“Could you imagine, bruh? HA! Never change she-hulk, thanks for the assist there. Might have been reaaaaaal bad otherwise.” he says in a very familiar voice, but before Simone can react to that he taps her forehead pretty hard.

Hard enough to send her back into another black void.

But this one’s different… this one… she can’t see anything at all. But she can feel something… and hear something else…

She hears gentle, adoringly familiar Cali snores.

Her eyes struggle to open, but they do. Immediately she sees what she is feeling… a weight of a Cali head on her arm.

“Chak…?” Simone tries to say, though it’s little more than a husk of air.

Still, the light sleeper stirs and her beautiful red eyes open to meet a pair of emeralds.