Trials: Part Two

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Vanessa stood outside of the dining room to collect herself. Everyone was there, and she had made up her mind. She wasn’t asking she was telling. Nothing they could say would convince her.

Her eyes fell on the freshly retouched portrait of her great grandfather that stared down on her. While the charred corner had been repainted, she could still see the black lines running through the canvas. Electrified had really done a number on it. Vanessa thought the artist could’ve done a better job retouching, but it was done. The eyes didn’t hold the same piercing quality they once had.

Vanessa threw open the dining room door. Mr. Smith and Jude were both sitting at their usual spots, looking down at their phones. As she entered, they both put away their phones and looked up.

“Vanessa! What is it you wanted to talk about?” Mr. Smith smiled.

Vanessa took a deep breath, before taking her seat. “Dad, Jude, I’ve decided that I’m going away for a while.”

Mr. Smith’s smile stiffened, and his brow furrowed. “What? This is sudden. What brought this on?”

“After everything that happened last year, nothing has been the same. Nothing makes sense anymore. I feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore…” She looked up. “Without Paul, there’s not really anything here for me anyways.” She felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she pushed them back.

“Well, honey, that’s just not true! You still have me…” He paused for a second, “And Jude’s still here too! What about your training? You really wanted that didn’t you?”

“It’s just not the same anymore dad. I don’t think I can keep doing this.” A single tear broke through her barrier and ran down her cheek. “I’m going to go find myself.”

“Where are you going to go?” Mr. Smith pushed back his chair and stood to his feet. “Who are you going to go with?”

“I’m going on my own, to California.” She stood to her feet as well.

“You can’t just go off on your own, it’s not safe!”

“I can take care of myself, isn’t that right, Jude?” She turned to Jude.

Jude went wide-eyed, and said nothing for a moment, before sighing. “Vanessa, I think you should listen to your dad… At least bring someone with you.”

“This is why I have to leave! Nobody here believes in me!” She turned around and began to storm out, before turning back around. “I’m leaving now! Don’t call me! I can take care of myself.” She then went out of the room, slamming the doors behind her. She heard a thud, and turned to see the painting had fallen off of the wall. She ran off to her room to grab her bags.

She got to her room, and picked up her plane ticket and bags. She hesitated for a moment. Her heart ached, but she knew this was the right thing for her to do. She had honestly thought her dad would believe in her, or that Jude would stick up for her a little bit. After all, Paul went off on a trip to Turkey and everyone was fine with that. She had superpowers now, nobody could hurt her.

There was a gentle knock on the door. She wiped her face off on her sleeve, and turned to face it. “You’re not going to talk me out of it.”

“Can I come in?” Mr. Smith asked.

“Fine.” She sat on the foot of the bed.

He slowly opened the door, and came to sit down next to her. “Honey, you know I love you, and I want what’s best for you. It’s not that I don’t support you, it’s just that I’m worried, okay?”

“I know dad.” She looked down and wiped some more tears away.

Her dad moved closer and wrapped his arm around her. “Look, if you want to go to California, you can go to California. I’ll call you a car, and you can leave when you’re ready. Just… Please call me. I’m not that same guy that missed your whole childhood for work. I’m here for you.”

Vanessa sobbed for a moment, as she embraced her dad. “Thanks dad.”

Mr. Smith held her for a moment, then looked down at her plane ticket. “Well, I see you seem well prepared. You already have tickets and everything.” He nodded. “Let me at least call you a car.

“Alright. Thanks dad.” She smiled as he went out the door.

Vanessa on the edge of her bed, when she heard another knock, this time from Jude.

“So, you have any idea when you’ll be back?” He asked.

“I… I don’t know. I’m sorry if this throws a wrench in your superhero-ing.”

“Don’t worry about me. I just want you to take the time for yourself that you need to. When you’re ready, come back and we can pick up where we left off.” He smiled.

“Thanks Jude…” She hesitated. “Don’t tell Paul about this, by the way. I don’t want him to think I’ve lost it without him.”

“Alright, I won’t. Just make sure you stay safe out there.”

“Thanks Jude.” She smiled.

Mr. Smith stepped into the doorway. “Vanessa, they’ve got the car pulled around front, are you ready to go?”

Vanessa nodded, and Jude helped her carry her bag out to the car. She got in, closed the door, and waved to Jude and her dad, who were standing on the curb. She sighed in contentment, as the car pulled out of the drive, and onto the road.

“So, California, huh?” The driver spoke up. She recognized his voice. He was one of her dad’s newer recruits. She was a little surprised that he’d not had Gregory do this. She figured he probably had experience in California, and her dad was going to have him tail her. That sounded just like him. She was a little surprised he found a volunteer so quickly, though.

“Yeah, have you ever been before?”


“I see.” She nodded. This didn’t feel right.

There was a whirring, as the divider went up. She quietly sighed with relief. It wasn’t quite over, but she wasn’t really wild about continuing that conversation. There had to be some reasonable explanation. Suddenly the air vents kicked on, and she smelt something funny. Vanessa started to formulate a thought, but before she knew it, she was asleep.



⇐ Previous Part —————————– Next Part ⇒


(Art credit: Morgan, by Charles William Peale ~1794)

Trials: Part One

Missed Origins or has it just been a minute?

Here’s a recap of what’s happened so far


Jude sat in his living room, staring blankly at his laptop. He’d already gotten his tax documents, so he wanted to knock them out while he had free time. There was no telling what would pop up if he put this off. The problem was, he’d rather be doing anything else. He leaned back into the couch and sighed.

He popped back into reality, as he noticed Paul sitting in a chair next to him. He seemed to be staring at Jude, waiting for him to acknowledge him.

“You need something?”

“Yeah, actually. I wanna go on a trip.”

Jude nodded in mild surprise. It was a little sudden, but this sounded like something Paul would suggest. Jude shut his laptop halfway, and put it on the coffee table. “Alright, when and where?”

“As soon as possible and Turkey. Istanbul in particular.”

“Any particular reason for that destination?”

“I had a vision that I was in a monastery. A woman was walking around me, and I was sitting on the floor. Now, I was watching this third person, and then the woman turned to me and told me to come. I saw a word, ‘Hodegon’. I asked Jean about it, thinking he’d just google it for me, and he told me that he knew of a place called Hodegon. He said it was a monastery famous for curing blind people like a thousand years ago.”

Jude nodded. He’d been expecting something about this unusual, but he was still unprepared. “So do you think this woman is going to fix your sight?”

“I mean, I guess I don’t know, but I think that’s the clear implication.”

“The doctors said that was impossible. Don’t you think that sounds a little farfetched?”

“Jude, you’re a literal super hero, and I get magic visions of the future. Are you going to try to tell me that healing monks is still farfetched?”

“I suppose that’s fair, but still…” Jude shook his head. He’d been dealing with stuff like this, but magic monks sounded too out there. It could easily be some kind of trap. “I just don’t know.”

“Jude. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but I don’t like being blind. I’ve gotten used to it; I’ve come to terms with it, but I hate it.” Paul started, Jude tried to interrupt, but Paul kept on going. “I came to terms with it because it was a fact, and there was nothing I could do about it. If there’s even a snowball’s chance in hell that some magic monks in Turkey can give me my sight back, you couldn’t stop me if you tried.” Paul slammed his fist on the table.

Jude was silent for a moment, and nodded his head. There was no talking Paul out of this. He was going to go, with or without his approval. “I’m not going to try to stop you.” Jude spoke calmly. “But let’s slow down and consider details.”

“Sorry…” Paul slumped back in his chair. “I just finally have a ray of hope.”

“So let’s get a plan together, yeah?”

“Alright, yeah. Let’s get planning.”



Paul stood in Anastasia’s doorway. The smell of nail polish filled the air, and some soft guitar cover played in the background.

“Oh! Hey Paul!” There was a click, and the music cut out. “Do you need something?”

“Yeah, actually…” He walked into the room, and narrowly avoided stubbing his toe. “Do you have a second to talk?”

“Yeah, sure!” She jumped up, and guided him to a chair. “What’s up?”

“So, I’m going to be going away soon. To Turkey.” He hesitated. “There’s a monastery, and I think I might be able to get my sight back.”

Anastasia was silent for a moment. “Wow.” Her voice carried a tone of disappointment, but she quickly added on, “I mean, that’s great. You could get you sight back!”

“Hey, you kinda sounded disappointed there for a second, what’s the problem?”

“Oh… It’s just that…” Anastasia paused a moment and sighed. “Well, that means you’re leaving for a while.”

“I see. In that case I think you might actually be happy with what I came to ask.”

“Yeah what’s that?”

“I wanted to ask… If you would come with me?”

Anastasia choked for a moment in surprise. “You want me to come to Turkey with you?”

“Yeah, I mean, it would work. I can’t very well go on my own, and it would be a great chance to get away from it all, and take a break.”

“I don’t know…” She hesitated, “That sounds expensive.”

“I could pay for it all. I’ve saved up a good bit of money. My expenses are pretty low.”

She went silent again. “What about Vanessa? What would she think?”

“I don’t care what Vanessa thinks. I don’t think she gets to say what I can’t do.” He shook his head. “That’s kinda one of the things I want to get away from.”

“You’re sure? I mean, just with the money, and Vanessa, and everything else…”

“I’m more sure of this than I have been of anything in a while.” He sighed. He’d expected her to be more on board with this. “But if you don’t wanna go-”

“No, no, no! I want to go!” She wrapped her arms around him. “I just get weird about people giving me things…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Paul laughed. “Besides, while I’d have to go with someone. Jude doesn’t think it’s the best time for him to leave and I’m not going with Vanessa, so that just left you and Jean. While I like Jean, I think it would be kinda weird to go on vacation with him.”

Anastasia broke out laughing. “Are you sure? It might’ve turned into a spy movie or something. Some kind of heist of the century.”

Paul looked seriously off into the distance. “It’s the perfect crime! They’d never suspect the blind guy!”



Next Part ⇒


Here it is, everyone! I have uploaded an edited version of part one, and since there’s no “new” story, I’ve decided to also upload part two today!


(Art credit: WordPress Free Photo Library)

New Naming

Hey everyone, I just want to give you a heads up of a slight change. My main series will still be called Earth 2, but each of the seasons will have its own name. Season One is now ‘Origins’ and Season Two will be ‘Trials’. I will update the table of contents accordingly. I currently have no plans to go through and change all of the titles of Season One’s blog posts. They are all currently in the format of “Earth 2: Part X”, but I will refer to them as a collective as ‘Origins’. Season Two, however, will be named in the format of “Trials: Part X”.

Thiol: Part Two

Nothing is given for free, there is always a price. Even if someone does give you something, they expect something in return. If you do not give something in return, you instead default to giving away your reputation. Such is this life. In this case, Thiol had to oblige and give up front. The Yvnivians had information they needed.

Thiol was now sitting on a rug, and the biped sat on the other end. The bipeds accompanying him stood a respectful distance away, but looked on in interest. This was likely due to the fact that, unless Thiol was misinformed, they were likely the first outworlder these people had seen. Their lifespans usually ran about thirty years, and thiol hadn’t been here in two hundred, so outworlders were likely talked about as myth by this point.

The biped took off his helmet, and sat it in front of him. “For seven generations, our people have lived here undisturbed. Now, our method of concealment is beginning to fail us. How did you come to find us?”

“Word of mouth. I needed information about your founder, and I asked around.”

“So our whereabouts are known, then?” He looked deeply troubled.

“So it would seem.” Thiol looked around at the plants surrounding the rug. Yuri. A plant commonly smoked for its narcotic properties. They reached into the interior of their coat, pulled out a collapsable pipe, and set about packing and lighting it. While they were unsure about the habits of present day Yvnivians, this was common practice amongst the founders.

The biped furrowed his brow for a moment, before continuing to speak. “It seems our cloaking device is failing us. It has begun to make strange noises, and flicker on and off for hours at a time.”

They were silent for a moment, focused on packing the pipe. Once it was packed, they lit it, and turned back to the biped. “And you want me to fix it?”

“None of my people have any skill in the repair of devices so advanced as this. It is effectively sorcery.” He shook his head.

“Very well. First, I will grab my tools, then you will take me to it.” Thiol stood up, took a puff, and went into their ship. They grabbed a multitool, a sack of miscellaneous parts, and a cooling rod. When they returned, they found a mount waiting for them, directly adjacent to the biped leader, who was wearing his helmet again. They jumped onto the mound, and went into town.

The town had grown less than Thiol had expected in these years. If the size and number of residences indicated correctly, there were only approximately 500 residents, compared to the 238 residents that began the town. The buildings were simple hexagonal cabins with domed clay roofs.

The leader took Thiol to a large metal building. It stood in sharp contrast to everything else in the town. This was likely what remained of the original vessel that had brought the founders here. They dismounted, and walked inside, with the biped in the lead. They walked down a long corridor and went into a room on the side. Inside the room sat an enormous peacefully humming machine. It emitted a bright light from slits in the sides of it. Its rhythmic humming was interrupted by a loud clank, which was followed by a wheeze. The machine then resumed its humming.

“I can likely repair this.” Thiol turned back to the leader. “I will need fifteen minutes of solitude.”

The leader nodded, and exited the room, pulling a door shut behind him.

Thiol did not, however, operate under the illusion that he was unwatched. They dismantled the machine, swapped some exchangeable parts out, and reassembled it. Lastly they stood back, and typed a command into their tablet. The machine returned to its rhythmic humming. Thiol exited the room.

Outside, the leader stood in wait. “Have you done it?”

“Yes. I assume this building is also the hall of histories?”

“We owe you an eternal debt of gratitude.” The leader bowed for a moment, before noticing Thiol was not reciprocating. “Ah, yes, this is the hall of histories. I have people that can help you find what it is you need, if you require.”

“I am fine, I will vacate your settlement before sundown.” Thiol nodded and walked off.

“Oh, we do have one more thing we would ask of you.” The biped called after Thiol. “Please tell the people who sent you here that their information is incorrect.”

“Very well.” Thiol did not pause their stride.

Thiol scanned the old ship, opening up every compartment, and checking every orifice. They stumbled over many images of the founders, along with the outworlders who assisted them. They took a photo of each one of them with their tablet. They then found a dust covered data stick, and placed it in their pocket for later viewing. None of the equipment here was likely to work at all, and if it did, it was likely unsecured.

Thiol having examined everything, returned to their ship, without a word.



Everything has a price, especially knowledge. That is why it is best to create a need in the other party that is extremely easy for you to provide for. That is why Thiol used his tablet to sabotage the cloaking device remotely.

Thiol reclined in their chair in the bridge of their ship. Their ship was safely in orbit of the planet Jupiter, and it was now time to dig through Uku’s private files. Thiol pulled out a spare tablet, disconnected completely from any of his ships systems, and inserted the data stick.

On it, were mostly routine and uninteresting files, as could be expected. There was one file of interest, though. It was a text file, entitled, Kukoum. From their years of digging, Thiol had gathered that Kukoum was likely either an alias they had used in the past, or someone involved with what they were looking for. Either way, Kukoum appeared to have met a grizzly end at the hands of what appeared to be his friends.

The text file read as follows:

Regarding the matter of Kukoum: I write this log in fear that it one day may be needed for the survival of the settlement. In the founding of Yvan, and the exodus of the Yvnivians from the Klaxx-on oppressors, I utilized many contractors. They were recruited for me by a sympathizer in the Klaxx-on government, known to me simply as Syn. I wired him the necessary funds, and that was that. Kukoum was one of those contractors. Kukoum was very private, which is to be expected from contractors, but I received a dossier from him, regarding his strengths. I also received a method to contact him if things were to go awry. He said he didn’t consider this contract to be one and done, he preferred to ensure the prolonged success of those involved. I am unsure if this is typical of him or if he just had a special interest in my case.

Many years later, once the settlement had been founded, I received a message from Syn. He instructed me to summon Kukoum here, or else he would reveal my location to the Klaxx-on government. He said to summon him to arrive at 18:50:01:02:19as. That date was two days after I received the message. He didn’t say what was going to happen, nor did he provide any other details. I had a great deal of respect for Kukoum, but this was something I simply could not risk. I informed Kukoum of when I needed him to arrive, and that was that. Two days later, many Klaxx-on ships appeared in orbit, and I thought Syn had sold us out. Syn, however, beamed down to the planet to speak to me. He told me that as long as I had held up my end of the bargain, my people were in no danger. The force was here to draw Kukoum in, and to subdue him. He said this was a completely off the books operation, and as long as I cooperated, my people would remain unharmed. I ushered them all inside the hall of histories for shelter, and I waited. I did not see what happened to Kukoum, but I imagine he is dead now. This is all I know.

Attached to the document, was a Klaxx-on communication ID, labelled Syn. Thiol typed it into their database, and found it traced to a home on Klaxx-on 2, the capitol planet.



[Previous Part]


Hey everyone! This is where this story ends for now, but I may come back to it later. If you enjoyed it and want to read more, please let me know!


(Art credit: WordPress Free Photo Library)

Thiol: Part One

Thiol stepped off the ramp to their ship. At the push of a button, the ramp closed behind them. Their ship was a customary Klax-on vessel, rugged and simple. The green and blue blobbed pattern looked awful, but it allegedly blended in better in orbit. They needed to try one last thing before they left this system, but if they were honest, they were already planning where they would go after they had failed. So many failed attempts could only lead one to become jaded, nonetheless, they must try. If they didn’t at least try then they had truly lost any sense of purpose.

They approached a gray fabricated building, a cylinder, two stories high, relatively large. They had been in many identical buildings before, as any food or drink dispensary was produced with an identical template. They could build or demolish one of these in an afternoon. Etched above a plain titanium door, was the name of the bar, the only unique thing about the structure. ‘Xor’, it read. This was the place. Thiol pushed through the door.

The structure of nearly every Klax-on bar was identical, which lead the individual bars to seek miscellaneous items from every corner of the empire, sometimes even beyond, to set their place apart. This one was clearly based on the desert world of Klax-on 78. There were carapace tables and chairs, but Thiol doubted their authenticity. The counter itself was coated with definitely fake scale. The carapace was possible, but everyone knows that scale coated surfaces are always fake, it would be far too costly to just help set the aesthetic of a bar.

As they entered, not a single head turned, because Thiol was just another local seeking numb the pain of oppression. Thiol had been to many different systems, and found the quest to numb one’s pain is near universal.

They strode across the bar, and approached a feathered stout humanoid. He looked up and produced a startled cooing noise. “You are alive?” He slid a plate of shellfish across the table.

“I need to know who you sold me out to, Kurok.” Thiol spoke in a monotone voice. They glanced down at the shelled meat. It produced a natural high in the locals, and wasn’t restricted under Klaxx-on code. Unfortunately it only produced a high in the locals.

“I can’t tell you that I ever knew.” Kurok shook his lower beak and cooed in remorse.

“That is bad for you.” Thiol placed a pistol on the table.

“I don’t fear you, Kukoum.” Kurok laughed. “It will take more than one gun to lean on me.”

Thiol pulled a tablet from his belt, and slid it across the table. On it was a simple list of names and exact addresses.

Kurok growled softly. “I don’t take this lightly, but I will give you what I have.” He pulled the plate of shellfish back towards him, and threw one, unshelled, into his mouth. “They didn’t want to tell me who they were, but I don’t like doing business without some kind of leverage. So I had some people look into him. He is some kind of creature from the terran system, and that is all I have.”

Thiol stood up without a word, and holstered their pistol.

“One more thing, Kukoum.” The feathers around his beak stood up, and the shell in his mouth rattled as he spoke. “I consider us even. So never return, lest I reconsider our balance.”

“Not to worry, your culture is simplistic, and my brief stay here has already been miserable.” Thiol strode out without another word. A brief moment, and they returned to their ship, and left the system.



Gas giants aren’t exactly conducive to life, in and of themselves. In some systems, gas giants were used as hubs for shipping and space stations, but the Terran’s lacked the technology required to take advantage of this. In search of life in the terran system, why would one come to the portion inhabited by gas giants, then? The moons.

Saturn, in particular, had a moon worth checking on. This moon was selected by a group of primitivists as their home. They sought to get away from the Klaxx-on empire, away from modern culture and technology, and they selected a system far enough out of reach of the empire to not be of particular worry. This system had two options, and one was already inhabited. Now, one might assume they just immediately came to the uninhabited world, since they were primitivists after all, but one would be wrong.

Terra was more or less the level of technology they had romanticized, and wanted so badly to return to. They landed there, expecting welcome and cooperation, and they received nothing but pain. The humans welcomed them at first, but their tune soon changed. They made a move in the dead of night, and half of the primitivists were slaughtered. The remaining half settled here, on Yvan. They retrofitted their ship into a cloaking device, to try to hide themselves from the empire, and thus far it worked.

Thiol landed in a clearing in the forest surrounding their settlement. They strained themself, and the beak retreated back into their face, a snout reformed. They stepped off the ramp of their ship, and saw a group of mounted Yvnivians approaching. Thiol took a glance behind himself at their ship. It was still the same style, but it was now a uniform gray, no longer bearing the gaudy colors of the Klaxx-ons.

The mounted party was now nearly upon Thiol. The thunder of claws on earth subsided, and one individual stepped forwards. They wore a scale helm, with tusks jutting out from the sides. Their mount was a low to the ground chitinous hexapod. A hoofed biped stepped off of the creature. Its skin was covered in fur, but it was armored with scale. Thiol recognized the helm, as something worn by the leader.

“Return to your vessel, at once.” The biped spoke in a low rumble.

“No.” Thiol replied. “I need access to the records of Yelor.”

“Return to your vessel!” The biped repeated, raising a spear.

“I’m invoking the rite of power, I wish to challenge you for your title.” Thiol stared down the biped.

The biped stuck the butt of the spear into the ground in front of him. “That law has not been in effect for generations, as it lead to nothing but strife. If you wish to prove your intentions, then you must help us. Then, I will grant you access to the hall of histories.”



[Next Part]


(Art credit: WordPress Free Photo Library)

Friendship: Part Two

Jonathon sat in a bar on the third moon of Ethyl. He downed his third whiskey and looked around the bar. The walls were made of wood on the inside, but that was just panelling, the outside was made of some kind of secretion they make. The bar was Earth themed on the inside, the walls were bedecked with random traffic signs, records, and newspapers. 

As he was surveying the bar, someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, and all he saw was a fist. 

Jonathon woke up in some kind of holding cell. He looked at the walls of the cell, and saw they were some kind of transparent light barrier. Jonathon spit at the barrier and it ran down the side. Solid then, doesn’t appear to disintegrate anything… He felt at his holsters to see if his captor was smart enough to take his guns, unfortunately his captor was. Jonathon felt the inside of his boots and saw his decoy knives had been taken. He felt along his inner thigh and felt that his hidden knife was still there.

Jonathon scanned the room for cameras, and saw one at every corner of the room, offering a 360 view of him. Jonathon was about to try to stealthily maneuver his knife when he heard a voice.

“You’re awake.” The voice was raspy and deep, definitely Klax-On.

“Indeed I am.” Jonathon looked around the room, but it was too dark to see where the speaker was standing.

“Good.” The speaker walked around in the shadows, Jonathon could hear his boots, but couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

“So, what do you want? The bounty? I assume I still have a bounty.” Jonathon stood to his feet and kept looking for the source of the voice.

“I want you to hurt…” The Klax-On lingered on that last word, savoring it like the last bite of a fine steak. 

“Well, then- AGH!” Jonathon howled in pain and collapsed to the floor as a massive current surged through his body. Jonathon writhed on the floor for a moment and the current stopped.

“I want to hurt you, like you hurt me…” The Klax-On’s voice was dripping with malice.

Jonathon gasped for breath and slowly sat up. “I’m sure, we could work something- AGH!” He fell to the ground again as he was electrocuted. The current continued for about a minute, then ceased. Jonathon gasped for breath and stayed on the ground.

There was a beep and the walls of the cell came down. Jonathon looked up, and a four armed humanoid in black and gold armor stepped into the light, with a large knife in one of his hands. He had an obscene scar on his face, and Jonathon couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen him before.

“Kill me then.” Jonathon glared up at the Klax-On.

“Get up.” The figure stood over Jonathon as he slowly stumbled to his feet. The Klax-On punched Jonathon in the face, sending him falling back down to the ground. “Up.”

Jonathon made no response.

The Klax-On delivered a sharp kick to his ribs. “Up.”

Jonathon rolled over, and looked up. “Just do it.” Jonathon coughed up some blood, and got back to his feet. He swung a fist, but the Klax-On easily stepped out of the way, sending Jonathon tumbling to the ground again. Jonathon reached into his pants and pulled out his knife. Jonathon shouted as he rushed the Klax-On, but he just grabbed Jonathon’s arm, twisting it behind his back. There was a crack and a clang as Jonathon’s arm broke and he dropped his knife. 

Jonathon shouted and fell to the ground in pain. The Klax-On kicked him in the ribs.

“Get off my ship.” The Klax-On pointed to a door. He walked over to a panel on the wall and the door slid open.

Jonathon stumbled towards the door, making no witty remarks, and coughing up blood on the way.

“Wherever you go, I will be following, and each time I catch up will be worse than the last.” The Klax-On slowly walked behind Jonathon, once he was by the door, he kicked Jonathon to the ground outside of the ship and slammed the door shut. The ship took off to the skies.

“Jonny!” Jonathon looked up and saw Laura running towards him from the bar he was at earlier. Jonathon opened his mouth, and collapsed to the ground.



[Previous Part]


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Friendship: Part One

This is a previously established character, the past entry doesn’t really matter for understanding this one, but here’s the link: That’s A Myth


Jonathon waited quietly behind a pile of boxes in a large warehouse. He peaked over the boxes and saw the guard was almost right where he wanted him. He looked over at Laura who was behind a different stack of boxes and nodded. Laura nodded back. Jonathon leapt out and took his shot, blasting the guard to the ground. 

“Halt!” 2 Klax-On guards shouted, as they leveled their weapons at him.

“Alright, surely we can work something out.” Jonathon slowly raised his hands in the air, while secretly flipping a switch on each of his guns.

“No. You are under arrest.” The two guards advanced on him.

“Well, I was hoping that we didn’t have to do this, but…” Jonathon pulled the triggers of both of his guns and blasts fired out of the bottom of each of the handles. The two guards fell to the ground.

Jonathon sighed with relief and lowered his guns. Through the main door to the warehouse, entered a hundred Klax-On soldiers.

“Shit…” Jonathon muttered. Jonathon pressed a button on his wrist, but nothing happened. “Shit!” 

“Jonathon I need more time.” Laura’s voice came in his ears. “They’re headed my way.”

“Shit…” Jonathon looked around the room and saw a pile of crates leading up to a large shelf, that ran across the entire room. Jonathon sprinted to the pile of boxes and began the climb. 

Jonathon pulled himself up boxes and clambered onto the top of the shelf. He paused a moment to catch his breath, then fired both of his guns a few times.

“Alright boys!” Jonathon shouted to the hoard of Klax-On soldiers. “Let’s play king of the hill.”

Jonathon began to pick off Klax-Ons, as the hoard advanced onto the shelf. The soldiers began to make their way to the same stack of boxes Jonathon had climbed, and Jonathon stood near the edge, picking them off as they climbed. Slowly the hoard advanced up the makeshift staircase, climbing on the bodies of their fallen comrades. Suddenly, Jonathon’s guns began to hiss and the triggers locked up. 

“Shit.” Jonathon holstered his guns and sprinted the other way. Jonathon heard and felt the shelf shaking as the hoard stormed towards him. “Laura! You’re out of time!”

“Alright, meet me where we came in.”

“Copy.” Jonathon was almost at the edge of the shelf. He saw the drop, it was about 3 stories down. Normally the Klax-Ons would use a lev-cart, but Jonathon didn’t have one of those, so he was left with few options. He examined the back wall of the warehouse above the hole, and saw there was a bar about halfway down. “That might just do it…” 

Jonathon didn’t pause as he leapt off of the shelf, legs still kicking. He reached his hands above his head, ready to grab the bar and possibly dislocate his shoulders. Jonathon managed to wrap his hands around the bar and catch himself. “Shit!” He yelled as his shoulder popped out of its socket. He let go of the bar and dropped the remaining way to the floor. The impact certainly didn’t feel good, but he was fine.

Jonathon saw Laura sprint past him through the hole they had made in the wall, and Jonathon followed. They ran through the hole and into an alley. The alley was empty, but for a few doors, and a ladder. Laura jumped up onto the ladder and was onto the roof in seconds. Jonathon jumped up and caught the ladder, and made his way up. 

A hand grabbed Jonathon’s leg, almost yanking him off of the ladder, but he caught himself. He looked down and saw a Klax-on wearing what looked like a motorcycle helmet. The Klax-on gripped tightly, and Jonathon yelled in pain. 

Laura approached the edge and slid Jonathon a gun. Jonathon took his shot and the Klax-on dropped to the ground. Jonathon looked down for a moment and saw a smoking hole in the helmet’s visor. 

“Alright let’s go!” Laura pulled Jonathon the rest of the way onto the roof, and the pair hopped into their ship.



[Next Part]


(Art credit: WordPress Free Photo Library)