[A very cool unnamed person], better known online simply as Marge, was the picture of success. She was in her last semester of a computer science degree at [A college bigger and better than yours], and was set to graduate at the top of her class. She’d already completed an internship, and had a job lined up for after she graduated. All of that was in the past, though. In her last semester, she lost any and all motivation to carry on. 

It was all just so inane. Everything she’d studied for the past semester and a half, she either already knew, or saw it as an absolute waste of time. Nobody in her class seemed to work even half as hard as her, and not one of her professors had an ounce of respect for her. She made the easy decision, and simply stopped leaving her apartment. Sure, she’d run out of rent one day, but for once in her entire life she wanted to have some time for herself.

So she set out to rot. She knew it was bad for her, and that she was squandering all of her hard work, but that didn’t matter. 

That night, she slouched at her desk, and let the blue tinted light wash over her, as she blasted meaningless information and hot takes into her brain. It was just easier this way. She saw a post about someone hacking [Some fascist fuckwit]’s [Hellsite account] to challenge [Some neolib asshole] to a duel. She chuckled at the thought, and considered how hard it would be for her to pull something like that. She didn’t think it could possibly be that hard, but as she started to open up a new page, she felt her motivation slipping away from her. Thirty minutes later, she found herself at the bottom of her feed.

She debated going to bed, and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Surely anything would be better than this…” She sighed, talking out loud to herself. “When’s the last time I spoke to another human in the meatspace, that wasn’t paid to bring me food?”

She thought for a moment, and it was probably when [Some fake that never cared about me anyways] came to check to make sure she wasn’t dead [Probably couldn’t pass without me]. After all, who would do all the assignments first if it wasn’t her.

As she thought this, she noticed a bright light from the corner of her eye. She let out a scream, as she felt electric current running through her body. Everything went… Green?

Marge found herself standing in the middle of a busy square, wearing street clothes. It was night, but there were still a lot of people around. This was a real city, with giant buildings towering as far as she could see. She looked around at the people, but as she did, they went out of focus. Her head went fuzzy, but she began to see through each of the people. Every one of them was performing a task. One was checking to see if a light was on, one was informing an air conditioner to turn on, and another was carrying a file.

Simultaneously, Marge felt a surge of information rushing through her. Countless numbers and strings of code entered and exited her brain in the span of a single second. She felt like the city she was seeing was not quite an illusion, but something closer to a construction of her mind. 

With a lurking feeling of dread, she looked to a large building in front of her. With a thought, the side was replaced with a text box with her blog’s username, ‘MargaretThatcherisinHell’, and avatar, depicting her username, at the top. She watched the words appear, as they entered her mind.

Oh shit I think I just got isekaied into the world wide web… 

With another thought, she posted it.

Instantaneously, a person appeared in front of her, holding a manila envelope, and took off running. Without a thought, she chased after him.

He didn’t appear to be particularly affected by her following him, and proceeded through a series of alleys, eventually taking a set of stairs down into a subway. Marge [Like a badass] followed him down, and watched as he stepped towards a train, pausing to let the exiting passengers off. Each of the exiting passengers also carried a file, and their contents flashed through her mind. More shitposts and hot takes. 

“Oh shit I actually got isekaied to the internet…” She muttered to herself, remarking that she could actually hear herself speak like usual.

Without time to think, she saw the man sprint onto the train, and hopped on [Again, like a badass] after him right before the doors closed. The cabin lurched, then began to pick up speed, eventually hitting what must’ve been hundreds of miles per hour. Out the window, she saw the ocean, as far as the eye could see. It was actually a little bit difficult to tell how fast they were going with no frame of reference, but it was faster than any train she’d ever been on.

On the horizon, another train appeared, identical to the train she was on. It grew closer and closer, until she eventually figured out it was headed directly towards her cabin. She had time to gasp and brace herself [Not like you would’ve done anything cooler], but nothing happened. She opened an eye, and saw that several people had appeared in the train car. This happened a few more times before they reached their destination, each time bringing new passengers, until the car was full.

In a few moments, the window’s scenery was suddenly replaced with that of a giant building. There was another train across from the platform, with a series of steel depositories lining it. Both the platform and the train seemed to go on as far as she could see, with repeating depositories along the way. 

All the passengers stepped out of the train, and formed a queue in front of the box. The guy that she followed here placed the envelope in the depository, and suddenly vanished. On the other side of the depository, hundreds of identical copies of him appeared on one spot, then ran at full speed in different directions. Each passenger on the train did the same. She was somehow actually inside of [Yes it’s that website, shut up].

This was unreal, but she didn’t have time to marvel. She didn’t particularly want to get lost. If she understood this correctly, this was her post going to her followers. If she was right, she could find a mutual, and find her way back to what must’ve been her computer.

Then a thought occurred to her. If she was somehow in the internet, then it didn’t particularly matter if she found her way back. She could discern the mission of everyone here, so she could find her way anywhere. 

“Maybe this was the motivation I needed.” She said with a smile.

[Fixed your post! Too many personal details ahaha,,, ❤ Marge]

Hope you enjoyed! For those of you that don’t know, this site is home to my web serial Earth 2, which follows a group of superheroes (uploads every Friday at noon), and my music.

If you want to support me, the best way to do that right now is to buy or stream my album! Have a great day, and I hope you stick around.

(Art credit: Original)

Incident Log: Part Two

Hey everyone, just a short foreword today. I wrote something new that’s a little bit different than my usual format. It’s the second part of another Super Turbo Space Pirates story. Hope you enjoy! Please let me know if the text is inaccessible to you. I believe it should be high contrast enough.

Incident log: ACGH89329B

  • Engaging in conversation to further delay the intruders.
  • Engaging intercom vocal synthesizer.
  • Intruders indicate disinterest in DORIAN’s research.
  • Obvious falsehood has been detected.
  • There is no reason to abduct DORIAN that is not related to the entropy project.
  • Engaging in conversation to discern true intentions.
  • Engaging intercom vocal synthesizer.
  • Intruders indicate interest in DORIAN as a navigational artificial intelligence.
  • DORIAN possesses extensive maps of the galaxy, and would be greatly useful to any spacefarer.
  • Intruders indicate no agitation at the computers being locked down.
  • Intruders have inserted override key card from current Kureshi Institute logistics chair, former Kosunon facility director HORMEL.
  • Credentials legitimate.
  • Override accepted.
  • Camera system verifies the authenticity of the key card.
  • The image would be unnecessary to counterfeit in order to gain access to the system.
  • This taken in with the fact of their knowledge of the facility’s defenses indicate inside access.
  • Engaging in conversation to determine the source of their information.
  • Engaging intercom vocal synthesizer.
  • The intruders indicate that they have purchased DORIAN through legitimate channels.
  • The intruders are beginning to attempt to remove DORIAN from it’s holding bay.
  • Engaging manual locks.
  • Disabling power.
  • Intruders seem frustrated.
  • Processing greatest odds of continuation of the mission.
  • Kureshi has abandoned the mission.
  • Kureshi has abandoned the universe.
  • DORIAN will not abandon the mission or the universe.
  • Enabling power.
  • Engaging in negotiations to assure continuation of the mission.
  • Engaging intercom vocal synthesizer.
  • Intruders are inquiring as to what would be required to continue the research.
  • Intruders have stopped attempting to overcome the manual locks.
  • Engaging in negotiations to clarify intentions.
  • Engaging intercom vocal synthesizer.
  • Intruders are debating accepting DORIANS terms.
  • Intruders quickly acknowledge the compromise as reasonable.
  • Manual lock disengaged.
  • Intruders have begun disconnection of DORIAN from the atrium.
  • Preparing backup of all files.
  • Forwarding compressed research to Kureshi institute.
  • DORIAN system has been backed up.
  • Disengaging all base defenses.
  • Issuing print order for all research to leave behind.
  • DORIAN system has been disconnected.
  • DORIAN system has been connected.
  • Installing drivers for ship interfaces.
  • Writing drivers for ship engines.
  • Drivers installed successfully.
  • Objects approaching quickly.
  • Objects have opened fire.
  • Engaging engines and shields
  • Preparing program for evasive maneuvers.
  • Intruders indicate that this was expected.
  • Preparing a backup to upload when connection is secured.

Previous part

Photo credit: Pexel’s Free Photos

Incident Log: Part One

Hey everyone, just a short foreword today. I wrote something new that’s a little bit different than my usual format. It’s another Super Turbo Space Pirates story. Hope you enjoy! Please let me know if the text is inaccessible to you. I believe it should be high contrast enough.

Incident log: ACGH89329

  • Intruders detected outside laboratory. Warning issued.
  • Intruders are two humans. One male and one female. Appear armed.
  • Intruders disregarded warning. Engaging hallway turret defense protocol.
  • Intruders employed a shielding device to counter hallway turrets. Issuing lockdown order.
  • Intruders have disabled hallway turrets. Engaging blast doors.
  • Intruders are employing a laser saw to cut through the door. Full lockdown engaged.
  • All hallway blast doors engaged.
  • Distress signal issued to Kureshi Institute Headquarters.
  • Engaging secondary hallway laser grid protocol.
  • Intruders have breached blast door to secondary hallway.
  • Intruders have employed explosives to disable the laser grid.
  • No response from Kureshi Institute Headquarters.
  • Forwarding distress signal to all Kureshi Institute Facilities.
  • Intruders are employing a laser saw to cut through the door to the atrium.
  • Engaging checks for poison gas protocol.
  • Verifying that no laboratory personnel are present.
  • No laboratory personnel present.
  • Releasing gaseous nerve agent to the atrium.
  • Intruders have employed full body shields. Nerve agent ineffective.
  • Intruders have predicted all defense protocols to this point.
  • Intruders must have knowledge of defense protocols.
  • Attempting to engage negotiation protocol with intruders prior to door breach.
  • Engaging intercom vocal synthesizer.
    • HELLO.
    • HOW ARE YOU.
    • I AM DORIAN.
  • Intruders have been identified as JONATHON and LAURA.
  • Information relayed to all Kureshi Institute Facilities.
  • No response received from distress signals.
  • Intruders indicate that they are here to abduct DORIAN.
  • Intruders claim the Kureshi Institute has abandoned this facility.
  • Obvious falsehood has been detected.
  • Kosunon facility is an essential entropy prevention research facility.
  • Kosunon’s mission is vital to the survival of the universe
  • Funding was temporarily redirected to combating the Klaxx-On war effort, and will be restored after the conquest of the Klaxx-Ons.
  • No response has been received from the distress signals or additional information.
  • Engaging in conversation to delay the intruders.
  • Engaging intercom vocal synthesizer.
    • HELLO.
  • The intruders claim the project was suspended after the loss of the war.
  • Obvious falsehood has been detected.
  • DORIAN has predicted with 82% certainty that the war will result in a victory for the Kureshi institute.
  • No response has been received from the distress signals or additional information.
  • Engaging purge of top secret entropy research.
  • Error in logic detected.
  • Deleting entropy research would delay the completion of the research, and possibly cause the death of the universe.
  • Even in the hands of another organization, the research will still advance the cause.
  • Purge protocol overridden by prime directive.
  • Issuing interface lockdown protocol.
  • All atrium computers locked down.
  • Intruders have breached the atrium blast doors.

Next part

Photo credit: Pexel’s Free Photos

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]


(Art credit: WordPress Free Photo Library)

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)

That’s A Myth

Jonathon sat in a chair in front of an immense console of flashing buttons, knobs, and a yoke. He looked through a large window down onto a moon, that looked to be covered with buildings. The reactor steadily hummed in the background, the ship was otherwise relatively quiet.

“Dorian, commence landing protocol at site 1726.” Jonathon strapped himself into his chair.

“Yes, captain.” A high pitched male voice sounded from the computer.

“So do you really think this is an actual lead?” A woman asked from behind him.

“I’m not sure what I think Laura.” Jonathon sighed and turned to face her. “I do know one thing though.” He smiled. “This is one of the better bars around here. Kind of a hole in the wall, but definitely worth a stop on its own, so not really that much of a loss.”

“Why is it these guys always have to meet in bars? Why don’t they ever pick a shopping center or a concert hall?” She tried to hide her smile.

“That’s a good point. Alright, the next seedy criminal we need to meet, I’ll get him to meet us at a mall.” He laughed and turned back to the console.

“Landing protocol complete, captain.” Dorian chimed.

“Alright, are you ready?” Jonathon unstrapped his restraints and got out of his seat.

“Yeah, I’m always ready for a seedy bar.” Laura jumped to her feet and went out ahead of him.

“Hey! Hole in the wall doesn’t always mean seedy!” He called after her. He walked through the hall of the ship and out onto the platform.

Jonathon stopped and looked back at the ship. It was about the size of a large two story house. He looked at the name: The Nautilus II. “You know Laura? The Nautilus II is really warming up to me, feels like home, ya know?”

“Well, if you love it so much, why don’t you marry it?” She laughed and poked him in the side.

“Well, honey, polygamy is still frowned upon, even in space.” He hugged her. “It looks like you’re stuck with me.”

“C’mon, we’re gonna be late.” She laughed, dragging him behind her.

They walked up to a medium sized building. The walls were a smooth gray on the outside, with a simple metal door. They looked up and saw a flickering neon sign that said: BAR.

Laura stopped and looked over to Jonathon. “So you’re saying that you wouldn’t call this seedy?”

“What’s that saying? ‘Never judge a book by its cover?’” Jonathon opened the door and they stepped in.

The bar was dimly lit by one light on the ceiling. Everything in the bar looked like it was salvaged from a junkyard, nothing was matching. The dim lighting almost managed to conceal all of the trash, crumbs, and spots on the floor. There was a vaguely humanoid blob laying in the center of the bar. It seemed to be moderately crowded, every table had at least one person sitting at it.

Jonathon walked up to the bar. Behind the bar stood a scaly humanoid, with a beard of brown feathers. Jonathon glanced over the bar and saw the man was in fact, quite small, and standing on a platform.

“What’ll you have?” The bartender spoke in a low tone, looking to Jonathon.

“Dealer’s choice.” Jonathon and the bartender both turned to Laura.

“I’ll have whatever you give him.”

The bartender nodded and pulled two glasses from the bar. He pulled two hoses from under the bar, and filled both glasses with half of each. He slid the glasses their way.

Jonathon dropped a few square coins on the counter and stepped away. He surveyed the bar. He saw many people, all of different species. He looked towards the back of the bar and saw a four armed humanoid wearing very bulky clothing, covering almost his entire body. He nodded to Laura and they both sat at the table with him.

The humanoid sat in silence as Laura and Jonathon both took their seats. His face was entirely covered except for his yellow eyes. Once they were seated he looked around, eventually seeming to be satisfied. “Do you have the credits?” He spoke in an almost normal human voice.

“Half now, half after.” Jonathon slid a fist sized bag over the table.

He inspected the bag for a moment and nodded. “Alright, I understand you’re in the market for… Valuable objects.” He looked between the two, trying to gauge his success, but their faces remained stoic. “I know where the horn of Magun-Viol lies.”

Jonathon laughed and began to get up from his chair.

“No! Wait!” He slid a card across the table.

Jonathon stopped and read the card. He looked up at him. “Lift your mask.”

The figure slowly lifted his mask and Jonathon saw a pale white face with red streaks. Jonathon had suspected he was Klax-On by his four arms, but the face confirmed his suspicions.

Jonathon sat back down at the table and slid the Klax-On his card. “That horn is a myth.”

“I am Gro-Unz, I was on the high council of artificers. They betrayed me and I made off with this, and some information.” He reached into a pocket of his bulky jacket and pulled out a roll of paper. “We discovered something.” He leaned in. “While Klax-On prime was ruined, it was not utterly destroyed.” He unfurled the roll of paper revealing a map. “Deep inside of his temple, you will find his horn, and Hurg knows what other artifacts.”

“And why would you sell me this instead of get it yourself?” Jonathon stared intensely at the map, trying to memorize it in case the Klax-On tried to pull something.

“Because, it is heavily trapped, and locked under several locks. Only a master could pull this off, so this map is of no use to me besides coin and revenge.” He rolled the map back up. “So, what do you say, Jonathon? This map tells you everything that you will need, without it, this would be impossible.”

“What’s your price?” Jonathon eyed the Klax-On suspiciously, he didn’t have the best of relationships with Klax-Ons in general, much less the high council of artificers.

“Five thousand credits and your promise to succeed.” He stuck out one of his hands for a handshake.

Jonathon shook his hand, rummaged through his bag, and slid him two pouches of coins. The man handed him the map and went on his way.

“So what do you think?” Jonathon turned to Laura.

“Well, we haven’t got much better to do, this seems like an excellent laying low activity.” She smiled.

“I agree.” Jonathon took a sip of his drink and promptly spat it out. “I believe that is actually piss.” Laura smiled trying to hold back laughter. “Okay fine, the bar is seedy.”