Post 46

Alright, folks. For the next few blog posts, I would like to try something NEW and DIFFERENT. And I’m very excited about the new story, so hopefully more people will read it this way.

We shall see.

Episode 1

You’re alive. Well, sort of. You are face down on metal grating that tastes like dirt and bad choices. Your head is at an odd angle and your eyes only open slightly, and then, just one at a time. It takes you a moment to realize that you are upside-down, caught between the girders of what used to be your engineering room, but was now filled with orange-yellow smoke and strange shadows that refused to resolve in your mind.

You try to swallow, but your throat is too thick. Drool pools where your tongue should be, seems like it wants to fall out of your mouth, but the heat is so intense, you can feel it drying on your lips.

Your skin. You try to move your head, but whatever pressure wave slammed you into this position has bent the metal around you, burning you so deep, you can’t even feel the pain anymore. You feel something drop and splatter on your head though. For a moment, you think it’s water, until you can see the silver shimmering droplets running down the backs of your hands along your trapped arms. It’s metal. The heat is so intense, it’s starting to melt the ship around you.

You spit, hoping to clear your mouth so you can breathe. The phlegm lands close and sizzles on the twisted remains of your ship. It’s not drool. It’s bloody. Your tongue is so swollen, you’re pretty sure you’re missing teeth, but you can’t feel anything anyway and it occurs to you that it’s a blessing. The lack of pain, not the missing teeth part.

“Quite a predicament you’re in Burke.” The words come from somewhere behind you and are accompanied with a constant faint buzzing you’re only now aware of. You’re pretty sure you have a ruptured ear drum, or something broken making the disembodied voice sound like that. It’s too resonant and it seems to come from everywhere at once. Definitely busted ear drums, you think. You can’t open one of your eyes at all now. The right one is cemented shut, swollen maybe. Or maybe it just fell out. Both seem likely at this point. There’s a creak of the metal as the voice moves around you. A face appears upside-down in front of you. You can barely keep your one eye open and the blood pooling in your head is making it hard to stay conscious. “Whoo-ee. You look like shit. Explosion really did a number on you, huh? Good thing your Hoshi is here for you.”

“Eat shit and die,” you manage to grind out.

“Aw, don’t be like that.” Hoshi flips around the metal girders so he can look at you in the face. His handsome features are still smooth. He’s not even sweating in the molten metal heat. “It’s not my fault that you have all this lovely tracking software in this charming AI and not enough brains to keep it to yourself. What was I supposed to do? Just lie there and NOT take advantage of you?”

“Yes,” you say, trying to ignore his scent. The way it triggers something in you and makes you remember him naked, charming, and lovely from last night. “Die.”

He clucks his tongue at you and brushes fingers over your abused flesh. “Now, I am sorry, poppet. I really am.” He looks around at the shifting heat and shadows in the burned-out engine room. “And sorry about your ship. If you had just handed it over like I’d asked, I wouldn’t have had to put a hole in you like this.”

You try to spit bloody phlegm at him, but your mouth is dry and your tongue is too swollen anyway. You give up, closing your eyes and relaxing into the nice floaty feeling of death you can feel trying to wrap you up. It’d be a relief. You didn’t have any friends or family anyway. No one would miss you. That was the whole reason you’d even bothered to go home with Hoshi last night in the first place. He was charming and you didn’t have anything better to do and…well. Here we are.

“Burke, my love…” you can feel his fingers on your face again, surprisingly cool for a man sitting in a boiling metal box of failing propulsion equipment, toxic gases, and dying environmental controls. You hate that it helps. “…you do look like shit.” You can’t respond, but he doesn’t seem to expect you to. He sighs. “You know, I could get you out of this. Help you out. I’m really all about helping people, you understand. I’m a people person.” Those words make a small hiss of breath come out of your mouth through the red haze that has descended over your brain. He seems to take it in the spirit you offered. “Seriously! I can be a good guy. You know, when it’s profitable.” You’re fading fast and rapidly not giving a fuck about the words coming out of his mouth.

There’s a pause. You can feel his coolness and his sweet scent disappear from in front of you for a moment, then hear the sounds of metal ripping apart. Two more explosions slam around you in pulsating waves of heat and pressure, but you’re blind, and safe, and cushioned on something soft and nothing touches you. You feel like you’re falling and what’s left of your mind leverages open your left eye to see you’re cradled in Hoshi’s arms like a goddamn princess, flung out into the darkness of space. The crinkled, shattered remnants of your ship rapidly disappearing into what can only be a black hole.

Hoshi sees you are awake and looks down at you with genuine fondness. Or at least, what you think might be affection, and smiles at you. You can see his teeth are filed to sharp points. How did you not notice that before? It makes you shudder a little. After another moment, you realize you can see again. That the bleeding is stopped. You can move your limbs. You sit up a little in the bubble craft Hoshi used to infiltrate your ship and realize you’re actually sitting in his lap and your flesh seems to be healing itself. You look back up at him in surprise.

He taps a little biohazard bag on the console near the pilot controls and cuddles you. “Skin sheddings, my dear. Skin sheddings. I always take a couple from my…friends…just in case. You know. Always handy to have a genetic code available when you need it.”

“What the fuck did you do to me?” You ask, watching what you can now see is a flesh-colored slime mold moving over your limbs. Wherever it passes, new flesh regenerates. A thought occurs to you and you quickly reach into your mouth, finding huge clumps of dead white material that you scoop out and fling across the tiny craft.

“Easy, pet. No need to be all dirty. Little regeneration fungus never hurt anyone. It’s all natural and organic.”

“Why?” you ask, trying to move off his lap, only to have his big arms come around you and anchor you more securely to him. “Why are you helping me?”

“A deal, pet.” He rubs his face against yours and you can’t help but breathe him in. “You get to live…and I get you. For a while at least.” You push him away, or try, at least, but he doesn’t budge and you’re not strong enough to make it count.

“I’m not that good in the sack. What’s the real reason?”

“Sex is nice, sure, but I’m…hmm. How to put this? I’m out of fuel and could use your particular skill set in rectifying that condition. And now that I have your excellent tracking technology and AI integration, I need to go on an errand.”

“What kind of errand?” you ask, immediately suspicious and desperately disinterested in doing anything more with this psychopath. “I won’t help you do anything immoral or illegal.”

“Oh, come on. Immoral and illegal? There’s a lot of gray in the world, Burke, surely you want to hear my side of the story first?”

“No.” You cross your arms and pretend that you’re not comfortable. “Whatever it is, it’s probably evil. I don’t want to cross the street with you, much less assist in whatever debauchery you’re trying to do.”

He pouts and it significantly annoys you that he’s very attractive while he pouts. “But, my love, you owe me. Don’t your people have some nonsense about a life debt?”

You uncross your arms, deeply conflicted. “Well, yes, I mean…”

“Aren’t you bound by honor to give your life to me? To fulfill the debt? Isn’t that one of your most sacred and holy tenants propped up by your gods and governments and authority figures and whatnots?”

“I suppose, yes, technically…” you start to say, hating that he does have a point. Citizens have been exiled for not repaying debts and you never thought that you would be facing a life debt. Especially not with this…this…creature.

“Good. It’s settled.” Hoshi snuggles you against him and you’re too weak to resist. “You can fulfill your duty, honor, thing. Whatever. And I get someone to help me play out my little adventure.” Hoshi scrapes his fingernails against your newly revealed collarbone, all shiny and sensitive, making you shiver. “Besides, it could even be fun. You never know.”

The comment makes you profoundly uncomfortable. You again try to pull away, but your hand slips against his chest from the slippery regeneration fungus. He hands you an obviously used handkerchief. “You’re right, of course, pet. You should clean yourself up first before we have any fun.” He gives you a judgmental look. “You still look like shit.”

You try to glare at him, but your eyes are still sore, probably red-rimmed and bloodshot and it hurts too much to try and make a point. You accept the handkerchief, make a small effort, and then give up any pretense to just nap in his lap. Not like you can do anything anyway, and he is surprisingly comfortable.