A New Direction - Chapter 1?
By Misty Steppes
Note: This is a story set in the Whateley Academy Universe, but it is non-canon, and written without explicit permission - that being said, I'm going to do my best to remain within the bounds of the canon stories' events. Many thanks to Maggie Finson and all of the wonderful WA authors for this playground!
Welp. WS and DQ both have chapters sitting mostly done, but my muse decided it was heading over to Whateley-land today, and this puppy appeared out of nowhere. I'm considering this a Preview chapter - I don't know if I'm going to continue this story, but I want to know what y'all think. (I have also taken a mite of inspiration from a certain relatively new video game... if you recognize it, kudos!) All that being said, it's time for A New Direction!
“With those expenses subtracted, we’re left with just under $800 remaining in the budget. I suggest we adjourn with that amount untouched, leaving room for projects and suggestions during the year, once the REAL new member rush starts.”
I flipped my notebook shut, and glanced around the table in front of me. Polite nods all around came in response to my summary, and I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Good summary, Treasurer Davies. Thanks for your quick work.” I smiled - that would be John Andrews, president of our little club and the one who recruited me in the first place.
Let me put things into context a little.
Best as I can remember, this is the day it all began. I was sitting in a club meeting for the Forge, Blackmoor High’s resident makerspace and hangout for the particularly STEM-inclined. At the time, I was actually an incoming freshman, so I wasn’t even a student yet - but the previous Treasurer had been kicked out for “dereliction of duty”, and John knew I had a way with money.
John was my neighbor, as it happened. When we were little we used to put together “businesses” around the block, lemonade stands, lawn mowing, you name it - and no matter what it was, we always seemed to turn a tidy profit. I seemed to have an eye for what someone was willing to pay, or earn, so even back then I would change what I charged or what I offered to pay for our various goods and services - still have all the notebooks from those days, I think.
Anyway, John apparently still remembered those days, so as soon as he heard I was going to BHS, I got a call…
“Ethan! Phone’s for you!”
“Coming!”
I slid off my bed, leaving behind the pile of notebooks I’d been sorting through. I glanced at the one still in my hand - Favors, H-M… I’ll sort it later. - and tossed it onto the ever-growing stack. My door slammed shut behind me, and I took the dark wooden stairs to my left a few steps at once, hopping the railing once I was most of the way down. My mother awaited me at the bottom, her typical mix of a disapproving glare and a bemused smirk greeting me. What can I say? Time is money.
She handed me the phone without a word, though the look on her face before she turned away told me what I already knew - it was something to do with my business endeavors.
“Ethan, this is John. I’m calling in my last favor.” Yup.
“Alright. Whaddaya need, chief?” I started walking back up the stairs with the phone tucked between my ear and shoulder - need to write down this transaction before I forget.
“I need you to be the Treasurer for BHS Forge.” If I’d been drinking anything at the time, I would have performed a flawless spit-take. Excuse me?
“Real quick: First of all, I’m not a student yet. Second of all, officers of BHS clubs are almost always upperclassmen. Third of all, what the HELL makes you think you can use a favor on THAT?”
“Well, as for the first two, neither one actually breaks the club rules - convention has never bothered you before. And if I remember rightly, your exact words were ‘A favor can be used on anything both sides agree on’...” I didn’t know you could hear a smirk, but in that moment I definitely could. My poor doorframe took the brunt of my annoyance in that moment, as I once again slammed the door behind me and plopped down onto my mattress.
I started rummaging through the stack of notebooks still laying askew on my bed, grumbling quietly to myself before I finally responded. “Exactly. I have to agree to it. Sell me on it.””
“Being an officer will give you a better platform to set up your other services,” he pointed out, the grin on his face almost audible, “and you’ll get free Forge membership and manager privileges, not that you have time for such things with your business stuff.”
I hated that I was actually considering this. There was a reason I was sorting through all my notebooks - most of them were lists of favors owed either to or by me, sorted by the debtor/lender’s last name, and I had been planning to get out of the game before high school. I’d call in all my favors with people in the area and people going to Blackmoor High, just exchange for cash if they didn’t have anything I needed, and go join some clubs like a normal student. The last thing I needed was a platform to boost my influence as a fixer.
Oh, the pull of the free market…
“Goddammit Andrews. Fine, but I’m charging you two favors for it, so my debt is clear and YOU owe ME one now.” Finally locating “Favors A-G”, I flipped over to John’s name, where a long list of previous transactions took up almost a full page.
“Done. Pleasure doing business, Mr. Treasurer. Meet me at the West entrance of the school on Monday.”
“Excuse me? It’s still summer, you piece of sh…” The low buzz of the phone’s dial tone cut me off more effectively than the glare I received from my mother in the other room.
Shit.
T-0, current memory flow
The meeting came to a swift end, the rest of the board ultimately approving my spending plan for the space, and soon the room was all but empty - with two weeks left in summer, everyone had places to be. I tucked my notebook into my backpack, briefly admiring the shiny BHS Forge logo on its cover before it disappeared from view. I stood up, leaned over to bump the lightswitch on my way out, and started to head home.
I had just made it halfway down the hallway leading to the exit when I felt a familiar nudge against my back.
“You had any new business lately?” John had always taken a casual interest in my activities, though I guess no more than a lot of other people. My line of work wasn’t exactly common around here, after all - people in the business of getting things done are unfortunately rare.
“Not really. Thanks to you, my summer’s been plenty busy anyway,” I glared at him, earning a smirk in reply, “but without school drama and classes to get people worked up, I don’t really get many people asking for help.”
“Sorry,” he chuckled, no remorse whatsoever in his eyes. “I know it’s a hassle, but The Board can really use your help.”
I stumbled all of a sudden, and my vision started to blur. I opened my mouth to respond to John, but before I could get a word out everything went dark.
Going from a total blackout to a landscape of pure white was a weird feeling. An endless sea of emptiness… a weird dream?
“Ahem.” I spun around, revealing the mysterious cougher… coughers?
Interrupting the pale void sat nine dark figures, silhouettes evenly positioned around a U-shaped table. I couldn’t see their eyes, and yet somehow I could feel their gazes boring into me. The silence of the space was interrupted by unintelligible muttering. I tried to speak up, but I found that I couldn’t - I started to panic, started to back away from them, and the world faded to black once more…
I groggily opened my eyes. The familiar beige walls of the school hallway were back.
The hell was that?
“You good, E?” John reached out a hand, pulling me to my feet.
I grinned sheepishly, “I’m fine, I’m fine. The heat must’ve gotten to me.” I doubt it, but no use worrying him over nothing.
“If you say so…” He looked skeptical, but eventually shrugged and kept walking towards the door.
“By the way, have your eyes always been grey?”
~To be continued?~
Yes, I know it's short - my muse is already pushing me to do a re-write that may almost triple the word count of these scenes alone, and I'm having to tell it no quite forcefully. As always, comments, concerns, complaints, questions, and kudos are always welcome!
A New Direction - Chapter 2
By Misty Steppes
Note: This is a story set in the Whateley Academy Universe, but it is non-canon, and written without explicit permission - that being said, I'm going to do my best to remain within the bounds of the canon stories' events. Many thanks to Maggie Finson and all of the wonderful WA authors for this playground!
I was originally going to sit on this a couple weeks, to both gauge interest and give myself some ideas, but my muse decided to spit out three thousand words, and suddenly it was three in the morning with a double-length chapter sitting in front of me. And lo, this chapter was born!
“Eh? My eyes are blue, dipshit. Stop messing with me.”
I punched John in the arm lightly, and started following him outside. He looked back at me again, but shrugged and didn’t say anything. Well that was weird. But okay.
It wasn’t as if I wasn’t familiar with how mutant manifestations worked. I’d heard that changing eyes was often one of the tell-tale signs - but it could just as easily be a trick of the light, a change over time, or any number of other things, including John messing with me. Somehow, though, I suspected it wasn’t any of those... I just shook my head. Not worth worrying about at the moment.
The two of us walked the whole way home, and thankfully my strange bout of unconsciousness didn’t return. I wasn’t oblivious of the weird looks John kept giving me, and the awkward silence didn’t help either - I was lost in thought pretty much the whole time. Was I a mutant? I couldn’t see my own damn eyes, since I didn’t have a phone and the closest mirror was in my house, but I had no good reason to distrust John, especially with how he was acting. How would my family take it? My friends? When John said his goodbyes and walked up his driveway, I barely noticed. My dad waved at me from the front yard of our house, mowing the lawn, but I didn’t respond - instead I hurried inside through the unlocked front door, and stumbled up the stairs and into the bathroom. I looked in the mirror.
Well that settles that…
Staring back at me, besides my normal pale skin and messy brown hair, were a pair of cloudy grey eyes. They seemed slightly larger, as well - not unnaturally so, but all the same. There was no hint of their former sky blue, a trait I had originally shared with my mother. Speaking of,
“Mom!” I yelled, and I quickly heard her footfalls on the stairs. She appeared in the doorway - our eyes met, and she knew immediately what was wrong.
“Oh, hun... “ She enveloped me in a bone-crushing hug, and I gasped for breath before she eased up. “You’ll be alright. I’ll see if there’s a good powers-testing place nearby, my friend Katie should know, and we’ll get you sorted.
“You should get some rest, alright?” I opened my mouth to protest, but as she withdrew from the hug I got a withering glare that stopped me mid-breath. “I may not be a mutant, but I’ve heard manifestation can be rough on you. I’ll not have my son getting hurt because he can’t be cautious!” I was subsequently frogmarched to my room, and off my mother went to be her usual hurricane of activity - even more so than usual, at that.
I flopped back onto my bed with a sigh. The notebooks I had piled there spilled over the edge of the mattress and onto the ground, but I couldn’t be bothered to pick them up. Now what the hell am I going to do now?
Staring up at the ceiling, my eyes began to grow heavy, which I thought was odd - it was only like two in the afternoon. My head started to get warm... then the rest of my body... and the darkness returned once again.
~o~O~o~
The endless white void had returned once again. My sudden fatigue had disappeared just as quickly as it had arrived, but the weird warm feeling was still there. Unlike my last visit, the strange seated silhouettes were now directly in front of me from the start - but once again they seemed to be staring at me. I just looked back at all nine of them awkwardly.
Their murmuring and hushed discussions returned, but this time I could catch the occasional word: “Manifestation… Host… Director.” The first one made sense, given previous events in the waking world. The other two? Not so much.
I tried my hand at speaking again, and to my surprise, “Umm… hi?” My voice rang out in the void. It sounded kind of weird, in a way I couldn’t place.
“Hey, boss.” I whirled around again, even more surprised than I was in my first visit to the void.
“Wosh, boss! Chill.” Standing opposite me was a professionally dressed young woman, her black hair and suit both in stark contrast to the white background. The easy smile on her face put me somewhat at ease, but can you blame me for being weirded out? She offered a hand, and I reluctantly shook it.
She laughed, “I’m sure this is weird for you, boss, but that’s why I’m here. Those old farts,” she gestured to the silhouettes behind me, “aren’t quite fully formed up here yet, so I have to do a little translation and messenger work in the meantime.”
I interrupted her before she continued, “Where are we, anyway?”
“In your head, of course.”
“Wha-?” She cut me off.
“It’ll all be clear in time, boss. Trust me. With that out of the way, allow me to introduce myself. My name is… hard to pronounce, but you can call me Brynn. I’m your... I guess secretary is right? Yeah. Secretary.” She gave an impromptu curtsy, breaking into laughter halfway through.
“My secretary? Why do I need a secretary?”
“Because you’re the Director, of course. All company executives need a secretary, right?”
I don’t know. Do they? I decided to just roll with it for the moment, and nodded, letting her continue.
“Anyway, those geezers are the Board, and you’ve been chosen to be the Director. We are collectively the Company, and you’re in charge of the whole shebang - though obviously you get your power from the Board.” Brynn said all of this like it was obvious, but I still had absolutely no goddamn clue what was going on. I glanced behind me, and the shadow people were still sitting at their table.
“And what’s this Company? What does it… we… do?”
“Whatever you tell us to, of course,” she said, totally deadpan. I blinked.
“I got that bit. I mean- My question is, what purpose does the company serve? I don’t need a company, or a board. I’m just a highschooler, not even yet.”
“Well I’m sure the board has goals, but what they are they haven’t told me - and ultimately, they can’t really just pick another Director, for... reasons.” Well if that wasn’t an obvious signal that she was hiding things from me, I didn’t know what was. I raised an eyebrow at her, and she stammered, “Some of this is stuff the Board wants to communicate on their own. They don’t want me jumping the gun, and I don’t want them mad at me.”
“Fine. I’ll deal with it for now… Brynn, right?” She nodded. “So what powers does this Board give me?”
“Damned if I know. I’m sure they could tell you, if not for that whole ‘not fully formed’ thing.”
“Then... why are you here?”
Brynn looked down at her feet, and I kind of felt bad. “Umm… I think you’ll figure out most of it once you wake up.” She paused for a moment, and jumped - she had a grin on her face now. “Oh! There is one thing I can help you with, though.”
Oh? I looked at her, waiting for her to continue.
“Alright. So close your eyes, and imagine a company boardroom.” Seemed easy enough. I closed my eyes, and tried to remember what a boardroom should look like. Marble floors… probably glass walls, that look out onto the rest of the building. Maybe it’s that fancy glass that frosts when you flip a switch. For some reason my mind kept going back to the U-shaped table that the Board had, but then another rectangular table opposite to it, bringing it full circle.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Okay, now open your eyes.” The void had vanished - or, at least, been pushed back a little. Everything I’d imagine now surrounded us, right down to the electric frosted glass (I spotted the tell-tale switch) and the extra table in front of the board. Unfortunately, the Board members themselves were still just shadows, but it was an improvement on the endless white void.
“Tadaaaa,” Brynn did a little twirl, and her heels clicked on the new marble floor. “Fancy, right? You can do pretty much whatever you want in here. Perks of being the Director, I s’pose.”
I imagined a pair of those nice Aeron chairs, and they popped into existence in front of us. Convenient, I thought to myself, and wearily dropped into one of them, gesturing for Brynn to do the same.
“So. How do I wake up, anyway?” I pinched myself, but all I got for my trouble was a slight red mark on my arm that quickly faded. Brynn stifled a giggle in response, saying, “Well, from what I can tell, you’re finishing your manifestation right now. I don’t get how any of it works, but supposedly the Board is devoting a not-insignificant amount of energy into speeding the process up, partially to keep you from the stress of an extended transformation, and partially to get the ball rolling on the Company’s development. Even with that, though, I suspect you’ll be stuck here for a couple hours.”
“Well that sucks, but I guess it’s better than the alternative?” I didn’t really know what the alternative would be like, but my “secretary” nodded solemnly.
“Indeed. So,” Brynn clapped her hands, “tell me a little about yourself.”
~o~O~o~
We spent the next couple hours just talking about ourselves. I was doing most of the talking - Brynn was strangely vague, and all I really got out of her was that she had a bunch of younger sisters, and that they were always fighting so it was pretty stressful. She wouldn’t even tell me their names - I started to press her, but I eventually let it go.
Instead, I told her about my family, from the hurricane that was my mom and her management work to my dad being a stay-at-home programmer who mostly spent his days waiting for work, only to make handsome sums off of new contracts. Then there was my older brother, and my younger sister - the former, Brandon, was off at college in New York, while the latter, Savannah, had just started middle school at my alma mater, Blackmoor Middle. The larger age gap between Brandon and I meant that we got along a little better - our childhoods didn’t really overlap too much, so he was able to do the whole “guardian angel” thing without me being too much of an annoyance. Savannah, on the other hand, was only a couple years behind me, and we clashed at pretty much every turn - I eventually learned to just keep my distance and let her do her thing, not that that kept me entirely out of trouble even then.
I felt a little bit bad complaining to Brynn about my family life, but she just laughed and waved me off when I tried to apologize. So that eventually led to me talking about how I got pretty much no attention from my parents whenever my sister was around, and she was pretty much all they talked about. That was actually what led me to the whole “favors” thing in the first place - it made me feel like I was important, and that I was actually valuable to people. Weird, I guess, but it worked for me.
I started talking about my “business”, which seemed to catch her interest, but as I got into the specifics I started to feel warm and fuzzy again. My eyes felt heavy, and I struggled to keep them open. Brynn just smiled at me, and held my hand.
“Looks like you’re ready to wake up. No need to fight it.”
I nodded slightly, and let the fatigue wash over me. Leaning back in the chair, I felt my body grow lighter, and I started to drift off.
“Sweet dreams… Fiona.”
~o~O~o~
The real world slowly returned to me, and I blinked quickly to try to adapt to the light. My eyes felt weird… my face felt weird… shit, EVERYTHING felt weird. For one, my weight seemed way off - most of my body seemed lighter, except for my upper body, which seemed heavier if anything. Second, everything seemed way clearer - as my eyes finally finished adjusting, I discovered that I could pick out details on the ceiling that I definitely couldn’t before, and even the relatively plain color of the ceiling seemed way more vibrant than before. Third of all… I looked down. ...A large pair of lumps said on my chest, threatening to tear through the shirt I had gone to sleep in. Naturally, I did what any real manly man would do: Screamed my head off.
The real kicker, of course, was that my scream sounded even more like that of a damsel in distress than it would before I woke up like this. I don’t even know how to describe those typical “damsel screams” in movies, but this was that.
I was frozen in shock for a while, even after my screaming stopped. A minute later I heard the door open - I couldn’t bring myself to turn my head and look, but I already knew it was my mom again.
“Oh my god, Ethan…” She just stood there for a moment, but eventually I got smothered by yet another hug. The… lumps… on my chest made the hug feel pretty weird, but I wasn’t going to push her away. My cheek felt wet - I wasn’t sure if it was my tears, hers, or both. Eventually, though, she drew back and stood up.
“I was going to schedule powers testing for this weekend… but somehow I think we should move that up. I’m gonna see if Katie can come over-” She saw the fear in my face at the idea of anyone else seeing me like this. “I know, honey, but she’s the only mutant I know who might be able to help us. While I go call her, you should go take a look at yourself - no use just laying here.” After planting a kiss on my forehead, I heard her walk off, and I heard the sound of my door clicking shut.
“Welp,” I said to myself, and immediately covered my mouth - the smooth, feminine sound that was coming from my own lips just felt wrong. I closed my eyes. Alright, Ethan. Let’s get this over with.
Slowly, I rose to my feet, doing my best to ignore the weird feelings from every part of my body. The wobbling of my chest. The twisting of my hips and waist. The weight of the hair on my head and the weird shape of my lips. No! Stop. Keep walking. I grit my teeth, stared straight ahead, and pulled the door open. The walk to the bathroom was the strangest experience of my life, my earlier weird dreams included, but I made it across the hall and to the bathroom. Then I looked in the full-body mirror that awaited me.
I didn’t recognize the girl in the mirror.
Flowing golden blonde locks framed her perfect heart-shaped face, flowing all the way down to the middle of her back. Her long, thick eyelashes and piercing grey eyes were entrancing, but so too were her lips - perfectly formed in a cupid’s bow, puffy and inviting. Her dainty, upturned nose and high, yet softly defined cheekbones completed the enchantment that was her face, and I almost couldn’t bring myself to look further downward - but so I did. Slim shoulders were the prelude to generous cleavage, that judging by its protrusion from her t-shirt definitely didn’t belong on a fourteen year old. Despite their size, they seemed to defy gravity inside the shirt, pushing it up enough to reveal a small amount of her midriff - the trim, almost impossibly thin waist just barely visible under the shirt. Supporting it was a pair of wide hips that stretched the elastic of her sweatpants, and everything below that was secreted away beneath the loose legs of the sweats. Needless to say, even in this casual wear she seemed to be impossibly beautiful.
The problem was that she was me.
Sage Sakamoto is just an average kid, living his high school life in Southern California. It just so happens he also spends his nights breaking local street racing records, without anyone knowing. Nothing could possibly come of that... right?
Drift Queens - Chapter 1
By Misty Steppes
I promise there’ll be more Warped Space soon - my muse just decided this would be an interesting story, so this first chapter popped into existence. Maybe I’m reading too much WolfJess :P. The title is subject to change, and this chapter definitely needs a rework at some point if I’m going to turn it into a story, but let me know what you think!
There were very few things that the perpetual dry heat of California was good for, and cruising down the PCH with the evening air whipping by happened to be one of them. My hair had long since been pulled back by the wind, streaking behind me even despite being tied back as best I could. Not that it was even that windy at the time - I just happened to be doing a hundred miles an hour in a convertible.
The windshield did its best to divert the oncoming wind, but as any convertible buff knows, it can only do so much. I cruised into a tight corner and feathered the brake, feeling the grip of the wheels just barely holding against the tarmac.
Looking out on the empty straightaway before me, I smirked to myself. It’s a quiet night… guess I can let loose.
With a tap on my phone, the speakers started blaring out my driving playlist, and my foot pressed down on the gas. My brights clicked on to illuminate the road ahead, and I sped off into the night.
Thirty minutes earlier
“Dinner’s up, get it hot!” My mother’s voice echoed through the house, the call of her Southern Belle accent and powerful belt brooking no argument - dinner was ready, and we’d all better get our asses to the table. I wasn’t about to argue. My laptop clicked shut, and I rolled out of bed.
“Coming!” I called out, lacking my mother’s distinctive accent but with plenty of volume to match.
With a sigh, I pulled a scrunchie off my wrist to tie my hair back and walked out of my room, leaving the door ajar. My socks were slightly slick against the dark hardwood of the floor and stairs, but with practiced ease I hopped down the steps a few at a time and quickly rounded the corner.
Mom’s “unique” style of decorating greeted me as I passed through our living room; if you just walked through our house without taking a look outside, you’d think you had been transported straight into the stereotypical American South as seen in the movies. From the furniture to the floors to the wallpaper, nothing in the room fit with our Southern Californian surroundings.
I leaned into the kitchen through the open doorway, and saw my mother busily laying out plates and plates of food on the table. It looked like today’s meal was steak, potatoes, and an assortment of other sides, a little something for each of our tastes. Despite appearances, and how long all this took to prepare, she had a full-time job as well - some consulting thing that I’d never understand.
“Hey hun. Could you grab the silverware?” She smiled at me widely. My mother fit the Southern stereotype in more than just tastes - her long, elbow-length blonde hair and still generous curves were all the evidence I needed. She easily looked ten years younger than she actually was; if I didn’t inherit anything else from her, I just hoped I’d get that.
I grabbed a handful of utensils out of a nearby drawer and started laying them out neatly. Mom ruffled my hair when I was just about done.
Her ever-present grin returned. “When are you gonna get this cut, kiddo? Soon enough the ladies at game night will be asking about my daughter instead of my son.”
“It’s not that bad,” I grumbled, tucking a stray lock behind my ear. “I’ll cut it when I feel like it.”
“Sage, it’s practically down to your ass untied,” she laughed. I just squinted and muttered to myself about her use of language that I definitely wouldn’t get away with. Whether she heard me or not, I’d never know thanks to that constant insufferable grin on her face.
Despite my protests, I didn’t really have any room to complain. In the last week alone I’d been called “Miss” like three times, even after seeing me from the front. My hair, jet black like my father’s with my mother’s gentle wave, certainly didn’t help - but neither did my decidedly androgynous face, long lashes from my mother and large blue eyes. I was pretty short too - but it wasn’t that bad… right?
I started to sit down in my usual seat, and right on time another trio of voices chimed in.
“Tadaima!” The chorus of my dad, brother, and sister called from the front door. I could hear them sliding off their shoes, and they quickly joined us at the table. My sister came first, practically my mother’s younger clone, from hair to face to curves, and height - much to my chagrin, she was taller than me.
My brother was similar, keeping the blonde hair of those two and the blue eyes we all shared, but his easily six foot frame towered over all of us, even my dad. Speaking of, the old man himself slid into his spot last, his mop of neatly trimmed black hair an exact match to mine, and his slim frame and face a callback to his home back in Osaka. My mother leaned over and gave him a quick kiss, sliding a heaping plate of steak and potatoes in front of him.
Jurou Sakamoto and Annabeth Sakamoto née Banks. An odd pairing - a stereotypical Southern Belle and a Japanese expat, each with strong roots in their old homes. I still wasn’t sure quite how they met, just that they were still happy twenty-odd years later. Makes no sense to me, but I won’t question it - I’m alive, aren’t I?
“Hey lovelies, hope your practices were good. I was just asking your brother when he’s going to get a haircut.” My cheerleader sister and football-playing brother both smirked, and I just rolled my eyes.
“Shut up, mom…” I groaned, only to receive a swift bonk on the head by my father.
“Be respectful to your mother, Seiji.” His expression didn’t even change as he returned his hand to his meal.
“Yes, otou-san…” Turning back to my plate, I stuffed a slab of steak into my mouth to muffle out my subsequent muttering.
We all dug in without any further preamble - my mom’s cooking was as formidable as ever. Despite that, I didn’t seem to be capable of gaining the dozens of pounds that should go hand in hand, but I kept stuffing my face nonetheless.
Dad looked over at me. “I need you to make a delivery run tonight, over to your Aunt and Uncle’s. The package is in the convertible already, figured you’d want it.”
He tossed me the keys, and I grinned, mopping up the rest of my plate in short order. I quickly excused myself.
“I’ll be back. Leave some dessert for me.”
I bumped my turn signal on out of habit, even though the road was just as empty as always. The car slowed drastically as I approached the exit - there’s not much thrill in speeding down local roads, and the cops actually patrol those.
At the time I’d been doing these runs weekly, if not more, so I had no need for a GPS. The boring stop and go of suburban residential roads wasn’t really worthy of description. I spent the time straightening out my hair with one hand, trying to tame the windswept locks as best I could before arriving.
And here we are… I pulled into a driveway at the corner of 5th and Lee, and I could already see my uncle waiting on the front porch. As I put the car in park, he came up to the passenger side.
“Hey squirt. You made good time today - that a new record?” He grinned, as did I - he, at least, was well aware of my driving behavior.
I shook my head, though. “Nah, last week’s was two minutes faster. I struggled in the corners today.”
“I’m telling you kid, if you learn to drift those sections will start saving you a shit ton - not that the convertible is built for what you’re doing anyway.” I knew Uncle Ray wasn’t actually related to me, but he definitely shared my love for fast driving. Unlike him, though, I wasn’t really up to speed on the details of cars - I just needed to drive fast, not get a degree in the subject.
I shrugged, and just grinned at him. Uncle Ray grabbed his package out of the passenger seat, visibly struggling. I started to unbuckle, but he shook his head with a grin. Eventually he got the big box inside, and came back to see me off.
“One of these days I’ll get you in a real speed demon, Sage. You’ve got some talent to get those times in a car like that.” I rolled my eyes, and gave him a wave as I started to back out. He returned it, and I pulled away with a slight smile on my face.
Drift Queens - Chapter 2
By Misty Steppes
A double today! Both chapters were almost done, so I figured I might as well push them both out while I have the motivation, short as it may be. This story's plot isn't quite as planned out as the other two, though. Enjoy!
My trip back was still well over the speed limit (what did you expect?), but my clock wasn’t running this time. The main reason was that the trip back was primarily left turns, so I couldn’t take the tight turns without crossing into the other lane - the road might seem empty, but I really didn’t need a head-on collision in my dad’s convertible.
This way is a lot less fun… I sighed. Ah, well.
~o~O~o~
Elsewhere
Ray Wolfe, known as Uncle Ray by his god-children, watched the silver convertible disappear off in the distance. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a stopwatch.
“Not even his fastest time, and it still shatters my records… J’s too… Damn.”
The stopwatch disappeared back to where it came from, and he started dialing a number on his phone.
“Hey J. Yeah. Have you thought about what we were talking about the other day?”
~o~O~o~
Music: Real Gone by Sheryl Crow
The darkness was finally setting in, the last rays of sunlight disappearing over the horizon, the reflections off the ocean’s waves quietly dissipating. My headlights illuminated the long straightaway in front of me, and I smirked to myself.
I can practice upshifting, at least.
I turned up the music - can’t go wrong with Real Gone, cliché as it was coming from the Cars soundtrack. The music echoed out across the empty landscape, and as the chorus came up, my foot went to the floor. My right hand was taking care of the gear changes, while my left was mostly just concerned with keeping the wheel in its current position - a perk of the almost perfectly flat road.
“Baby you’re a screamin’ it’s a blast, blast, blast...
Look out babe you got your blinders on,
Everybody’s looking for a way to get real gone, real gone…”
Yeah, I was singing along. I might not be the best singer out there, but it’s not like there was anyone around to hear me... speak of the devil.
I took the slight bend in the road at speed, but the turn revealed a car just ahead, their rear lights just barely visible. I started to go for the brake, but right as I started to ease up on the gas they pulled over, flickering their lights to signal me.
“Weird. I’ll take it though.” I pressed the pedal down and sped past them, not even bothering to get a look at the car. Probably just a casual driver who didn’t want to worry about me being on their ass the whole time.
~o~O~o~
Elsewhere
As the silver convertible streaked past, the car that had pulled over smoothly slid into a nearby rest area - more an impromptu parking lot than anything, strategically positioned to give a scenic view of the ocean. The driver hopped out, slamming the door of the nondescript black car behind him.
“God FUCKING dammit Townes, why didn’t you tell me there was someone doing a run tonight!?” The man stalked over to a group of guys pressed up against the road’s guard rail, a few laptops and some other strange gear set up as well. The target of his ire, presumably Townes, glanced up at him.
“Because there aren’t any groups doing runs tonight, other than us. We claimed this section, and all the others okayed it.” He pulled up a calendar, and noted the time slot on it. “See? SoCal Kings, PCH Straight, 8-12. Just us.”
The driver sighed, and leaned up against the rail. “...Then who the hell was that silver convertible? I was already most of the way through my drag run, and they passed me like it was nothing. That shouldn’t be possible.”
“I mean, they probably weren’t doing standing start, but even so, you’re right - the turn right before the straightaway should kill a car like that enough to give you the edge. It’s either tuned to literal perfection, or the driver’s a master on straightaways… hell, even both shouldn’t be enough.”
“Goddammit. If a random joyrider can beat me, how can I call myself a King?”
One of the other guys looked up from his laptop, and cleared his throat. Both Townes and the driver looked at him.
“I was recording for your approach, and I caught a couple stills of the car. No plates, but their top was down so I got a side view of the driver.”
He turned the laptop screen towards them, still hooked up to a camera on a tripod. The screen was frozen on a specific frame of video - a silver convertible, slightly blurred from the speed... and a lone driver, a mane of black hair streaking behind, caught in the wind. The face wasn’t visible.
“Well I’ll be... I don’t think any team has had a female driver in years, so no one’s muscling in on our claim... a lone she-wolf, then.” Townes pulled the laptop out of the cameraman’s hands, trying to get a better zoom on the girl’s face, but it blurred to nothing before he got anywhere close.
The driver just shook his head, staring out at the empty road.
“No, Townes. Not just a she-wolf.”
“A Wolf Queen.”
~o~O~o~
I pulled back into our driveway, leaving the convertible in its normal spot. Dad was waiting for me outside, like always - he liked to give the car a look over after my runs, for whatever reason.
“Hey, Dad.” I tossed the keys to him underhand, and headed over to the door. “Delivery’s done. Better give me five stars on Yelp.”
I got a rare chuckle out of him as he caught the keys, but I didn’t hear a reply before the screen door closed behind me. As the door latched, I thought I saw the glint of headlights in the class, but I decided it was just my imagination. Dad doesn’t go out this late. My next stop was the kitchen table, where a plate full of crumbs lay mostly ransacked - lucky for me, a pair of chocolate chip cookies stared back at me.
“Jackpot!” I exclaimed, swooping up my prize before sprinting up the stairs to my room. By the time my door was closed, both cookies had disappeared into my mouth, and I had fully embraced the chipmunk look. I glanced over at my desk.
Ugh, I have to finish that History project.
I finished chewing my mouthful of cookie, before reluctantly sliding into my desk chair. As loathe as I was to actually do the work, I knew there would be hell to pay from BOTH of my parents if I skipped it.
“Welp. Let’s see if there’s a car topic available.”
Aaron was determined to change the world with his work, no matter how what it took. But one catastrophe later, and he's got much bigger things to look forward to, for better or worse.
*Thanks to Rasufelle's sample pages for guidance on creating this title page!*
Warped Space - Chapter 1
By Misty Steppes
Welcome to my first story! Be warned, this may receive a rewrite at some point, but I'm not going to do much good staring at it so I might as well let it out into the wild. Enjoy, and I'd love to hear comments or criticism down below.
I’ll never forget that night. Not because of the bitter chill of the winter solstice night, nor because of the runny nose that constantly reminded me of my persistent cold, no - all that paled in comparison with the events of that night. To be fair, what I saw is no longer the most surprising moment of my life, as you’ll soon see as I recount my adventures, but it was certainly the first of many.
“Goddammit Aaron, can’t you just leave it a few weeks? I had to reschedule my flight out to make this test. I know you haven’t got any plans, but I’d like to spend some time with my family before we get on with attempting to further humanity.”
I didn’t even bother looking up from my monitor as my coworker’s complaints echoed through our metal-paneled lab. The screen in front of me laid out thousands of individual variables related to our project, and I was carefully editing each one individually and observing the changes they created in one another.
“This is the last one James, and once again I apologize for keeping you. I could have done this myself.”
My voice was rather monotone as I spoke, far more focused on my work than his protests.
“As if I’d let you blow everything up on your own. You remember the last time you forgot a decimal point before a test? That’s why we had professionals ground everything properly. I’m not letting you screw up again if I can help it.”
“I’m well aware, James...”
I stood up with a sigh, sparing one last glance towards the monitor as I saved my changes and clicked it off.
“The changes are saved, turn off your workstation so we can run the test without risk of interference.”
James rolled his eyes as I spoke, but shut down his own workstation nonetheless.
“I’m honestly not sure what you’re expecting here. Quantum anomalies have been proven to exist, but they’re not known to be controllable in any meaningful way. Countless panels of scientists agree that they’re just harmless blips in the fabric of space-time.”
“Well one good, repeatable experiment can prove countless panels wrong, James. That’s what science is all about, and it’s what my thesis will be about regardless of our success. The professor eats this shit up, and you know it. Now get to the booth, I’ll clear the chamber and prepare the sub-chambers.”
“Yes, oh captain my captain.” With a snarky half-salute, James leaned over and opened the door to the main testing area, the dimly lit operating booth serving as the barrier between our work space and the actual test chamber. I had no expectations for this experiment, much like our last 273, but it wouldn’t do to leave a new theory untested for the several weeks of winter break that would follow - as James had said, he was not convinced as to my ability to conduct experiments on my own.
To be fair, he had a point, though it wouldn’t much matter as we soon found out.
With a hard pull of the metal door set in the wall just past the one James had opened, I entered the chamber, met immediately by the sight of my work over the last few months: two identical domes, inside which stood identical pedestals. The insides of the domes were lined with a metal apparatus of my own design, the function of which would take thousands of words to explain in even the simplest (accurate) terms.
Put simply, though not entirely accurately, I was trying to teleport significant amounts of matter.
The 20th and early 21st centuries would argue that this was impossible, as per Einstein’s famous work; but drastic advances in our understanding of quantum mechanics revealed “anomalies” of a sort in the fabric of the space-time continuum, ones that we have slowly attempted to quantify and document. Or, in my case, control.
“Alright, set the test object, I cleared the chambers last night. Get ready for a whole lot of nothing.”
James’ voice came through the speaker system set up in the chamber - he had apparently already closed the door while I was surveying our work. I walked over to the far side of the room, passing between the two domes, where on a small table
sat hundreds of metal ball bearings, split into two piles: used and unused in our experiments. It seems pretty pointless since our experiments had done exactly nothing observable, but if they were doing something we couldn’t see, anything at all, any future iterations of the experiment would be affected.
Plucking a single ball bearing from the unused stack using a nearby pair of tongs, I carefully moved it over to one of the domes, the one which I knew to be our “send” dome, as I had so aptly named it (the other was the “receive” dome, of course). A small hatch on the side of the dome opened with a light press, and I reached in with the tongs and the ball bearing. The ball bearing rolled around slightly as I released it, but the concave shape of the pedestal kept it from falling. I quickly shut the door and returned the tongs to their original location, before looking over towards James.
“The test subject is set.”
I moved between the domes to observe the ball, crouching down slightly to get a straight-on view. The nature of quantum anomalies meant that the object wouldn’t be traveling through physical space even if it did somehow work, so I was in no danger of being run through with a metal ball.
“Alright. Now recording.
“Test #274, Date and Time December 21 2035, 11:27 PM. Modification List compared to Test #273: Extensive, thanks to a calculation error that would have skewed any data collected from Test #273.
“Variable entries appear correct. Structural integrity normal. Powering up system in Three.
“Two.
“One.”
Each dome began to hum as the metal contraptions vibrated at a high frequency, just as they had done in experiments before.
“Effects on structure consistent with previous experiments… no sign of change in the test subject.”
I squinted at the metal ball… nope. Nothing.
“Alright James, cut the power. We’re done for the night. Enjoy your flight home.”
His face lit up in the booth, and he pressed the intercom button once again.
“Finally~ Test results inconclusive. Cutting power to system in Three.
“Two.
“HOLY SHIT! AARON!”
I had looked up to speak to him, but my head now snapped back to the dome at his reaction.
That was the moment.
The marble was no longer visible - instead, the inside of the dome was shrouded in a blue mist of sorts, entirely obscured. I looked behind me at the “receive” dome, and saw the exact same thing.
“Absolutely stunning…” I muttered.
“Should I still cut power? We can’t see anything with this mist.”
“Go ahead. Should be replicable regardless.”
I waved to him to go ahead, and I assume he pushed the button to turn off the structures, but the words that came next told me I was in serious danger.
“I… can’t cut the power. It isn’t working. I’m going to run for the dead switch in the basement, you need to get out of there though. Who knows what’ll happen, this is unknown ground.”
I was inclined to agree, so I promptly abandoned my place between the domes and bolted towards the main door.
But perhaps that was the real moment I remember even more keenly, because clearly my escape was not meant to be.
Before I could move an inch, the domes shattered with the high-pitched crack of breaking glass, the metal structures exploding outwards in the same impact. The two spheres of mist shot towards one another - and directly towards me, since I was right between them.
I can’t really describe the feeling of the impact. It was simultaneously freezing cold and burning hot, yet also a tingly sensation like when you hit your funny bone or your leg falls asleep.
All of that at once.
And then nothing.
Warped Space - Chapter 2
By Misty Steppes
Don't go expecting these every night, folks, I'm just trying to decide where exactly I'm going with this story, and I do that by writing until I'm happy with a chapter and where it takes the story. That being said, enjoy!
“Where the hell am I…”
I slid my arms underneath my torso, pushing myself up off of the odd ground to get a good look of the area around me.
My jaw dropped.
The view in front of me was stunning. Around fifty feet ahead of me stood a plasma curtain the likes of which had only existed in science fiction - but it was now the only thing that stood between me and the darkness of space.
A hand on my shoulder made me jump, and I turned to see who it was.
“Who are you?”
I half-shouted as I turned, coming face to face with a human-looking man. He was tall and broad, pale but with heavy muscle that belied the sun-deprived assumption that I might otherwise be led to by his skin. His entire body was covered in a black armor of sorts, plates of yet another material that remained unfamiliar to me.
He responded to me, but it was incomprehensible - more of that language that I had heard as I came to. I blinked in confusion, and we both frowned. He tapped a button near his collar and spoke in a monotone, evidently using some kind of radio. Releasing the button when he finished speaking, the man extended his hand to me, a somewhat universal gesture it seemed even as incomprehensible as our languages were to one another. I grabbed his hand and he pulled me to my feet, nodding solemnly.
I was tempted to make another attempt at deciphering their language, but before I could say or do anything another person ran up behind the man. A short woman in a similar black armor skidded to a halt next to him, a small box in hand. After a brief word (or words, I wouldn’t know) between the two, the woman opened the box, revealing what looked to be an earpiece of some kind - like the ones used by FBI agents or rich businessmen. She held it out to me, and I gingerly plucked it from the box, orienting it properly before sticking it into my left ear. As I let go, the woman handed me a tablet-like slab, the screen already lit with images. When I grabbed hold of it, the woman reached over and pushed on button on the earpiece. It immediately began speaking the language that they had been, but she mimed speaking and pointed to the tablet.
Making the assumption that I was supposed to speak the English word for what was on the screen, I started naming the many images I saw, proceeding left to right and top to bottom.
“Bed.
“Star.
“Table…”
“Language formula comprehended. Calibration complete. Welcome, customer.
“New Language Registered. Please provide a name for the record.”
“English.”
“Thank you. Now translating nearby surrounding conversation.”
“...That didn’t take too long. Surprising to find an untranslated derivative language in this day and age, but I’m not complaining.”
A slightly synthetic-sounding voice spoke in my ear, apparently repeating the words of the woman as she spoke - there was hardly any delay, astoundingly, though it did pause at some points. I had only spoken a few words, so the fact that it was already able to speak almost perfect English was simply unbelievable.
“Alright, you should be able to understand us now. My name is Amina Del’Roux, First Lieutenant in the Federation Exploratory Corps, and this is Joel Kar’Seth, Second Lieutenant. Would you mind telling us where, you’re from?”
The woman smiled as she spoke, gesturing to the man beside her as she introduced him.
“I- I’m from Earth, Sol System, not that that would mean anything to you most likely. My planet has not achieved space travel, something that I would find hard to believe right now if not for it staring me in the face.”
The earpiece was clearly translating my voice into whatever language they had been speaking, but it seemed to work well enough. I gestured over my shoulder as I spoke towards the plasma window into the void. As I finished speaking, I quietly took a deep breath, still quite surprised that I was taking this so well.
“A pre-spacer planet with warp technology? Impossible,” The voice-over of the man, who had been introduced as Joel, scoffed. “No pre-spacer could just show up in our interdictor bay without being torn to pieces by their own gate. Where are you really from?”
“I swear, I’m not lying to you. I’m a college student, I was doing research into warp anomalies for my thesis, and got caught up in an experiment gone wrong. I’m frankly surprised I’m still alive, much less here.”
Joel frowned, but said nothing for a moment. Sensing his pause, Amina spoke up instead, reaching for the pad in my hand, which I readily handed to her.
“Well, I have no reason to believe you’re lying, though pre-spacers this close to the Known Systems is almost unheard of, not to mention you surviving that warp. Would you possibly be able to point out your location on a galactic map? I assume your planet had that much technology, if you were experimenting with warp gates.”
After a moment of tapping away at the tablet, Amina handed it back to me, at which point I closed my eyes and attempted to remember our relative location in the Milky Way. But when I opened my eyes again and looked down at the tablet, I immediately felt confused.
“This… This isn’t what our galaxy looks like.”
Nothing matched up. Not the shape, not the size, nothing. Even if I wanted to slot the Sol system in somehow, I wouldn’t be able to make it fit in a way that made sense.
“I… It’s not here.”
I placed my head in my hands, trying to comprehend what was happening.
“What do I do…” I whispered to myself.
I felt Amina’s hand upon my shoulder.
At least I wasn’t all alone.
Still reeling from the shock of the day’s events, I sat down without a sound onto the bed I had been led to.
“I’ll send over a spare datapad for you with a language program on it, among other things. It’s best if you learn Galactic Common as quickly as possible - the translator’s very convenient, but it can be kind of unsettling to hear everyone as the same voice, not to mention the confusion it can cause when translating colloquialisms and such.”
Amina spoke softly from the doorway, disappearing when she was done speaking. The metal door slid shut upon her departure, the hiss of the pneumatic system driving it only barely audible.
I hadn’t seen most of my current location, but from what I could tell I was aboard a starship of some kind - presumably owned by the “Federation Exploratory Corps”. It was pretty stereotypically futuristic-looking as starships go - not that I had much experience with real starships.
“Mister Aaron, I’ve retrieved your datapad for you.”
The sound of Galactic Common came from behind the door, words that were swiftly translated by my earpiece, the door sliding open as I looked up. A humanoid robot strode into the room, its metal plating almost identical to the armor that Amina and Joel had been wearing. Emblazoned on the metal of its lapel was a symbol that I presumed to belong to the Exploratory Corps - that or the Federation, though the former was my best guess. It was a white circle with two horizontal bars through it, almost like a double-ringed planet, if such a thing were possible.
“We’ll have to take you to a government office once we get back to a Federation system, get you registered and all that, but you should be able to apply for citizenship fairly easy. Pre-spacers can’t exactly be enemy plants, obviously, so your background check should turn up clean - nonexistent, actually, but that is besides the point.”
The android handed me a datapad as he spoke, not pausing even as I pressed what appeared to be the power button. The screen of the pad flashed on with a pleasant ‘ding’, the same logo as the one on the android briefly appearing on screen before it faded out, replaced with a home screen of sorts.
The words on the pad were exclusively in Galactic Common, so I couldn’t understand any of it, but I presumed the icon of a book with Galactic Common symbols in it would take me to the learning resource Amina had mentioned.
“The datapad is technically only authorized for Corps member use, but I don’t think anyone will begrudge you the necessity that is learning Galactic Common in this era. Well, I’d best let you get to work - if you’d like to join the crew for dinner, most eat at around the 22nd hour Galactic Standard Time. Days are split into 30 hours, just so you know - your pre-spacer world likely kept time differently. Hours are 50 minutes, minutes are 50 seconds, and you can get an idea of the length of a second using that clock over in the corner if you like. I’ll leave you to it. Old PAD-1 will be around if you need me.”
With a casual salute thrown my way, PAD-1 stalked out of the room, its movements mechanical but quite smooth and human-like. I glanced over to the clock that it mentioned - after waiting a few moments to compare my memory of a second and the second recorded on the digital clock, I found that their second was extremely similar to Earth’s - odd, but quite convenient. A different second would have made keeping time a nightmare for years to come.
Should I live that long. I had not a clue what was to come.
I turned back to the datapad that sat on my lap, finally opening the language resource that I had received the tablet for in the first place. In a matter of moments, I was beginning to learn the language of the galaxy I had found myself in.
Warped Space - Chapter 3
By Misty Steppes
My, it has been a while hasn’t it. Apologies for the absence, the Real World has indeed been cruel over the past… almost two years, I think it’s been? Dear. Well, whilst I get my bearings, enjoy a new chapter of Warped Space!
Perhaps I’m being a touch overdramatic - after all, I was just laying in my bed. Even in an unknown galaxy, universe even, the concept of something soft to spend the night on was the same. After spending several hours immersed in learning the strange language that had been thrust upon me, “Galactic Common” as it were, I had turned in for a “night” of fitful sleep - I wasn’t sure that night really meant anything on a starship. As I rolled side to side, adjusting the pillow-like object periodically to find a comfortable position, I found rest elusive. Not that the bed wasn’t comfortable, I hadn’t slept on anything that comfortable in my life, but you could hardly blame me for being restless. In a split second my life had turned upside down, inside out, and backwards, and I’d been unceremoniously dumped into what was, for all I knew, another dimension entirely.
I guess I got that vacation after all, I thought wryly to myself, staring up at the ceiling. I hope James is alright.
My intrepid assistant had originally been set to fly back across the country for the holidays, to spend a couple weeks with his folks. With any luck he should have made it out just fine, given he had only been moments away from the manual shutoff, but who knew? I certainly didn’t. I sighed thoughtfully. At least I didn’t have anyone back on Earth who would feel my absence too hard. Sure, James was a decent guy and might be affected for a time, but we weren’t exactly close. No friends awaited me back at the university, and any family I had was long since estranged - my parents and siblings had never quite understood me, or my endless pursuit of knowledge, and the extended family was no different. I suppose they’re all the well-adjusted ones, though, to be fair.
“Lights on, please.” I spoke out into the void, hoping that the lights worked how I presumed - I’d look a right fool if not. On cue, the room slowly illuminated, warm light emanating from panels above me. I reached over and grabbed the datapad off of the desk, glancing at the clock.
21:36:31
The clock wasn't in the Arabic numerals that were standard on Earth of course, though conveniently they seemed to also count in Base 10, so the conversion wasn’t too much of a hassle. I clearly hadn’t been trying to sleep for too long, given it had been around “noon” when I’d arrived, and I’d spent a good six or seven hours on the language program.
Speaking of, what an incredible piece of software! It had interfaced with the translator earpiece and quickly taught me the basics of the language. It was very strange… in many ways, the language was similar to English and other Germanic languages, as what little remained of my high school German and French told me. The grammar was extremely similar to German patterns, with very particular word order and compound words, but even that didn’t account for just how efficient this teaching seemed to be! After what equated to little more than an afternoon of studying, I had already reached a somewhat conversational level in Galactic Common, though I wouldn’t dare call myself fluent. I suspected that they had some sort of strange memorization method embedded within the program, but with all the crazy nonsense surrounding me, that would hardly be out of place.
I looked at the datapad in my hands and considered opening it again, but shook my head. For whatever reason, the only application I could access was the language program - understandable, I suppose, but my curiosity about my current situation was far from satisfied. The tablet returned to its former place on the desk, and I flopped back onto the bed with yet another sigh.
“Aaron, you good? My shift just ended, I’m heading to the mess hall if you’d like to join me.” A knock came at the door along with the familiar voice, and the surface of the otherwise unassuming metal door was replaced with a clear view of what lay beyond it - in this case, the still uniformed First Lieutenant Amina Del’Roux, tapping gently on the door’s surface with a slightly awkward smile. Perhaps it was thanks to my sudden change in surroundings, but I hadn’t yet taken a look at my new hosts, beyond the fact that they seemed largely human. Amina in particular seemed broadly Caucasian in appearance, with jet black hair neatly tied up, a strong contrast to her extremely pale skin, a trait that the other crew member I had met shared. The smooth black plates of unknown material seemed quite thick, so I had no way of knowing what she looked like beneath her uniform, but nevertheless Amina seemed like quite an attractive young woman at first glance.
“Aaron?”
Breaking from my momentary stupor, I blushed slightly before quickly clearing my head. I had more important things to worry about than my lovely host’s appearance.
“Come in!” The door hissed open automatically at his words, and the smiling Amina poked her head inside. “Sorry to bother you,” she said pleasantly, “I can’t imagine what’s been running through your head.”
I chuckled. “You have no idea.” As she spoke, I noticed that the translation program was much quieter. It would only speak over words that I didn’t recognize, and those were already few and far between. I guessed that I would struggle if I came upon any slang, but I couldn’t very well complain about learning a language in six hours. Amina had clearly noticed my somewhat decent Galactic Common as well - a bright smile crossed her lips.
“Impressive! I don’t think I’ve heard of anyone picking up Common that quickly, then again most new learners are children nowadays. I would keep the translator for now - I’m sure you haven’t got everything just yet.” She glanced at the tablet on the desk, looked back at me, and nodded her head in the direction of the hallway. “Seems like you’re taking a break anyway. You coming?”
Weighing the awkwardness of meeting new people on a spaceship in a different galaxy against sitting in my room alone… I guessed the former would at least be a bit more interesting. I stood, leaving the datapad behind, and followed Amina out into the hall. As the door closed behind us, she glanced over at me.
“All this,” she gestured at the futuristic white corridor, “might be a little jarring at first, but you’ll get used to it quickly I’m sure.”
I nodded, still far more unsure of myself than she seemed to be. “I suppose - I hope the crew doesn’t mind my… sudden… intrusion.”
Amina laughed in response, a strange melodic tone that was endearing in its own way.
“You’ll be fine. I, for one, am happy to have you, and I’m sure the rest of the staff will take to you just fine.” Her reassuring smile put me slightly more at ease, and we continued on our way to what I assumed was the cafeteria.
The chatter of the cafeteria was slightly overwhelming as the large door slid open, the long white corridor suddenly ending with this large room. As far as I could tell, this ship was quite large - not nearly as cramped as I would expect, and this large mess hall was no different. Several tables and chairs were arranged neatly, with a dozen or so uniformed crew members jovially conversing and scarfing down hot meals, and rolling robotic attendants retrieving and replacing empty plates with unfamiliar dishes. For a few moments I just took in the strange sights and sounds in silence, Amina waiting patiently beside me, but before long someone noticed me and an awkward pause overtook the room. I took a half step back. Should I interrupt? Should I just leave? Before I had a chance to doubt myself too much, a figure I couldn’t quite make out called from inside the room.
“LT, why don’t you introduce us to your magic warper boyfriend?”
The tension broke in an instant, as the room filled with laughter, Amina’s familiar giggle returning. I glanced over at her - was she blushing? I’m far more awkward right now than she is, that’s for sure. My thoughts were interrupted once again as Amina grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me into the room.
“Everyone, meet Aaron…” She glanced at me.
“Brewer,” I supplied quietly.
“Aaron Brewer,” Amina continued, “our newest discovery and resident warper - as far as I know, the ONLY warper, full stop.”
The chatter from before returned with a vengeance, but everyone had one clear topic - me. Another voice popped up, but I didn’t recognize anyone here. Joel from before was nowhere to be seen.
“So what’s your secret, Brewer? You a Warp Beast in disguise or something?” Another bout of laughter rippled through the small crowd, but I didn’t quite know how to respond. Amina stepped in on my behalf, giving the man who asked a withering glare.
“No, he’s not a warp beast, Ar’Dokh. Seems like he’s just an INCREDIBLY lucky scientist from a pre-spacer world.” As she spoke she led me to an open set of chairs, where we took a seat. The crew members sitting opposite us offered me welcoming smiles, and one slid another datapad my way, this one with pictures of what I could only assume was food on it.
“Grab whatever you like, we have rations to spare,” he whispered conspiratorially. “I recommend the Kanthian Steak Melt, always popular, but who knows what’ll be to your taste.”
I could hear other tables still sending questions my way as I scrolled through the meal options, but I gratefully let Amina ward them off as I finally just decided to go with the crewman’s recommendation.
Not ten seconds later, one of those rolling robots slid a plate with a beautiful-looking steak right in front of me, as well as a few sides and some things that looked similar enough to Earth silverware. It was only as I began to take in the pleasant, rich smell of the cooked slab of meat that I realized just how hungry I was! Extradimensional travel took a lot out of you, I guess. Amina and her crewmates looked on with amusement as I dug in eagerly.
One of the other crewmen nudged Amina. “He seen the Captain or the Commander yet, LT? We don’t need to wind up in the brig for a cycle because you ‘forgot’.”
“Not yet Pilot, but the Captain comes off duty soon. It’s probably best if he meets the Commander last anyway…” The two of them smirked, and I wasn’t sure if I should be worried. When I heard the next sound deafen the room, though, I decided that I definitely should be.
“ATTENTION!”
Warped Space - Chapter 4
By Misty Steppes
Things are slowly picking up, and yet only just beginning... enjoy!
“So I hear we have a stowaway, Lieutenant. Give me one reason I shouldn’t throw him in the brig right this instant, and you with him for aiding him.” I just looked at him, eyes wide. Noooooot a good start. Amina sighed and rose to her feet, more than a foot shorter than the intimidating man, but not a smidge of fear or concern showed on her face.
“Commander, he’s not a stowaway. He’s a victim of a warp accident on a pre-spacer planet, and he was lucky enough to get caught in our inderdictor still in one piece.”
“I’d call him a spy, but I don’t think we even have any enemies who can warp personnel… Hell, I didn’t think anyone could enter Warp Space without a Drive and a Pathfinder.” The Commander, as Amina had called him, seemed confused. He glanced over at a nearby table, where a bunch of intellectual-looking types were poring over several datapads and muttering to one another quietly. One of them caught his eye, and shrugged slightly - the universal “no clue”. Amina took the opportunity to go in for the kill.
“Me neither, Commander, but here he is. FEC code dictates we provide hospitality for survivors of interstellar travel accidents, as well as language training for ascended pre-spacers. I believe both apply here - reference FEC Charter lines 118 and 143, Commander.”
“Ah. I see you’ve done your research, Lieutenant, so I don’t space the poor sod. Hmm, has our ship’s Princess developed a crush on the mysterious warpster?” The cafeteria broke out into laughter once again - it seemed the ship’s crew shared a similar sense of humor. The cool-headed Lieutenant simply raised an eyebrow at her superior officer.
“No sir, that would be in strict violation of the FEC fraternization policy.”
The Commander smirked again, raising an eyebrow of his own. “He’s not a member of the FEC, and even if he was, that policy was repealed at the last Council session…”
Amina’s neutral expression started to crack slightly, the pale white of her cheeks coloring oh so gently, but the Commander decided to be merciful and end their exchange.
“Anyway, since our lovely Lieutenant here has pointed out that we can’t exactly leave you to die, allow me to welcome you to your new home, at least until we make landfall in Known Space. In other words, welcome aboard the FEC Dawnrider.” His stoic face shifted slightly, sending a brief smile my way, and he reached out a hand to shake mine - I took the offered hand, of course, I’m not crazy. The surrounding crew offered some welcomes of their own, but the Commander quickly waved his hand to silence them.
“I don’t know if my slacking crew here already introduced me, but either way - I’m Commander Aldrich Lee’Zanh of the FEC Dawnrider, and more importantly the Chief Officer of the Epsilon Quadrant Charting Project. That’s what we’re doing out here in the middle of nowhere - plotting this unsettled region of space, dealing with any unknowns that come our way…” He gave me a meaningful look, “And eventually returning a full report of the zone to the Federation government back in Known Space.”
He paused. It looked like he was going over something in his head. After a moment, “Alright, I think that’s all the mandatory script stuff. Now then.” Commander Lee’Zanh gave me a wide, almost scary grin. “I may have to give you a place to stay, but no one freeloads on my ship. Lieutenant Del’Roux, newcomer, finish your meals. I expect both of you in my office in five minutes. As you were!”
The Commander spun on his heels and strode back the way he came, leaving the cafeteria in silence right until the doors closed. As the pneumatic hiss faded, the now familiar chatter returned. Amina and I just looked at each other, confused, before quickly going back to our meals.
The soft hiss of metallic doors and unnaturally white hallways were now at least somewhat familiar to me. Amina had led me over to a spacious elevator-like room, almost identical to the rest of the hallway, which took us up to another deck of the ship. The door slid open to reveal a wide open room, and not for the first time in the past day my jaw dropped straight through the floor. My feeling of awe looking out the plasma window of the Interdiction Chamber was dwarfed by the spread of windows that lay before me - the half dome at the far side of this room peered out into the void, twinkling stars the only intermittent variance in an otherwise infinite darkness.
I stumbled forward after receiving a sudden push from behind.
“Don’t just stand there,” Amina said with a gentle smile in my direction, “the Commander doesn’t take kindly to delays.”
Instead of proceeding on to the bridge proper, she shepherded me off to the right side of the floor, where a large jet black door denoted what I could only assume to be the Commander’s office. Amina tapped a clear card of some sort to a pad off to the side. The pad’s surface blinked a pale green, and the door itself hissed open, revealing the cramped office quarters that lay beyond.
“Come in, Lieutenant, Mister Not-A-Stowaway.” I suspected that was as much of an invitation as I was going to get.
A desk sat immediately opposite the entrance, but this one was empty - Maybe the captain’s desk? - another door to my left sat open, and I quickly ducked my head in. As I suspected, a similar desk greeted me again, but this time a familiar intimidating figure sat at its rear. The Commander’s clean-shaven visage was pretty similar to that of a stereotypical military man on Earth, but the armor made him a hundred times more intimidating than anyone back home could ever hope to be. He locked eyes with me, his black irises seeming to bore into my soul, and gestured casually to one of the two chairs opposite him. I hurriedly slid into the seat, and Amina followed suit, joining me to my left.
The commander looked at the two of us, leaning back in his chair.
“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do with you, Mister Not-A-Stowaway. Knowing your name would be a good start.”
“A-Aaron, sir,” I forced out, still intimidated by his piercing gaze. “Aaron Brewer.”
“Well, Mister Brewer, since I can’t just put you out the airlock, I might as well put you to some use.” He produced a datapad from under the desk, and slid it towards me. A file of some kind was already visible on the screen.
“Aldrich, you can’t conscript a fucking refugee!” My translator helpfully supplied the colorful expletives Amina was using, helpfully condensing them to a single English substitute. I hadn’t realized she had been looking over my shoulder, but indeed - in bold glyphs, the top of the datapad read “Exploratory Corps Articles of Conscription”, with several paragraphs of much smaller legalese following.
The Commander’s withering glare shifted to my guide. “I don’t recall giving you permission to use my name in the presence of Mister Brewer here, Lieutenant. And, as a matter of fact, I can - I can also throw him in the brig if he says no.”
I started scrolling through the document as Amina and the Commander began a heated exchange. Binding contract established for five years or until discharge... Standard introductory rank of Ensign... Variable duties, subject to superior officer’s discretion…
“...Well until we get back into Known Space I’m your superior officer, Lieutenant, so I’ll goddamn well not-” The Commander’s rant paused as he noticed me slide the datapad back to him, my crude signature in the Common alphabet scrawled along the bottom.
He grinned. “Well that settles that.” I glanced over at Amina, and it looked like she’d swallowed a lemon whole, but she stifled whatever she was about to say. Instead, I felt a death grip on my leg under the desk, hard enough to make me grit my teeth - She’s gonna leave a hand-shaped bruise.
“Anyway,” the Commander busily swiped through various screens on the datapad, too fast for me to actually see what was going on, “Welcome once again to the Dawnrider, and welcome to the Federation Exploratory Corps, Ensign Brewer. We’re in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere at the moment, which gives you plenty of time to get trained up, and actually be somewhat useful.”
The tablet slid back over to me again, this time with what looked like a schedule on it.
“As soon as we’re done here, you’re heading down to Requisition to get fitted with everything you’ll need. After that, you’re to follow this schedule for as long as we’re in empty space, unless otherwise specified by myself or the Captain.”
From what I could translate on the schedule, it looked like each time block had a different subject marked down - Small Arms, Electronics, Medical Basics... Starfighter Training? Before I had a chance to comment, though, he continued.
“And, of course, it only makes sense that our stowaway-harborer here serves her punishment in kind. Lieutenant, you’re on escort duty until further notice, playing guide for our newest Ensign here.”
Amina shot to her feet, temporarily towering over the seated Commander, a smirk now on his face as he looked up at her.
“Excuse me!?”