We Need a Deathworlder!

“Admiral. Thuna believes she hears an odd clicking sound with the rear reactor coupler.” Morda informs as he steps into the bridge of the Kwip-chap.

“It’s Captain, my dear boy! The only ship at my command is this one! Haha!” Chucknuq responds as he begins to run a diagnostic.

“Apologies Captain, force of habit.” Morda says as he brushes a lower arm to straighten his royal guardsmen uniform.

Chucknuq keeps an eye on the diagnostic screen, seeing an indicating issue blinking a soft yellow.

“Ah! Inform Thuna of her good catch! The coupler is starting to come loose! However, there should not be a dire problem before we make it to our next port. Still, quite exciting! Bwhaha!” the Captain updates.

“Yes sir. Can’t help but agree though, been rather uneventful as of late. Granted that makes my job all the easier, but a little thrill is most welcome.” the male Cali jests in a sigh.

“Shame you weren’t assigned to a more engaging post! I can only imagine the unrest in a young soldier like yourself!”

“Indeed… No disrespect to our charge. But my expectations for being transferred to the royal guard had more… gravatas. And yet all we’ve done thus far is fly from university to university for “studies”... having to stand by while the lecturers go on and on is akin to torture…” Morda confides.

“Hahaha! No doubt! But your position as a royal guard is still of the highest honor! Very few from the other military branches could even be selected! Not since that proposal passed at least.” Chucknuq points out.

“Yeah it’s about time too. Our training is far more vigorous than the royal academy’s. And all those extra specialized training courses seem rather pointless.” the guardsman vents.

“How so? From my understanding their studies have a firm focus on our culture and traditions.” the Captain asks.

“With all due respect to those who dedicate themselves to those fields, they are hardly important when it comes to actually protecting the royal family. If we were to ever go to war, we need proper true warriors protecting the vast royal members. And we also bolstered the numbers, something that’s very long overdue.”

“Hmm…” the Captain mumbles, “Don’t sound so eager for war, son.” He cautions.

“Just wish for our people to be prepared. There are a lot of powerful forces out there, and if any turn their sights on us we must be ready.” Morda assures.

“Is that what they teach you in the academy these days? Bah… hopefully you still managed to get up to no good! Hahah!” Chucknuq says to lift the mood.

“Well of course we did! I’ll tell you at dinner about some of the things we did that would make Klat’s eyes flash.” the Cali promises in a chucking chirp as he turns back around down the walkway.

“Brilliant! Ha!” the Captain replies.

At least the youth still have that spirit, if not slightly misplaced. Being prepared is one thing, but the balance of power of the Cali people has never been more in question. The military wishes for more involvement in more governmental affairs. Wanting to protect the family is all well and good, but Chucknuq can’t help feeling that adding to a specially trained force meant for ceremony and personal protection with raw soldiers? Hopefully the selection process is well crafted for picking out the finest. At least the four on board were personally selected by the king himself, and fully approved by the Queen.

A private call comes in.

“Captain Chucknuq?” the Princess’s voice comes in.

“How can I be of service Chakalata’motaas?” he responds promptly.

“Oh, sorry if I’m pestering you. I was just wondering if my mother has sent any correspondence? I know she must be very busy as of late, but she rarely misses sending at least a message. It’s five standard days late…” the princess inquires, sounding embarrassed to even ask.

“Not pestering at all your majesty! I’m afraid not, but we both know your mother has had a lot on her plate with the council. I am certain as soon as she prys herself away from their droning she will get into contact with you!” he reassures.

“You’re right…. Yes…” she responds, even more embarrassed.

“How was your last lecture, your majesty?” the Captain asks before the princess can cut the call.

“Oh! Lovely! I met my first Terran! Well.. by ‘met’ I mean he was a guest speaker. He told us all about how Terrans are born more helpless than most other species. I found that very hard to believe since they must have had some great forms of predators to contend with… but he showed vids and indeed… completely helpless… so strange for one of the universe’s most dangerous Deathworlders. It’s almost… poetic…” the princess informs.

“Aha! Fascinating indeed! Did you manage to converse with him?” the Captain further inquiries, knowing he was no replacement for the queen, but if the princess needs to talk he’s more than willing to substitute.

“Yes, however very briefly… I was very nervous… but he was nice! Very nice! He showed me pictures of his child and mate. Honestly, I believe other species give them an unfair reputation. Maybe if there was more encouragement for them to live in Central Galactic, or even grant them their own station there may be a shift of public opinion.” Chak speculates.

“Hm… perhaps some day! I suppose it’s dependent on if the Terran Union ever becomes willing to open themselves more.” Chucknuq proposes.

“That’s unfortunately an issue. They have, several times even. Throughout their history among the stars they have attempted to do just that. But every time it ended in a war. Which… certainly isn’t progressive to that future.” the princess explains.

“Well it’s said by their own that war and violence is a key aspect of the Terran condition.” Chucknuq points out.

“Oh, true. But it’s not like the galaxy proved willingly receptive. Terrans tried to embrace the stars, but the stars pushed back. Granted they are not the only species given this treatment, yet Terrans are far more feared. The Watath can kill with a single bite, yet they have more supporters in Central Galactic. I struggle to rationalize the standards.” Chak chirps in a counter.

“Perhaps your studies have-” Chucknuq starts to reply before an urgent message comes to his ship’s panel. From the highest epsilons of military brass no less.

Now genuinely terrified that something horrible had befallen the Cali homeworld he opens the message, seeing only blunt informing text and not a lot of it.

‘Queen Friggata’motaas is deceased. High Command declares King Lovia’motaas as supreme monarch of the Cali Territories. All of Queen-’s children are deemed priority threats against King-’s life. Complete Termination of the threats is authorized and directed. Failure to comply will result in immediate branding of Traitor and Termination. In addition, immediate relatives will be tried as co-conspirators. There will be no compromises. There will be no exceptions. Sending follow-up verification directive codes.’

Most others would have hesitated in shock, if only for a brief moment. Such an order from nowhere should cast some doubt. It’s only natural.

But not Captain Chucknuq. He didn’t rise through the ranks and survive thousands of otherwise catastrophic events because he hesitated. He was an old man of action.

He immediately overrides the emergency commands to seal every door within the ship.

“Eeep!” the princess cries out in surprise, still connected through a call, “Captain, my lavatory door just slammed itself closed! Is there a hull breach!?” she asks.

“Stay put your majesty.” he orders sternly as if she had any other choice. He waits until the verification codes come in. They are genuine in every regard.

His call is cut off from an emergency line takes its place.

“Good call Captain. Is the… threat secure?” Morda inquires, voice dead of emotion.

Chucknuq’s scales catch up to his thoughts, turning a pale off-white.

“Aye.” he reports.

“Are you able to vent her quarters?” Morda questions.

“Negative.” the Captain responds, the weight of his duty never feeling heavier.

“I see. Then unseal the doors and allow us all to regroup and terminate the threat.” the guardsman borderline orders, “...but first, rollcall. Everyone understands the orders?”

“Silia reporting in with Zazu. Orders understood.”

“Chilk reporting in with Thuna and Cheric. Orders understood.”

Chucknuq’s grasper lifts to his console, shaking horribly.

“Captain.” Thuna’s voice speaks up through the connected call, her tone steady and accepting of fate, “We both understand our duties and the ramifications of what is to happen after carrying it out. I swore an oath, and intend to uphold it till my last breath. May the mother moon guide you… and her…” she states before the distant echoes of weapon’s fire vibrates its way all the way to the captain.

“Rest with your great mother…” he somberly yet proudly responds as he presses into another emergency procedure indicator.

“Thuna’s a traitor! Chilk’s hit!” Cheric’s voice screams out.

“Captain! Unlock the doors!” Morda orders, angry panic lacing his tone.

“What’s that hissing!?” Silia shouts.

The Captain removes his hat out of respect as the screams and shouts erupt throughout the comms. They carry anger, betrayal and terror as the reality sets in. Chucknuq listens to them all, as was his duty as their superior officer. Not on any official level of course, but to his own.

“I can’t breathe… I can’t…”

“Captain please!”

“To Klat with you, you chitin-less coward! May… may… your… …your...”

“My family Captain… my family…”

“I’m sorry…please…”

“My sister will die… because… of you…”

“It’s been… an honor…”

After a long silence of voices, Chucknuq nods to himself and reconnects to the princess, who had been attempting to get back into contact.

“Captain! Are you alright!? Are we under attack?”

“Your majesty. I apologize… I’m afraid I must inform you of terrible news… more terrible than most could ever hear.”

-

Chucknuq jostles from his slumber as he orientates himself upright in the piloting seat.

“You should go to your quarters and rest.” Vin quips as he holds up a mug of tea up to the Captain.

“Aye… Not as young as I used to be, heheh.” the old Tromple agrees, accepting the mug, “Ahh… much appreciative for the tea!”

“Certainly. Mind if I ask for your thoughts on our new resident Deathworlders?” Vin asks.

“That Meeki… reminds me of myself as a young cadet! Brimming with the desire for adventure! Hahah!” the Captain replies before sipping at his tea.

“And Nodrin?” Vin presses.

“Hm… undoubtedly loyal and has a sharp wit about them. Though they seem a bit… well…perhaps I may need to learn more of the Gratt culture… but they seem to hold their mate in a much higher light than themself. Near-obsessive by my people's standards in any case. Though like I said, it could simply be a difference in culture.” Chucknuq says.

“I’ve spoken with Nodrin on a few occasions now, and as it turns out those two are rather out of the norm. At in when using generalizations. But pairs of two is seen as a rare thing as their life-bonding tends to be more polyammous in order to form family units. Much like my own species in fact. I’m tempted to reach out to several trade-route families to see if there’s any interest in aiding the Gratt establish a sturdier footing.” Vin poses.

“You have such an influence do you?” Chucknuq inquires amused.

“Doubtful. Just… wishful thinking I suppose. But there’s no reason for me not to try.” Vin reasons.

“That’s a fair enough point, I should look into my old connections…” Chucknuq says as he slowly slithers off his seat.

“And I’d encourage you to do so! If we’re not positioned to make the bigger destiny-shifting decisions, we can try smaller ones that may snowball!” Vin agrees as he begins walking away.

Chucknuq’s dark eyes land back on the piloting console. To this day he doesn’t regret the choice he made. But at the same time feels the weight of the possible additional lives taken because of that choice. Battle is one terrible thing, but this? This is different. It’s something he saw reflected in a certain red-furred Terran back when they first had a good chat.

“Indeed.”

-

“Daaaaamn girl. That was… wow.” Simone utters with a big grin on her face as the four leave the restaurant.

“I stand by what I said.” Meeki responds sternly.

“I ain’t complaining. I have no clue if that was more of a good or bad thing… But I fuck’n approve…” Simone chuckles before taking a bite of her still half uneaten burger with the leftover fries stacked within it.

“Will there be… outrage…?” Nodrin inquires as they look to the Cali.

“Oh, I don’t believe so. At least… not in any major way. I think it may be widely dismissed as the ignorance of a new species. But I will say, I admire what you said and believe the ‘ignorance’ is on those who will dismiss it.” Chak replies from under her hood, “That being said… Like it or not your words are the first to address the galaxy at large, and so they will be the first impression many will hear.”

“I just desired- I’m sorry, I know a clash of cultures are bound to happen. But how can a community of star-traveling powers not over such trivial notions of judgment? I fail to understand it…” Meeki says annoyed, trying to ignore the constant stares of truly strange individuals from all around.

“It’s complicated… but I’m willing to attempt to help explain it! Apologies if I sound demeaning, but do you understand the processes of evolution?” Chak asks the two Gratt.

“It’s been common knowledge since the days before explosive powder that over time life changes due to environmental pressures. We have many uncovered fossils that paint that picture clearly.” Nodrin confirms.

“Good, well there is a concept known as ‘Deathworld Hyper Evolution’ which does not apply to the vast majority of other sapient species. Though there is a detailed scientific breakdown of what is or isn’t a Deathworld and if the sapient dwellers count as ‘Deathworlders’, I don’t know it extensively myself. But everyone knows the general qualifiers; there’s a higher force of gravity which promotes denser bodies and comparatively more impressive strength. Inclement weather and extreme terrain conditions, very much helps with being able to not expire and easily adapt in a wide variety of environments. Then there’s aggressive arms-race evolution, which quickly pushes a species to overcome competitors by attaining features that are… well quite terrifying to many. And finally there's more nuances and specific factors that are more regarding how each Deathworld species arose to sapience. Terran’s evolutionary ancestors for example used to live in trees and be preyed upon readily. During a six million year period, they evolved to use tools and tactics that did what their predators did but better. No claws? They made a sharp stone on a stick. Prey runs faster? They evolved to run with long distance endurance, chasing their prey that they fatally injured with said sticks.” Chak explains, not wanting to get too in depth here on a station with such an overwatch.

“That sounds much like us… just replace the trees with bodies of water. We have claws, but they are hardly any good against something like a drooga beast… so we also depended on sharp sticks… wait… so are you saying most other species rose to the stars without a mindset for toolmaking?” Nodrin counters skeptically.

“Oh, well let’s take my species for an opposing example. We evolved to be in vast herds, numbers being a priority as there used to be dominant predators. After some time my people’s ancestors figured out that it doesn’t matter how powerful something is if enough of them swarm it. After around four million years, the Cali didn’t have any significant natural predators and along the way we developed a sort of pseudo-understanding of culture. We no longer needed -nor could manage in a resource sense- vast numbers. Leaving us to our longer lifespans to focus on learning how to make life more comfortable such as religion, structures, tools and agriculture. Our intelligence was allowed to flourish in our safer conditions, leading to developments at a later stage by comparison to the Terrans.” the princess elaborates.

“So… what you're saying is that Deathworlders are simply a physical threat?” Meeki asks, hoping to isolate the point.

“Not just that. Violent conflict is in our nature… our physical presence just makes that a fuck’n threat.” Simone answers, finishing her burger, “Most other people don’t just recover like we do either. Look around us. If it wasn’t for the armed security we three could probably eradicate a good chunk of the population on this station before we would be taken down. Granted, that’s assuming there aren't a lot of armed non-deathworlders here. But still, everyone knows what we’re capable of.”

“We won’t though… why would we even want to?” Meeki inquires in disbelief.

“Serial killers exist. Can you promise that every Gratt is to be completely trusted not to go nuts?” Simone poses.

“I… I suppose not… but that’s such a minuscule percentage of our population. Surely any star-species would understand that!” Meeki argues back.

“You’re not wrong.” Simone grants “But fair or not, they already fear you from the get-go. A lot of folks from non-deathworlds are ‘prey’ species by strict definition, even if they ousted or rose above their predators… their very being is predisposed to listening to their instincts when a hyper-predator is around.”

Meeki looks to Chak in question.

“Is that how you feel being alone with us?” she asks, concerned.

The Cali’s eyes flash in embarrassment.

“Truthfully? Yes… in the background of my mind and bodily functions my instincts are screaming at me to flee. But! If you haven’t noticed my choice of… partner… through exposure and practice my instincts hold little sway in my conscious mind. Sometimes my legs stiffen up, but even that is becoming less and less of an issue. Instincts are important, but should never be a crutch when dealing with people from completely different worlds. I have always known Simone doesn’t intend on eating me.” Chak admits with a positive bounce in her stride.

“...And yet I have on several-” Simone begins to say with a devilish smirk before the Cali clasps a hand over the redhead’s mouth.

“Simone! Not in front of the Gratt please!” Chak scolds, “You know what I meant!”

As soon as the Cali removes her hand from the chuckling mouth of Simone the Terran immediately speaks up again knowing the consequences.

“What? You’ve eaten me just as-” she breaks into amused laughter as the hands clasps back down over.

“Simone!” The Cali sharply chirps, though her expression betrays her, leaking the humor she feels.

Nodrin and Meeki stare uncertain of what any of this means exactly, though their imaginations freely run wild over what sort of context they are missing out on.

Simone waves a hand signaling she had her fun, and with a final flash of her eyes Chak releases the blabber-hole for good.

“You are certainly comfortable around a powerful individual… How did you two meet again?” Meeki asks.

“Uh… in a bar… wow that sounds cliche.” Simone says.

“Well I was recruiting for a Terran in that establishment. I think I was nearly murdered, but it was the best decision of my life!” Chak adds leaning up against Simone as they walk.

“Heh… Yep, had to pull her out of a bad situation… been doing so ever since. At least… until… yeah.” Simone says as she gently pats the Cali’s back.

“Apologies for all these questions, but I’m just so fascinated. Are you two being of differing species not an issue?” Meeki questions.

“Probably for some. But I think people will care more about the shacking up with a Deathworlder thing.” Simone answers with a shrug.

“Shacking up? Is that a euphemism for intimacy?” the female Gratt presses, her four eyes expanding in curiosity.

“Yep, us Terrans have a lot of those.” Simone chuckles.

“Oh! Look! There’s a Lens vendor!” Chak speaks up, marching ahead of the pack.

From around the corner a rushing goods cart oh-so-nearly blunders over the Cali, only swerving away at the last possible second. The Borkon cart pusher stomps and hacks in fury.

“Watch it, you little good for nothing stamper!” the centaur-rhino Deathworlder barks.

Before the half-panicked Cali can get a word in, the Borkon goes flying to the ground from a thunderous strike from a Terran fist.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING ROCKETING AROUND CORNERS LIKE THAT!” Simone roars, causing all around to freeze and watch, “YOU’RE GONNA KILL SOM-AHCK!” She clutches her ribs and feels her head spin as the exertion reawakens an injury with a vengeance. She is also immediately reminded of the batch of children who are still very much strapped to her chest.

The Borkon shifts and groans wearily, gaining his wits back from the unexpected blow.

“Terrans have no right to lecture me!” he huffs as he staggers back up to his feet and lurches at the redhead.

Forcing herself through the pain, Simone hugs her arms over the chest canister and turns away as a shield. She curses herself for once again putting these kids in danger due to her own rash stupidity-

But the retaliation does not strike. Instead there’s only the recurring sound of the Borkon being thrown back onto the floor.

Simone looks back to see Nodrin standing in between her and the prone aggressor while Meeki is standing atop chittering and hissing down at the Borkon. Her tail twapping side to side like a threatening whip.

“Apologize to our Cali friend you almost hurt.” she orders for the Borkon’s translator to decipher.

The Borkon wordlessly stammers at the unknown creature upon it. An unknown creature with the strength of a Terran but faster!? And there’s two of them!?

He struggles and squirms attempting to escape the situation, knowing that he stands no chance in this situation.

“Do the stars sap you of common decency?” Meeki mutters before jumping off and to the side next to the princess.

Freed from the green Deathworlder the Borkon wastes no time scrambling away, leaving his cart behind in the process.

Nodrin then takes the time to turn back to the redhead and look her over,

“Do you require a doctor?” they ask, being careful to not prod harshly.

Wincing and still hunched, Simone shakes her head.

“I think I just need a minute…” she says without much breath to carry it.

“Very well, take your time.” Nodrin acknowledged, still keeping close.

Meeki ensures that she doesn’t touch the still frozen Cali, still unclear of how fragile she is without the making-self-stronger suit. Though she is up close.

“Are you alright?” she inquires.

“Oh… yes. I’m just glad the situation didn't devolve any further. We should go before security shows.” Chak replies, moving her slightly stiffened legs.

“Did I go too far?” Meeki asks.

“No, letting him go was the correct course of action.” Chak assures as she moves over to Simone, “I’m sorry, but we need to go.” she says to the redhead.

Simone manages a nod and begins moving along with the other three as quickly as she could in her current state.

“I shouldn’t have punched him… Why did I fuck’n punch him!?” Simone quietly scolds herself as they attempt to make a loop back towards where they can get back to their ship. .

“He nearly brought great harm to Chak, and wasn’t apologetic. I know you could have struck much harder if you wished to actually cause harm.” Meeki tries to reassure.

“I have children with a front row seat on me! They don’t need to see that shit and I put them in harm's way.” Simone argues.

“Then it is good you have us here, remember? You are in no shape to conduct your job, so leave it to us. We won’t let any harm come to the water-children.” Nodrin inputs.

“Let’s turn into this upcoming vendor, Simone can sit for a while and we can gather our thoughts.” Chak says, seeing Simone not improve much.

Without question the Gratt help the Terran into the indicated vendor’s premises. Simone looks around to see it to be a teashop of sorts. Couldn’t have asked for a better place to rest if she’s being honest.

They sit down together at a table, Simone’s breath staggers from the relief as the internal pains are no longer being jostled by constant movement.

“Think security will hunt us down?” the Terran jests.

“I don’t know. Hopefully we are not formally reported. Though judging by how reckless that Borkon was being, I doubt he will want security involved. Bystanders on the other hand… who knows what they made of that. But the possibility of mixed uncertain reports will be in our favor. For now, we sit here and recover.” Chak replies before waving over someone to take their order. Though it’s clear their presence causes a bit of unrest as her lens is sent a virtual menu and ordering service.

“I’ll get us all some nice warm tea. Sorry Simone, nothing with caffeine.” Chak notifies.

“I’ll deal.” the redhead nods.

-

After the beverages are wordlessly delivered to the table Simone is able to sit up a bit straighter.

“Thanks for… you know… dealing with the situation.” she tells the two Gratt.

“Of course. I’m glad we handled it in an acceptable manner.” Nodrin replies before tasting their warm and oddly sour substance from the provided metal cup.

Chak deactivates her Lens to draw her focus fully back to the group.

“I was really hoping to avoid something like that, but indeed I’m very thankful!” the Cali says with an appreciative bounce.

Already finished with her drink, Meeki taps all of her claws on the table in thought.

“I hope… that it doesn’t stain my people’s image…” she admits, “Perhaps I shouldn’t have pushed the individual back down to the floor… after that whole interview people might see it as hypocritical.”

“That’s just how things are out here sometimes. Though Deathworlders are known to tussle a bit every now and then. Kinda expected even.” Simone says, “But… you didn’t do what I did. I was violent and loud. So maybe there’s a good comparison for the galaxy to see? Maybe.”

“Simone.” Meeki addresses, leaning towards the Terran, “I promise on my life, not only will I strive to be a proud example for my people. But I will also advocate for yours. If our two kinds are so similar, I believe there's a wonderful future to be had.”

Simone doesn’t have the heart to argue, so she gives the female Gratt a nod and starts to chug down her fancy dirt-water.

“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to order some basic Lenses to be shipped to the Kwip-chap and try them out there. We might have already overstayed our welcome here I’m afraid.” Chak concludes.

“Good call. At least we haven’t had anyone shoot at us yet.” Simone jokes as she pushes herself back up. She still feels the internal pain, but by this point it’s much more manageable, “And besides… next stop is for you guys!” she adds as she looks down into the Watathling canister.

“Indeed!” Chak agrees as she remotely pays for the beverages and takes hold of Simone’s hand, “I’m sure their family can’t wait to see them!”

As the group of four leave inbound for their docked ship, Meekie’s long ear twitches at something. Noticing their bondmate express concern, Nodrin leans close to her.

“What’s wrong cherished? Is it the four footed Deathworlder again?” they ask.

“No… I keep hearing strange sounding footsteps trailing behind us… ever since the interview. I dismissed it as someone simply being curious of us, but I have yet to actually catch sight of them.” she notifies.

“Strange how?” Simone asks, not thinking too much on it, “There’s a lot of new species tht you haven’t experienced being around yet.”

“That’s the thing… they are heavy… like how it was naturally on our world. Yet their stride is very much akin to… I suppose like yours, Simone.” the Gratt updates.

Not sure what that could mean exactly, something starts to not sit right in the Terran’s gut. Immediately she ‘casually’ unstraps the canister and holds it carefully to Nodrin.

“Take the kiddos for me. Let’s pick up the pace.” she instructs, pushing herself to increase her stride. Is it security? News? Overly curious fucko? Regardless they really needed to leave.

“Their steps have quickened as well! Faster than us!” Meeki says.

Simone peeks back, only for her heart to sink. Like in some off putting horror movie a Terran shaped figure draped in a dark sith-style cloak was boting at a full fucking sprint around a corner and straight for them!

“Run!” Simone orders, “Meeki take Chak on your back!”

Without another word the Gratt positions herself ahead of the Cali and allows her to mount up. She takes this chance to bolt ahead, leaving Simone in the dust.

“You too! Go! Get the elevator ready!” the redhead directed Nodrin.

“Al-alright.” they accept, tearing off to bob and weave around the now terrified inhabitants. The irony isn’t lost on Simone for maddeningly running through a somewhat crowded station when she had not too long ago given street justice to someone for doing the same. Definitely a thought to mull over in the future.

She quickly finds herself struggling to maintain a fast pace as her insides feel as if they are tearing apart, only somewhat numbed by the adrenaline. By the time she makes it to the crossway she can hear the thundering clatter behind her.

“Yup. Something isn’t right with this fucker.” Simone thinks as she turns down towards the open elevator where her crew awaits.

“RIGHT BEHIND Y-” Chak screams in genuine terror.

Oh princess, Simone was well aware.

The redhead musters herself to jump, curl up and kick right into the center mass of her pursuer. She feels as though she launched herself from a fucking solid wall as she casades into the elevator like a spiraling superman. She smashes against the wall and turns back to see Chak hit the emergency door seal. The star-war wannabe does not let up their speed as the door hammers closed. Concerningly powerful bashes against it ring the elevator like a demented bell, however thankfully it quickly grows mute as the elevator shoots upward.

Panting, Simone presses her back to the wall and sinks into a sitting position.

“Great… It’s officially impossible for us to have a nice evening out… now we got Darth-Fucknugget to contend with… What’s next? Fuckin’ Spock?”