A Journey through known space- episode 2. A fanfic by AamirRyuu (A continuation of the series.) Now most people when confronted with the largest enemy mothership they had ever had the displeasure to see, would most likely enact one of the following choices: a- Run away b- Cry like a girl and hide c- Call for back up I however, due to my inexplicable ignorance simply stood there with my mouth gaping open and drool running down my helmet. Kinda like an adolescent viewing pornography for the first time, except without the… arousal. This ketch was not simply large, or “big for its breeches” it was so incredibly massive it was rather stupid. So mind bogglingly large, it eclipsed the sun on a hot summer day. As you can imagine, this situation was FAR from a favorable one. After I’d had my fair share of ogling the ship, I gathered my wits about me and continued with my plan to raid the fallen skiff. A rather daring one if I do say so myself. So I gripped my scout rifle a little harder, and launched myself into its holding bay. Now inside I checked the corners. Left, nothing. Right, clear also. “so far so good”. I radioed Sophie. Also for future reference, my nickname for Sophie when I want her to be annoyed is Soap. Like a soap bar. See, she has very sensitive skin, an eccentric vulnerability for such a “strong willed” girl; and bar soap has an odd effect of spreading a dreadful rash over the entirety of her body. And yes, I do mean everywhere. Yes, even that spot you dirty minded person. The very thought of soap touching her sends such a gruesome chill down her spine I cannot help but call her it. "Soap, it is mostly clear in here, send Warren in for backup. Just make sure he doesn’t trip over his ghost on the way here.” Sophie responded rather angrily. “Damnit Ream, you know I hate that word! And you know what? Screw you. You’ll have to deal with it. You want backup? Don’t run into the middle of the enemy lines like an asshole just to impress that slut from sector 2!” “Her name is Cici, and at least she has breasts and a decent personality and doesn’t hit me every chance she gets!” I retorted. “-blam!- you! Warren and I don’t need to put up with your shit. Try and only receive an almost mortal wound ok? I don’t need you dying, just…..in pain.” She hung up on me. Real nice Sophie, reeeaaaal nice. “Yeah, really feeling the love.” I rolled my eyes as I considered her chastisement. Yeah, I could be a bit of a dick, but really, asshole? That seems a tad much. The loud clanging of the metal floor alerted me of someone approaching from the opposite end of the hall way. Clink...clonk…clink…clonk. What was that? Loading my shotgun, I leaned across the wall and blind fired a couple times. The blast in such a confined hallway induced a sharp, painful ring in my ears. If only my helmet had actually been standard issue, this wouldn’t have happened. But no, “recruits” don’t have any need for newer models. Turning the corner, I was greeted with the bodies of a dreg, and 2 vandals. “Sometimes, I actually do good.” I said to myself. Perhaps karma heard me, perhaps God was implying I was being too proud, because a shock grenade had nestled itself between my boots. Only 1 word crossed my mind. Shit. I then had the unique opportunity to have myself thrown against the wall from the blast, and have all my muscles freeze up from the electric surge. I grunted in pain, which only made it worse. After a couple of seconds my suit’s life support system came on and released a muscle relaxant to give me back motor control. I staggered to my feet. This only wouldn’t have been so bad, Sophie’s storm fist easily out ranks this on the pain scale any day. But alas, my life couldn’t be that simple, a captain picked me up with 2 of his hands by my throat, and proceeding to, as the kids say, “beat the shit out of me.” I fumbled for my knife as my eyesight went dim, and wrapping my fingers around the hilt, slide the blade between his neck bones. His body crumpled lifelessly to the floor. God he really did smell awful. While his hands were on my neck I threw up a little from the smell. Ogres smell like daisies compared to this guy. The smell was similar to a compost dump; I swear I was cleaning puke from my visor for days. I gripped my throat, waiting for the light within me to heal my wounds. Slowly the relief spread through my body. All of a sudden the ship lurched forward violently, and I lost my balance. Trying to find the source of the abrupt movement, I rushed down the hall and into the cockpit. Seeing the pilot, I shot him in the head while I rushed to look out the window. That was when I really wanted to kick myself. Miles and miles of land stretched out, the Traveler was a distant landmark. The wall was the size of a string. See, when ships take off, they are subjected to acceleration, causing the sudden, violent movement. Pilots start the ship, ie are the ones putting it in the air. If I had only spared him, perhaps made him land, I wouldn’t have had to fall prey to the orbital drop. Which by the way, really hurts.