by queen_marshed (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/176157.html)
by scistor_sizzer (mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/176014.html)
“Oh, yes,” I said into the headset, “fuck my pussy. That’s right, fuck me right in my tight cunt. God, I love your big fat cock. Stick your big cock in me, you big man. Yes, yes, harder, yes. I want you to come all over my tits and face, baby. Yeah, baby, all over my tits. That’s so good. I want to taste that fat dick, you big stud.”
The light of a thousand stars filled the small frame of film. Probably closer to a million stars when he considered that the small speck he’d captured was probably a galaxy, almost unimaginably far away. He focused in on the speck, calling on several filters and image sharpening tools at his disposal. Yes, there was the tell-tale halo, just barely visible against the background radiation, the change in gravity. He focused in a little more, applying a couple more filters and he was able to see the shape, a small elliptical galaxy that the disk was showing the beginnings of separation into arms of a spiral. Excitement coursed through his body. This little blob of stars and gas was the proof of his theory he’d been searching for. But he also knew, as any scientist does, that one image, one galaxy, doesn’t proof make. He’d have to find more, deep in the Universe’s past.
Kunday had finally had enough of his beach-crawling. His hide was covered with rock-bruises, he was bored beyond understanding, and his strained air-lungs made his chest tighter then it should have been. He had picked the wrong duty-station yet again.
He had spent days wandering between the beach and the water, pretending to be the lookout for the lazy sirens that pocked the coast. He felt more like a voyeur then an actual lifeguard.
“See the surface, Mentor said. The sirens need you, Mentor said. It’ll do you some good… my gills!” Habit kept his clicks soft so as not to betray his position. He had to be out of sight whenever he could afford it. His duty did not include fornicating with the Maa’rish warriors who invaded the beach.
Mike would have liked to say he felt something electric when it began, but it had been a pretty typical day as far as he was concerned. He’d been writing a final at the base when the call for a recon job came in and he and Henrietta played Uno in the van on the way there. Amanda was driving that time, not Zeb, and Jonathan sat shotgun, giving instructions. Jonathan always sat shotgun and he always read the M.O. in a monotone. He only became animated when planning the details.
Being human had its disadvantages. Mike wouldn’t mention that anywhere near a camera, since the agency’s psych department would drag him away for a battery of tests before Mike could convince them he vastly preferred it to the alternative, but years ago he might have known something was off just instinctively, spidey-sense style. As it was he could maybe blame the whole team for being sloppy.
Wires and panels. Just like in the old times. Everyone knew something was amiss the moment they set foot aboard. It hung heavily in the air, the uncertainty; the feeling that they wouldn’t like whatever was next. Even the sergeant, an old warhorse that nothing could impress anymore, looked uneasy.
They weren’t assigned sleeping quarters. Instead, the sergeant herded them in a communal area and ordered them to take seats and keep the noise down. They remained there through takeoff. Nervous in the face of such an unusual procedure. Xander was seated between two friends of his, and it didn’t even cross his mind to start a conversation. It felt as if the silence would cut them all should anyone break it.
“You’ve been made.”
Kia was in the middle of making breakfast when he realized the world was going to end in a little more than an hour. He’d already burned his toast, too; it was shaping up to be a hell of a morning.