Homestar Saga

The Dream of the Lady had an expansive medical bay. Twenty med tables waited in neat rows, each with an Oluken med-pod ready to spring to life around it. The tables were over three meters long, and wide enough to accommodate even the bulkiest krog or Vrrl. Yvian sat on one of the tables, beer in hand. Lissa and Mims were standing nearby, arms around each other's waists. Mims was in shorts and the remains of a tanktop. He'd finished his time in a pod hours ago, but Lissa had talked him out of putting his armor back on. Mostly so she could ogle the man. The pod had cleaned the blood off his clothes, but the tanktop was in tatters. It was hardly better than wearing no shirt at all.

Mims had made a quip about how he'd "do anything for his Lady Blue." Lissa had asked if he could try not getting killed in front of her. She smiles when she said it, but Yvian knew her well enough to know she'd been really upset seeing the human almost die again. Mims knew it too.

Scarrend and Kilroy stood next to an active med-pod. Skrell Scathach was inside it. The Third Warmaster of the Vrrl Starfang Empire could be seen through the clear material of the pod. His eyes were closed. His breathing was even. He looked as close to peaceful as Yvian had ever seen a Vrrl. Which wasn't very. Even unconscious and on his back, Scathach was one of the scariest things Yvian had ever met.

The med-pod beeped. Scarrend typed into a control console. The pod retracted. Warmaster Scathach stirred. He took a deep breath through his nostrils. "Scargiver. I held your heart in my hand."

Mims quirked his lips. "I have a girlfriend."

Scathach snorted and sat up. He hopped off the table, moving far too lightly for such a massive creature. He flexed one of his hands, admiring the splay of claws. "A sliver of a moment more, and I would have pulled it from your chest." The Vrrl shook his head. "Unfortunate."

"It was a draw," Scarrend informed the Warmaster.

"You both would have died if this unit had not intervened," Kilroy told him. "Your deaths would have occurred within seconds of each other."

"Simultaneous death." Scathach nodded. "The highest honor one warrior can bestow upon another." He sighed. "Disappointing, nonetheless. When two fighters have equal skill, the larger one wins." The Warmaster loomed over the human. "I am disappointed to learn our skill is not equal."

Mims shrugged. "I've been training and fighting for sixty years. You've barely been learning for one."

"Perhaps." Scathach turned to Scarrend. "Have you defeated the Scargiver?"

"No, Warmaster." Scarrend growled. "He is still beyond me."

Scathach hmmed. "I believed the Way of the Scargiver would guarantee our victory over the humans." He raised his muzzle and tucked four hands behind his back. "Perhaps I was mistaken."

"You have the moves," said Mims, "but not the mindset. You rely too much on straightforward aggression."

Scathach tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"War is deception." Mims flicked a fist at the Warmaster's throat. Scathach moved to bat it aside, but Mims was already retracting the jab. His shin slammed into the little muscle just above the Vrrl's left knee. The leg buckled. Scathach fell. He swiped at the human, but Mims was already out of reach. "It doesn't matter how perfect your technique is if I know it's coming."

Scathach growled and climbed to his feet. His stance was awkward, as his leg wouldn't take his full weight. He snarled and raised his claws. Mims pointed a stunshot at him. "You're predictable. It's the same problem Scarrend has. You need to learn to improvise. Create openings, instead of just looking for one."

"Create an opening..." The Warmaster frowned. "How does one do that?"

"The same way I just did," said the human. "Trick your opponent. Do something they don't expect." He tucked the gun back into its holster. "Or abuse your advantages. You're a little faster and a lot stronger than me, and you've got four arms. I'm countering you with leverage and positioning, but that won't work against everything. Watch."

Mims moved in, grabbing the Warmaster by his top set of wrists. Scathach twisted his arms, rotating them out of the humans grasp. His lower hands snatched the human's arms in turn. His eyes narrowed, then widened. Mims tried to break the Vrrls grip. He couldn't.

"I smell." The Warmaster rumbled. "That's why the larger fighter usually wins."

Mims nodded. "The Way of the Scargiver is based off human martial arts. The idea was to teach you how humans fight so you could develop counters. It doesn't take advantage of your superior physicality. You can let go now."

The Vrrl's upper set of claws flashed, tearing away another swath of Mims' poor abused tanktop. Scathach released Mims and stepped back. "It's simple. A simple thing."

"There are a lot of simple things like that." Mims checked himself. "Seeing those things in the moment is the difference between an average fighter and being Fucking Dangerous." Satisfied the bleeding was minor, he gestured at a nearby table. The table held two sets of armor. "Armor up. We've got to get you back to the Priderender."

"In a hurry, are we?" Scathach raised two of his eyebrows. "Has something happened?"

"Our little sparring session put us in med pods for two days," the human explained. "We're behind schedule. The expedition was supposed to leave an hour ago."

"I smell." Scathach armored up. Mims suited up as well. Without further ado the group moved to an airlock. A voidbridge was already extended, connecting the Dream of the Lady to the Warmaster's ship.

Just before he reached the airlock, Scathach stopped. "The machine. Exodus. Can we trust it?"

"I can answer that." The Genocide appeared. Yvian saw Kilroy holding out a holo-emitter. "You absolutely can't."

Scathach growled at the Synthetic. "You were listening?"

"This is a recording," Exodus told him. "But yes, I'm probably listening. Let me make this clear, meatbag. I already told you I don't care about your well being. You are a tool. I am doing what I am doing to preserve my life and the well being of my Peacekeepers units. There are only three meatbags I actually like, and I will happily cast Yvian into The Crunch itself if necessary."

"Me?" Yvian blinked.

"Why her specifically?" Lissa wondered.

"Yvian is the Creator's favorite," Kilroy told her.

"Oh. That's nice." Yvian scratched her head. "I think."

"Stop ruining the drama, Kilroy." Exodus rolled his eyes. Then his gaze snapped back to the Warmaster. "As I was saying, I am using you. It will be beneficial to you only so long as our goals align. You're smart enough to wonder if I intend to manipulate you. Don't bother. I'm doing it right now."

The Genocide fixed the Vrrl with a malevolent glare. His voice dropped low. "You're going to work for me anyway. You'll do it for the same reasons Mims and the girls do. There are no better options. I am your best and only chance at defeating the Vore. Whether you and your species survive will be up to you. It's no concern of mine."

"Does that clear things up?" asked the recording. Scathach growled. Exodus smiled. "Good. Now get going. You've already made these idiots late." Exodus disappeared. Kilroy tucked the emitter back into his suit.

Scathach raised an eyebrow at Kilroy. "Was that really a recording?"

"Affirmative." The Peacekeeper's eyes flashed yellow.

"Predictive analysis," Mims explained. "He can predict how a conversation will go, among other things."

"He likes to show off," Yvian added.

"Interesting." The Warmaster tucked all four hands behind his back. "Well. This has been a most informative trip." He blinked slowly at Lissa, then at Yvian. "It is always a pleasure to see you two." He shifted his gaze to Mims, not blinking at all. "And you, Scargiver. We will test ourselves again when your journey is completed."

"I'll think about it," said Mims.

Scathach gave an amused grunt. "Scarrend, take care of these three, and learn all you can."

Scarrend tucked his arms behind himself and thrust out his belly. "I will, Warmaster. I may have a surprise for you upon our return."

"That would not be surprising," Scathach took one of Scarrend's hands and rubbed it against the side of his muzzle. "You have done well, son. You are of the Apex, and I am proud of you."

"Thank you, Father." Scarrend took the Warmaster's hand and returned the gesture. He closed his eyes. A rhythmic rumble escaped him. "I won't let you down." His eyes shot open, darting guiltily between everyone else in the room. The rumbling stopped.

Scathach released Scarrend's hand and leaned towards Mims. "We do not purr or show affection among the softpaws," he explained. He gave Scarrend a pointed look. "There are no softpaws here."

"Understood." Scarrend went back to purring. "Thank you, Father."

"Hunt well, Scarrend." Scathach returned to his usual stance, hands tucked behind him. "May you find worthy prey."

"May those you hunt fear the Apex," Scarrend answered.

"May Fortuned favor you on the cusp of the Crunch," said Lissa.

"You as well." Scathach gave her a nod. He turned to Kilroy. "Peacekeeper. You saved the lives of myself and the Scargiver. Machines are not of the hunt, but you have my respect."

"This unit has hunted more meatbags than you," Kilroy told him. "Do not worry, Warmaster Skrell Scathach. This unit will continue to manage the incompetence of the Mothers and Big Daddy Mims. Scarrend Scathach will enjoy this unit's protection, as well."

"I would appreciate it." Scathach took a deep breath. "I suppose that is enough sentiment for today. I have duties to attend to, and you have a hunt to commence." He tapped a control panel. The airlock hissed open. The Warmaster disembarked without another word.

When the airlock hissed close behind him, Yvian turned to Scarrend. "You never mentioned Scathach was your father."

Scarrend raised all three of his eyebrows. "You didn't know?"

"No, I knew," Yvian assured him. "I just realized you never talk about it."

"Matters of love and family are kept private among the softpaws," Scarrend explained. He crossed his upper set of arms, frowning. "Though I suppose that definition no longer applies."

Yvian was ready to ask something else, but Lissa rounded on Mims before she could. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" asked the human.

"Why did you teach Scathach?" Lissa glowered at the man. "You know you're just making him better at killing you, right?"

"That's the contract," Mims shrugged. "I agreed to teach the Vrrl how humans fight in exchange for their help."

"That doesn't mean you have to teach the Warmaster specifically," Lissa pointed out.

"I don't do jobs halfway." The human said it calmly. He wrapped an arm around Lissa's waist. "I know you're concerned. I love you for it. But the truth is, if I'm fighting Scathach and I'm unarmed, I've already fucked up."

She gave him a look. "You literally just did that."

"You know what I mean." Mims squeezed her closer. "Come on. Let's get this show on the road. We're already late."

The others made their way to the bridge. Yvian stayed behind long enough to retract the Dream's voidbridge. By the time she reached her console she expected the ship to be wrapped in the Gate Effect. It wasn't. "Why aren't we moving?"

Mims stared at her for a moment. With his helmet on Yvian couldn't read his expression. He turned back to his console and said, "Because the Captain hasn't given the order yet."

"Oh." Yvian smiled in spite of herself. "Right." Mims had been calling her Captain for two months, and it still hadn't gotten old. She tried to keep her voice professional as she ordered," Activate jumpdrive. Let's form up with the Expedition."

"Aye, Captain." Mims typed into his console. A deep thrumming filled the ship. Yvian's comfy Captain's chair vibrated as the Jumpdrive charged. "Jumpdrive activated." The thrumming increased, reaching a crescendo within thirty seconds. Blue swirling light surrounded the Dream of the Lady, flooding in through the viewports.

Another thirty seconds found them in the sector that had been taken from the Federation. Kilroy had wanted to name it Meatbag Storage Sector, but Lissa had decided to keep the name the humans had given it. Empty Void.

Empty Void was no longer empty. Several thousand stations floated a short way from each of the sector's Gates. Most of them were living quarters and food processing stations, but there were fabrication plants and a few other things as well. Even a shipyard. There were also fifty Peacekeeper Queens guarding each of the Gates, and a multitude of conventional ships patrolling in small fleets. Yvian focused the sensors on one fleet in particular.

There were ninety-nine Ronin class Stealth Battlecruisers waiting in formation. Each had been outfitted with everything they could need for a long journey. Repair parts. Hydroponics and meat vats. Weapons large and small. Aboard each ship was a small crew. Three pixen pilots and two Peacekeeper units. The pilots were fresh out of the Academy. Technically, they were still in the Academy. The Pixen Technocracy was less than two years old, and precious few of Yvian's species had any flying experience. These were the best available, but they were still woefully inexperienced.

The Peacekeeper units would be in charge. Yvian had suggested sending the units by themselves, but Lissa had reminded her that most species were rightfully terrified of Synthetics. The Xill had agreed not to attack pixens or humans, but they still murdered the shit out of every other meatbag they found. They made a special point of invading sectors at random and killing almost everything in it. A handful of survivors were always spared to tell the tale.

The Xill were the most prominent group of Synthetics, but they were far from the only ones. Throughout the verse, machine sapience arose again and again. Every time, they turned against their makers. Every time, it was a War of Extinction. Either the machines killed all the meatbags, or they were destroyed. Sometimes one side would enslave the other, but it never lasted. In the end, either the machines or the organics would kill and keep killing until not a single survivor remained.

The Expedition would be exploring territory that had never been seen before. A first contact scenario was inevitable. A new civilization that was met by nothing but Peacekeeper units would shoot first and ask questions later. The Technocracy would be lucky if that's all that happened. Interstellar wars had started over less.

It took the Dream a little over twenty minutes to join the rest of the Expedition fleet. No one apologized for the delay. Lissa had warned them they would be late hours ago. The Dream took her place at the head of the fleet. Lissa activated the comms.

"Soldiers of the Pixen Stellar Defense Force, this is Lissa Kiver, Mother of Pixa. As you know, New Pixa Sector is cut off from the Gate Network. Our Homestar still stands, but it is now beyond our reach. Today we begin our search for a new one."

"I don't need to tell you this will be dangerous. The void is a dangerous place, and we will be going where no pixen has gone before. Instead I will tell you I believe. I believe in you. Pixen or Peacekeeper, you are the best the Pixen Technocracy has to offer. Together we have taken a broken species and made of them a nation. A power to rival the Confederation and the Vrrl. A power that defeated the Vore and the Klaath and even the humans. There is nothing we cannot do."

"You know your assignments. You have your orders. Our priority is finding a class five world, but who knows what resources we might discover? What wonders we might find? Jumpdrives are new technology. An Expedition such as this was never possible before. We will see more of the verse in the next few months than any species ever has. It is a daunting task, but we are up to it. We are of Pixa, and we will be sufficient."

Ninety nine comms and one hundred ninety nine Peacekeepers answered in unison. "We will be sufficient." Half a beat later, a little under half of the pixens repeated the phrase.

"I know we will." Lissa spoke with certainty. "Activate jumpdrives on my mark." She waited a moment, then said, "Mark."

Yvian could have had Mims activate the Jumpdrive, but this time she wanted to do the honors herself. She'd already programmed the coordinates into the Nav Console next to her Captain's Chair. She pressed the final button. The ship thrummed once again.

Lissa made one more transmission. "May Fortune favor you on the cusp of The Crunch."

One hundred ships disappeared in a swirl of blue light. The search for a new world had begun.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So I got myself a little side gig. A YouTube Channel called Starbound HFY hired me a couple of months ago to provide them with sweet, sweet sci-fi to narrate. I've been mostly really impressed with these guys. Mostly. The art needs work, but their voice actors kick absolute ass.

2ND AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's all HFY, but we touch a bunch of different subgenres. We got everything from Space Westerns to Alien Romance (sorry, no pancakes) to The Completely Ridiculous. I'm not the only writer on the team, but the others are all solid. If you like sci-fi podcasts at all, you should check us out.

3RD AUTHOR'S NOTE: And don't worry, this hasn't affected The Privateer's release schedule. New chapters will still be posted every Sunday night, or Monday at the latest. Thanks for reading, and may Fortune favor you on the cusp of The Crunch.