[~*M*~]

Ah! It's good to be back ~ ~ ~ ~ I know ,, I know ,, I have been inactive for a while ,, but c'est la vrai vie ~ ~ ~ I've promised to post this long since I don't know ,, half a year ,, but never got to do it. It's something a bit different than what I have shared so far on here. It's one of the finest sci~fi settings I have done to date ,, and I trust that ~most~ of you will enjoy it ,, especially those with a tiny geeky side~inside like me !! ~ Besides ,, it features the one and only Mishrocks ,, who totally rocks !! ~


First, and needless of introduction; the vivacious Michelle!! x



And her opponent, the Cookie~monster ,, moi!!





Mish:     We weren’t on a five-year mission.  Nor were we in a galaxy far, far away.  We were here, in our galaxy, the Milky Way—-not a long time ago, but now, the year 2122.  May 16, to be exact.  It doesn’t sound romantic—-doesn’t sound like geekified science fiction.  Really?  Consider this—-the galaxy—-our galaxy, is 100,000 light years in diameter, and 1000 light years thick.  A light year is the distance that light can travel in one year.  That comes out to one light year equaling about 5.87849981 × 1012 miles.   And the Milky Way is 100,000 of those in diameter.

   Bitch—-that is one big fucking candy bar.

   And old.  The oldest star in the Milky Way, star HE 1523-0901, was estimated to be about 13.2 billion years old. The galaxy is thought to be just slightly older.  And our job—-well, their job, is, well, rather was, to study HE 1523-0901, as it enters its death phase.

   Last month, this team was sent to Station A-344, one of the most remote stations in the galaxy, to study HE 1523 (Or He-Man, as we liked to call it), essentially to record how a star dies.  We knew that as it died, it began to build mass, and its gravitational field increased to astounding, exponential proportions.  But to see, to record the process, as it occurred, well, this is what science orgasm are made from.

   Of course, stars take hundred of thousand of years to die.  This one had been on its deathbed for some time.  But we knew that there had been significant changes recently—-enough so that it warranted—-at least it was argued—-the expense of sending out a team of 5 to study He-Man for a month, collect data, and then bring it back to Earth.  The next team would travel out in a year, and do the same thing.

   That had been the plan.  4 scientific-astronaut type geeks, and me—-the money girl. The one sent by the venture capitalist funding this expedition.  The one who had so much cash invested in finding out how these shifting magnetic fields based by He-Man might be used to enhance the commercial production of soma-chip—-the genetically-grafted combination of human genome and nanobyte technology—-I don’t really get all the science, but what i know is that under special gravitational conditions, geeks can fuse nanobytes to genetic material and create, relatively easily as they say. chips that, when surgically inserted in the brain, essentially allow humans to have the capacity of a computer with the equivalent operating system of Windows XX!V in their brain.

   There were billions  of dollars to be made from this, of course.  And my job was to see how the prototypes did when created under those gravity conditions on this aging space station.

   That had been the plan.  Of course, the gravitation shifts affected more than just this nanobyte stuff.  Waves rocked the station almost constantly, so much so that now and then the artificial gravity here ‘blinked’ and for a micro-second, you could feel yourself start to life off the floor—-and then drop back down almost instantly.

    But the constant buffering of the gravity waves against the station had taken their toll.  Yesterday eve the strain on the hull integrity was too great, and pieces of the hull began to separate.  Massive explosions ensued, computer main frame erupted in sparks and flames.  Three members of the crew died.  Our pilot was burned to death.  The commander was jettisoned into the  cold vacuum of space before the structural integrity field could be brought on line, and the navigator had been implied by a large piece of shrapnel.

    Mish:  That left just two survivors—-myself, and, well, her.   The science chick.  The 7 of 9 to my Cruella Deville.  The Lt. Savik to my green Orion slave girl (ok, maybe that was pushing it—-I mean, I did have a brain!).  The crew loved her—-and it wasn’t her brain they creamed over.  I mean, 5 of us cooped up for a month—-I did get some glances and flirting, but a 5’2 and 105 pounds, I was cute but diminutive.  She, on the other hand, was tall, blonde, statuesque, and smart.  God really fell asleep at the wheel of cosmic justice, i often find.

    But whatever.  I tried to put my loathing of this new-world Barbie aside so together we could figure out what to do.  The blast had destroyed the retros.  It was clear that our orbit was decaying, and we were slowly being pulled in the He-Man.  That, we could do nothing about.  There were escape pods, of course, and right now, she was checking them out.  Were they functional?  How do they work?  Could they break the away form the gravitational pull?  Inquiring minds want to know!  Because, my friends…if we can’t get off A-344.  The story ends here.  We will be pulled into He-Man and cease to exist.  Period.  There are no rescues coming, no patrol ships in the area.  We escape, or we die.



Emily:  How do you accept death ?? Really. I've pondered that notion throughout my life. Ever since I stood there, my tiny hands pressed against the glass of the emergency shuttle. And even as it detached from the main station and started to propel itself away from the white maze-like foliage that's busting from the seams, my eyes were fixed on the small hull~window of the dock, at the faces of my parents who were just looking at me, tears in their eyes, but they were smiling. They were smiling, in acceptance. That their sacrifice was worth something. I've wondered all my life since that point, to the meaning of it all. Life, how it started, and why it ended.

    And in an age where genetic engineering and medicine has conquered every disease known to mankind ,, where professional football and basketball players would retire in their 60's and life expectany passed the 150 years mark. Everyone had a lot of time to think. And the search for answers became  the only solace I found. The nightmare haunted me though, almost every night that I dared go to bed without artificially inducing sleep. And during this assignment, even the meds did not spare me of it. I dreamt it during the 7 months cryogenic sleep that the crew of the Octavius were put under, only to be awakened two weeks before arriving at the Pegasus, the space station orbiting HE 1523 ~ as we will refer to from now on as He-Man.

    Gawd did I wish they extended the sleep a week longer, even a day. The nightmares I could handle, I got used to, and I knew that the ghosts of my past will continue to haunt me forever. But it's the unfortunate company that I could not tolerate, nor understand. I had great respect for Stanley Gibson, the founder and main funder of this mission ,, the four that preceded it ,, and the countless ones that will follow it. He appreciated science, and it was quite remarkable that someone would invest that much money undertaking a project that would not end in his life time.

    But what I could not understand, is why Stanley's daughter, Michelle had to come on board with us. For the first week where we were soaring past our own Solar system, all i could hear from her was her pretense that this was ~her~ money, and ~her~ mission. She clearly saw nothing in this but cash and profit, and the superficial financial return that manufacturing the Soma Chips. Gawd if she was a cartoon ,, her eyes would turn to $$ everytime she talked. But I understood. Daddy's precious girl wanted to be a part of an ~extreme vacay~ one to burn the hearts of her spoilt bratty friends when they meet next year in some resort on Europa (( Jupiter's moon ,, and not me mispelling Europe )) or Neptune.

    I did not mind that, and did my best to do what I'm here for. Research. And for my good fortune she had zero~interest in the scientific aspect of the mission which meant we barely had anything to talk about. We arrived at Pegasus ,, and dock was a success. However the readings were not. I foresaw the disaster, the exponential spike in the radiation levels, that I knew the Ionic shields were not designed to maintain. We were arguing feverishly ,, me and her last night. I was telling her that we needed to abort the mission ,, that the station was going to collapse. And all she did was roll her eyes ,, blow her gum into my face and tell me 'nah it's gonna be alright'. Of course telling her that I helped design the station did not matter.

    And before I could decide if I should just leave her behind and take the rest of the crew, the first explosion shook the entire station. And section by section ,, we tried to isolate the fires. But there was no coming back. We were rats running in a giant tube. One after another collapsed and died. And the horrors of the last few hours just brought to me everything from that day when I lost my parents. And of course it figures that the last two standing were me and here. But we made it to the shuttles. And Thank God that section had two. I rushed to them while you squeaked like a mouse asking me if they were operational. Figures you would instead of going to one yourself.

    I tapped on the keys quickly and unlocked the first, telling you to get into it ,, and you actually ~pushed~ me out of the way just to get in. Fine ,, survival mode, I get it. And I rushed to the second. I got in and started tapping on the controls. When I heard you screaming. I looked and you were there flailing and telling me it's not working. I got up and rushed to your capsule helping you out. And as I checked it ,, my blood froze. The capsule was fine. But the outer lock gate was jammed by debris. This capsule was not going anywhere. And as I told you that, I turned my head to see you running across the room towards ~my~ capsule!!

    Oh fuck NO!! And without really thinking ,, the matter was clear to me. I'm not about to sacrifice my life for this little brat. I've survived one exploding station ,, because of my parents sacrifice. And it won't go in vain because of you. I got up and charged ,, in my black boy shorts ,, and black sports bra ,, checking you hard with my left shoulder before you could enter my capsule ~ "What the FUCK do you think you're doing??"



Mish:  I waited---not too patiently, as you tapped and poked and prodded, making it look like you were all so scientific and shit. We ALL know it's the computer that really runs this shit.  Who are you fooling?  Certainly not me.  My dad BOUGHT this shit!  But whatever, I DO need to know how to work these things, and, unfortunately, you're my mentor, like it or not.  Finally, signlaing to me that it's OK, I push past you and get in---well, after all, I own this stuff.  Well, daddy does---and what's his, will be mine.Plus, there's another one on the other side.  It's, like, 30 feet away, and with those long gams, you'll be there in like 3 seconds.  Go poke and prod there, and I'll race you back to earth, geek-bitch.  

    I wedge myself into the seat---Jesus, who did they build these for?  I mean I'm 5'2",  and it's tight for me.  You?  You'll be scrunched in.   I muse....GOOD!  Like every fucking other thing in here, the seat is ice cold.  The blasts happened at night---woke us all up (before it killed three of us), so we were in the regulation gear.  I was in my sleeping bag, wearing just my  black panties and a white, three-quarter sleeve  t-shirt.  As usual, I had flung my trek-type jumpsuit in the corner, preparing to unball it the following morning and slip on my Galactica boots or whatever the hell they were called.  Now, only hours later, I'd have KILLED for those ugly things--and a pair of pants---or even a skirt!  The blasts and ensuing fires had torn through a lot of our stuff.

    There were some rations and water left, and I had scrounged up a blanket, but I was barefoot and cold.  and FUCK!  I left the blanket near the mainframe.  Whatever...  I pushed the buttons like you showed me, and overrode the automatic gate-release.  Silence.  nothing happening.  What?  Repeating the procedure, and.... nothing.  I know I got it right---I watched you do it.  Fine---let the fucking computer do it.  Switching over to the computer, I hit ENTER, and...nothing!!  WTF!!??  Panic sets in, and I strat to scream!!  

    You gallop over, do techinical shit, and then tell me that the gate is blocked.  Debris is jamming it, even though the capsule is fine... My mind races at your words, mouth going dry.  But, all is not lost---there's of course another escape pod.  I yank myself out of this one---yours, now---and run to the opposite side.  Again, daddy owns these---they're mine.  I get the one that works.  20 feet...fucking cold floor...15 feet...Huh? shadow behind me...10 feet...fuck!  forgot the blanket again!,,,5 feet...UUUNH!  You jam me with your shoulder and my trajectory veers me to the left, away from my life boat and into a wall of lights---some flashing, some dead.  I put out my hands to avoid becoming an instant cyborg, and then spin to face you.  

    "Don't EVER touch me again..." seething, chest heaving from the run and dropping oxygen level.  You're part of this crew---I'm NOT!  This is your JOB!  That pos is mine.  You're the fucking genious---fix the other one!"  Cutting my eyes, I glance over to the right and see the extinguisher on it side...a toppled soldier from last night's battle.  Scooping it up, I shake it---yep, still some shit left, and aim it at you.  "It's for chemical fires, slut.  Think what it'll do to your eyes.  Move aside.  "  


Emily:  I can't fucking believe this ~Piece of Shit~ Really?? When I fucking turn my back to her to fix HER problem ,, she's trying to screw me over?? My light brows furrow ,, almost knotting above my nose ,, moving swiftly to the right. To put my body between you and the lifepod. Ok Princess ,, this isthe end of the road. For you ,, that's for sure. I see you turn hysterical ,, raging and fuming and yelling at me to not touch you again!! My brows unfurrow to rise in surprise ,, my blue eyes gazing upon you in surprised. Is she for real ??

    "I have no fucking interest in touching you ,, trust me ,, I've touched a LOT of Guinea Pigs in my lab. The one I'm going back to ,, to fucking do something good for humanity. And Newsflash ,, if you're ranting about the whole Captain goes down with the ship crap ~~ here it is for you ,, I'm not the fucking Captain ,, I'm the Science Officer ,, this is not a ship ,, this is a fucking space station ,, and I don't work for you ,, I FUCKING WORK FOR YOUR FATHER ,, BIG DIFFERENCE HERE."

    My face turning bright red ,, while yelling at you ,, and then my eyes follow yours ,, watching you rush to the downed body ,, what the ~ ~ ~ You pick the extinguisher ,, and shake it ,, aiming it at me ,, and you throw in your threat. For real now ?? I just gaze at you ,, my hands on my hips ,, another distant explosion ,, and I just clench my teeth. My 5'10" 130lbs body could not look anymore intimidating. I'm not only taller and heavier ,, but I'm in a way better shape than you too. And I make a point flexing my shoulders and arms ,, and tensing my abs to show you the little six~pack I got going there

    But right now ,, you're the one with a weapon aimed at me,, if you even know how to use it. I glance down and then smile sarcastically ~ "Cool story bitch. Be my guest ,, but before you do that ,, why don't you take the safety pin off first ??" ~ and I wait for your eyes to glance down ,, they always do ,, to stare down at the black brace and try to find the safety pin that's actually no longer there ,, my 38" right leg swings wildly and plows my boot into your left and and the fire extinguisher ,, trying to knock it out of your grip!  



Mish:  Chain of command, moron, I think, listening as you cowardly explain how you're the science officer and not going down with the ship, blah, blah, blah.  Even had I pointed out that when the Captain and your superiors died, YOU became captain, it wouldn't have mattered.  You're a fucking coward and would use any  justification or rationalization to avoid assuming responsibility.  So typical...  I aim the hydrant, well, whatever it is, at you, knowing its contents are not water---it's acidic, because the fires likely to break out on this floating asylum would probably be basic.  Or something---I recalled some shit like that from the pre-flight safety RVD (retinal video disc).  And then I hesitate---just for a split second.  The pin?  Would we have already pulled the pin...?

    I glance down and your gargantuan leg kicks out, your boot slamming into my wrist.  My hand opens and the tank drops, missing my cute zebra-pained nails by millimeters.  I curse the universe, then curse my own stupidity, and then curse technology which has been able to place us hundreds of light years from Earth, but still hasn't advanced the design of a fucking fire extinguisher in 150 years.  I look at you, your massive body, ripped abs, muscled soulders and arms---taking you in.  Yeah, you're bigger, maybe spend more time at the gym or whatever...but I'm no slouch.  Kickboxing since I was six, and knocking the shit out of the girls (and boys) of the white trash servants' kids who lived in the quarters on the estate---I could certianly take care of myself---and you fucking Jolly Green Egghead.  

    I eye the extinguisher, knowing that I will not have enough time to scoop it up, aim it, and squeeze it before you're on top of me.  But... in one fluid motion, I bend, scoop it up---sensing you start to move...and fucking hurl it at your knees, hoping to the metal on bone impact fells you like a fucking Redwood.  



Emily:  I knock the extinguisher out of your grip in one motion, and the look you give me is priceless. Like all genetically enhanced princesses, you sure took a laser scalpel to every bone on your face to sculpt it to your idea of perfection. Which ultimately resulted in you looking like some dumped down Disney princess. What was her name? The one with the Dwarves? The dumbass who bit the apple given to her by a scary looking stranger?  Yeah ,, you fit the role ,, because you're as dumb. Your eyes move to the extinguisher, then me, and I just keep my firm stance, giving you the ~ do i need to prove my point anymore ~ look.

    But surely ,, you make it obvious that I ~indeed~ need to prove it again ,, and again !! You dive for the extinguisher and I move forwards to you ,, bringing my right boot up and trying to swing it to smack it again out of your grip, but you're not trying to hold it, you grab it and launch it and ~ "AWWWWW!!!" It fucking smacks me right above my left knee ,, straight into my tensed thigh muscle and I crash down ,, my left knee hitting the floor ~ "You Rich Bitch!!!" I cry out in pain ,, my right boot firmly planted on the floor ahead of my body ,, and I see you trying to scoot away ,, no doubt to make it to the escape pod.

    But ,, my knee is right there ,, and so is your hair ,, and my arms happen to be pretty much in the vicinity ,, to reach up snatch your hair by the sides of your head ,, and before you can pull your head up from your bent position I ~YANK~ you down and send your pretty face into my pre~propped right knee! Let's hear how fucking dull that impact sounds ,, you empty headed bimbo!!



Mish:  My brilliance astounds me, as the tank sails right into you and you come crashing down, damaged knee slamming into the cold metal floor, hopefully doing even more damage.  "You rich bitch!" echos in my ears---jesus, how many times have I heard that in my life?  Hmmm, probably the exact same number of times I have beaten down skanks trying to prove they're better than me.  Yeah, in fact, I think it's the EXACT same number of times!  You're down for the count, I'm hoping,and it's time for me exit.  I start to scramble by you, bare feet slipping on the cold, debris-covered metallic floor.  The escape pod---the one that actually can escape, a mere 15 or so feet away.  

    As I start to gain traction, I feel your giant paws grab my hair from the sides of my head, whipping my head to the side and then straight down into your bent knee.  My forehead meets your knee cap, and the jolt smacks my head up, but not too much---your grip on my hair makes my head somewhat unyielding, and I absorb the blow more than I normally would---you know, you really do see stars sometimes with a blow to the head --- I drop to my knees and my head and face slide down your raised thighs as my body drops to the floor, my head briefly landing and resting on your hip.  

    Fighting the urge simply to curl up and cradlemy head like a weak princess-type bitch, I clasp my hands together, and since yours are still lcoked in my hair and cannot do much to defend, spear them up and at you, hoping to ram all ten knuckles under your chin, knock your head back,  and give you a nice taste of your own bloody tongue.  



Emily:  What a slimey ,, dirty ,, conniving bitch !!! You're fucking determined to make it out of here. But come on ,, who am I to fucking judge you for that ?? It's survival ,, and it's always a matter of the fittest. And as hitory and evolution showed ,, it's not always about who's stronger or bigger ,, or two Dinosaurs would have been having this same battle in our stead right now. Brains and smarts are what matter the most, and while I drive your computer into my knee, pulling hard on the hair to stop your head from whiplashing, wanting you to take the full force and rattle of it ,, I let go of you to let you slump down ~

    "That's right you fucking bi---ACCKKK!!" My words cut ,, with the rising meteor that is your joined fists. Small but deadly, and it's only my good fortune that the i and the t are  letters that require your tongue rolled up in your mouth, or my teeth would have probably chomped it off !! But my lips are not that lucky and I end up biting my own bottom lip hard ,, tasting copper and seeing red droplets floating up above my head ,, my body jolting back. and I start to fall.

    But even when my back impacts the harsh floor ,, my fingers refuse to let go of your head, dragging you down with me and letting your head slide on my right thigh, while my left leg tosses up and under your right armpit, trying to keep my legs straight and lock you in a neck~crucher ,, a position if locked properly ,, should apply enough force on the left side of your neck to bend your head into a sleeper in under half a minute ~ ~ ~ but in this fucking madness ,, that sounds like a prettty long time ~



Mish:  I feel a surge as my locked hands plow into your chin, rocking your head back, and then your body following.  But goddammnit, "Let go of my fucking hair!"  as you pull me down with you, I feel the vibration as your spine hits the metal floor, my won head landing on the cushion that is your right thigh.  My cheek presses against the creamy, smooth skin of your inner though, your shorts riding up, and I note the jarring contrast of the tiny scarlet circle on your fleshy palette---Even laying on you, I smirk, knowing I drew first blood.  As I entertain various vapid scenarios in an instant's time, your left leg slides up and wedges under my arm pit, and I feel your legs straighten---FUCK, I knw what's coming, and I can't let this happen!  

    Relying on my nagic fingers---or at least I hope they are, I slide them on to your thighs, one hand on the inside of each---I know you're expecting me to try and hold your legs apart, try and prevent them from locking at the ankle...I feel them start to squeeze, your fight aligning for the lock...and I press my fingers into your thighs, finger tips first, the pressure alone of my fingers jamming into your soft inner thigh, digging into muscle, is hopefully enough to keep those legs apart, and, moreover, maybe even get them movng apart.  But I need more...  

    Adjusting my fingers slightly, recalling the snide comments you had made to our dearly-departed comrades about my painted nails when we first took off, thinking I hadn't heard, I angle my fingers so that nail bites into your flesh, your inner thighs my cratching post, and I sink in for the duration, feeling tiny pieces of soft flesh tear under my nails as I push and squeeze...  



Emily:  The fucking guninea pig drew first blood. I'm fucking livid at that fact alone. My tongue darting out to lick the coppery taste off my lips ,, while my powerful thighs lock in in the sleeper hold and I begin to squeeze ~ "I'll fucking send regards to your daddy ,, Michelle ,, I'll tell him his daughter died just as she lived ,, a fucking cxnt!!" ~ I can't even believe my words ,, when an explosion rocks the station ,, the lights flickering ,, and the words come through the station's PA system ~ Warning :: Fire in Life Support Module ,, Oxygen generation disrupted.

    And even though that in itself is not the worst of threats ,, knowing that the Oxygen in this room alone ,, even with the struggle and both of us gulping it would last us way longer than the imminent explosion ,, the cold dry words sends a chill reminder to both of us that we need to fucking hurry up before we are both engulfed in a glorious ,, albeit mute ball of hellfire. I squeeze tighter with my thighs ,, and then I feel your nails ,, those pesky ,, gross ,, disgusting little things just dig into my flesh, wiggling in between the tensed muscles and you clamp your fingers into a tight ~claw~ on each thigh ~ "AAWWWW!!"

    My head jolting back in pain ,, eyes shut ,, trying to control myself. Shaking  my head right and left but the pain is just too fucking sharp,, so I quickly open my left leg pulling it to me ,, my left hand releasing your hair just to grab your clawing right wrist ,, holding it tight ,, while I pull my leg back to my chest then ~THRUST~ it outwards ,, driving the sole of my boot as hard as I can between your perky boobies ,, in a Stomp//kick//shove ,, to slide your body away from me along the metal floor.



Mish:  As I start to dig my nails into you, ths station rocks, and an automated announcement sounds, with an alarm...something about a fire in life support, disrupting oxygen...  OK, I'm not a scientist, but those particular words, in that particular order---it doesn't sound good!  I just need to get beyond this catting with you, knock you out, and get the fuck off this soon-to-be-Roman Candle.  My nails tear into you, your cry of pain excites me, and the feel of even more blood---the warm, sticky feel as those painted claws rend into you, empowers me.  "You won't be saying anything to my daddy, slut,"  my grip digs deeper, tearing more flesh, "but I'll remind yours that all his sacrifice was for shit, cuz his daughter turned into a fucking cinder!"  

    As the pain becomes more than you can bear, you release your grip on my hair, but pull me in by my wrist and paunch your booted foot at my chest, slamming me between the breasts, the stomp not only knocking wind out of me, but sliding me away from you across the icy metal floor.  Gasping, fighting for air, trying to gulp in what I can, the severity of your kick brings home the magnitude of what we're doing.  One of us will die here.  whether by the other's hand directly or not.  It's irrelevant.  For me to live, you must die.  No.  You will die.  

    My chest, feeling as it boulders had rolled over it, guttural sounds being firced from me as I try to suck in air...I know, going toe-to-toe with you, I can't---you're way to big.  I need to fght smarter, quicker...  I see you start to move, and I roll to all fours, a little breath coming in now.  I scramble to the control pad on the wall---Smoke, sparks randomly being belched from much of the equipment.  Eelctic and communication cables hanging from the ceiling---some of them live, sparking, arcing, doing a deadly dance on the floor... I snake thoruhg them, careful about which ones I brush against...

    Arriving at the panel I ad seen my colleagues play with the most---every time we we'd start to feel a change in the artifical gravity, this was where they went, fiddled with this, dialed that back...pressed this.  I wrap my arm around what i'm pretty sure is a communciation cable, and slam my hand down on the console, hoping that I've hit the right ones, so wanting your ripped, muscled body to float up to the ceiling as I knock out the gravity for a few seconds, while I anchor myself with this cable and maybe, hopefully, scramble into the pod.  



Emily:  My boot drills so deliciously into your chest. Flattening those no~doubt enhanced bags of yours. Genetically enhanced of course ,, we're not in the dark ages anymore where they would so barbarically stuff bags of gel, water, and sand inside our chests. Brrr!! Those were dark times indeed. No ,, everything is done in a way to adjust the body naturally to it ,, and ads for Boobs~in~a~pill and Butt~serums are all over the space port when were about to embark on this O'blessed journey. But alas ,, gifts of nature or a pharmaceutical company they will hurt all the same under my boot that practically sends you barreling across the floor like tumbleweed.

I sit up ,, or try to ,, seeting ,, my eyes flared open ,, my cheeks bright red. Starting to get the pigmentation of a beet ,, while your words echoed through my mind while I gazed quietly at my bleeding thighs I watch the blood seep quietly through the tiny cuts ,, my mind replaying your words ~ I'll remind yours that all his sacrifice was for shit, cuz his daughter turned into a fucking cinder. She dared to mention my parents. She mocked them ,, and their sacrifice. A waste of breath indeed ,, that's all you are ,, and I'm going to make the Universe a much better place ,, one way or another.

My eyes dart up and I see you at the busted control panel ,, wedging your hands into it ,, is she trying to electrocute herself ?? And wait ?? How is she up on her feet so quickly?? Before I can even rise up ,, I see your arm yanking out the red and blue cables ,, and few sparks fly ,, my eyes bulging in shock ,, and the same sad voice on the speakers go ~ Warning ,, artificial gravity malfunction in emergency moduel. Rebooting. Fail. Rebooting. Fail. Rebooting. Fail. ~ And I'm not concerned with the mechanical voice going into the loop as much as I at my butt and feet rising up from the floor.

And I see you swinging yourself with the cabel and sending your body floating towards the pod. Crafty little bitch!!! My eyes widen and I turn my body ,, but floating in zero~G is not like swimming ,, air'd density is not as much as water ,, and unlike many movies show ,, you can't flap your arms and fly ,, unless you want to do it at snail speed. I just manage to barely ~tap~ the floor with my boots ,, extending my calves and sending myself floating up to the closest solid surface ,, the ceiling.

My eyes following you intently ,, watching you float to halfway the way to the pod ,, not more than 20 feet now ,, and I curl my body into a ball ,, flipping myself and letting my boots touch the ceiling ,, angling myself and then thrusting with my legs ,, sending myself flying like a torpedo towards you ,, swinging my arms stright forwards ,, my fists joined ,, like Supergirl ,, to drive my fists right into the middle of your back!



Mish:  We're floating---fucking floating---and the only thinkg I can think of in this fucking surrealistic deathmatch is that old RVD I watched---Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, as they drink the forbidden soda and float to the ceiling, but then can't stop themselves and approach the ceiling fan...  classic...  I pivot and swing on the cable, giving myself momentum towards the pod, while you, you're just going straight up.  "Have a nice flight, bitch!" I taunt, then eyeing the pod's open door, glance back at you and add, "I know I will..."  Silently wishing for a ceiling fan...  

    But as the words leave my mouth, I see you ball your body up as you approach the ceiling...But I have more important things to focus on...I need to straighten my trajectory before, well, I know it coming...this won't forever.  We're not going ot need to burp...it's just temporary, and although I'm heading in the general vicinity of the pod, I'm not heading directly to it.  And how the hell do you turn, floating in zero-G?  I sway my arms a bit, which does nothing.  I cast a glance bacj=k, and see you kicking off from the ceiling and barrelling at me, fists clamped together.  "holy fuck.." I mouth, more to myself than to anyone else, and i start to wildly flail my arms and legs, trying either to get out of your way, or...

    Rebooting.  Fail...Rebooting...Rebooting....Rebooting....and then, a hum.  The lights come in a little brighter, and a new voice alert comes on line,,,Resumption of Artifical Gravity in 5....4.....3....  

    I look around wildly, ---where the hell's that cable???  Nothing---nothing in reach, and here you come, screaming at me...2...  I brace myself, unable to turn my body, aboudt to be drilled by you in my back...1....and I do what I do by instinct---hands out and down, legs bent and down, and...ARTIFICIAL GRAVITY RESTORED.  I fall back to the deck, landing on hand and feet, cat-like.  Voila!  



Emily:  Such a rush !! I've always wanted to do that. Well ,, I have ,, once back in the Academy when we were getting our Zero-G trainnings in the simulator. Everyone fooled around ,, we even had that nerdy kid ,, Brad ,, who tied a towel around his neck and tried his best immitation of the Man of Steel. Only to end up with us getting a 15 minute lecture explainning why his make~shift cape was not flapping around ,, and was rather slowly creeping up until it covered his face and he went in ,, head first ,, into Antonia's crotch. Again ,, the reason for the whole lecture // accident ~

    And right now ,, I'm noticing it when I'm feeling my blonde pony tail curling around and starting to arch towards you. What was it they said ?? that such low speeds the air resistance does not factor as much as mass ?? Something like that ,, yeah must be it. But who cares ,, I'm going to go fists first into that bitch's kidneys ,, when the automated voice allerts us both to what's about to happen. And my eyes widen. No ,, No no no no NOOO!! The countdown rolling down.

    Five... My arms retracting and I glance down at the floor ,, I'm 3 feet high.

    Four ~~  My legs flail ,, but they are unable to touch the floor yet.

    Three ~ I decide to bend my arms a bit ,, unlocking my fists ,, palms open.

    Two ~ I glance up at you ,, FUCK we are close ,, are we going to collide ??

    One ~ I pull my legs up more ,, bending my knees ,, arms open outwards ,, and PFFWOOOOOPP!! Gravity just pulls us both down ,, and I land at the tips of my boots ,, the momentum still carrying me forwards ,, I'm just three feet from you ,, and I just curl my body into a ball ,, letting the momentum carry me into a forwards roll

    Your body perched on all fours like a cat ,, or more realistically ,, like a dog waiting to be taken from behind. I'm pretty sure you're staring in amazement at my athletic ability ,, but whether you are looking or not ,, my boots are slapping on the metal floor ,, my back lifting off the friggin' freezing floor and I thrust my body forwards at you ,, my arms tossing around you ,, trying to let my momentum take you with me and send us in a heap down to the floor ,, trying to wrestle my way behind you




Mish:  So proud of my landing, a little rough, of course, falling from about 6 feet, but still, I stuck the landing!  But as I went down, I saw you do the most wondrous things with your body---twisting, floating, flying, like anti-grav gymnastics...but, you're getting perilously close to me---come on program, kick the fuck in!  As I land on hands and feet, you come down close---too, boots hitting the fllor, body lunging at mine.  I feel your arms start to wrap around me from behind, and I fall forward, chest sliding on the floor, your larger body atop mine, pushing from behind.  I feel your hands try to grab me, stop me from getting into the pod.  

    I stop flailing, and try to turn my body over, to lay on my back, facing you, wanting to kick you away, bracing myself on my hands, coiling in, and then exploding back, trying to slam both bare soles into your chest to knock you back and give me some room.  



Emily:  "HUnnngghhh!!!" I crash into you hard ,, and ok ,, the impact is harder than I thought it would be. Your body is more solid than expected ,, and the momentum sends us rolling few times ,, while you twist and wiggle. But at the very least ,, my plan works ,, and the motion takes us ~away~ from the pod. The bad news ,, you manage to turn and face me ,, and I feel your arms pushing at my shoulders back ,, just as I steady the rolling in an attempto pin you. My legs spreadin ,, trying to straddle your thighs ,, then move them into a grapevine ,, but your legs are no longer there

    And I feel your boots pressing against my chest ,, grinding my chest back ~ "AWWWHHH!!!" ~ Eyes shutting and you just thrust me backwards ,, sending me flying off you and crashing my back to one of the consoles. Denting the metal door ,, and sending it off the hinges ,, sliding behind me to the floor and exposing a mess of wires and cables.



Mish:  You try to spread my legs, cold palms on my thighs, centering yourself, prepping for what looks to be a straddle.  Your size, straddling me, will overwhelm me.  Balling my legs in and kicking out, pushes you back.  No---it HURLS you back, not sure if you actually leave the floor completely, but your body goes flying and your bac and neck slam into one of the damaged consoles.  Crashing heard more sparks expliding, steam being vented by a damaged hose.  Depite the cold of space, the damaged pipe is kicking up a semi-cloud of steam floating, staying low to the floor.  I wath as your body slides to  stop and slumps on the floor..  I try and guage your damage---I'm a littlr further from the pos now---can I mke it there without you intefering?  And I think---no.  I still need you weaker.  

    I crawl forard quickly, grabbing the narrow part of the steam pipe, and dropping it after only a few second, its heat on my fingers searing.  Looking around, in a hurry, seeing nothing that will help, I slip off my t-shirt, and wrapping it around my hands, triple covering my palms, I pick up the pipeagain, this time, able to handle it for a bit of time.  I point it at you, knowing that while the steam pouring out while not hurt or burn you, the steam itself may equalize us. I focus on aiming it at you, the mist swirling around, immediately condensing onnthe cold floor, making my mody slick, the heat energizing me, not sure of the effect it will have on you---shock?  mild burn? Enflame?  we'll see...



Emily:  I hit the metal board below the console ,, and cry out in pain ,, my back hurting like fuck ,, but it's my skul that ~thunks~ against the edge of the console itself that knocks me down. I lay on my side, breathing hard. Moaning. I can hear the sparks crackling behind me ,, and the hiss of the steam leaking from the broken pipe. My eyes fluttering in this semi~dazed state ,, trying to find you. I immediately fixate my gaze at the pod ,, expecting to see you crawling there ,, flipping me a middle finger and jettisoning yourself out of the station to leave me to a certain death ,, with a one final throught about life ,, one of it's inexplicible mysteries ,, why don't the motherfuckers die.

    But my gaze sees nothing. Nothing at all ,, and then I hear the movement from the other side and I turn gasping and realizing where you are ,,  inches from me reaching and grabbing something then yelping and pulling your hand back. Could she ?? No. She's not that crazy ,, but you quickly pull off your top ,, and wrap it around your hands ,, and my eyes flutter ,, pushing hard on my right elbow trying to sit up and face you ,, when you turn up to me and my vision is lost in a haze of WHITE HOT steam !!

    ~ "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!" I cry out in agony ,, getting that sensation when your finger accidentally taps the edge of a hot tea pot. But instead of a finger, it's the left side of my face ,, shoulder, chest, and tummy. I immediately collapse to my right, my left arm reaching up to protectively cover my face. Screeching and flailing ,, but in doing so ~ even after the significant damage to my face ~ I'm also turning myself blind to your whereabouts , something I find out when I kick wildly with my left leg ,, trying to nail your chest with my left boot ,, but I hit thin air

    And it dawns on me ,, you moved ,, and now the only way for me to know where you are is the direction of the next gust of steam ,, My legs starting to just flail wildly ,, the left side of my body starting to turn red ,, my eyes watering wildly ,, I'm not even sure if I'm blinded premanently or not ,, but temporarily for certain.



Mish:  I hear your soul-searing scream as the steam engulfs you, and I get a twinge---a tiny, miniscule part of me feels microscopically bad---but I can deal with it, bitch!!  Weaken you---that's my goal---I just need the time and distance to get in the pod and secure the lock.  Once I'm in, you can pound and punch and threaten all you want---I'm, you're out---I'll live, and you, well...you won't.  I see the steam swirl where your leg kicks out, thinking that's where I am.  Excellent!  I glance over my shoulder, trying to adjudge the distance to the pod---12 feet maybe, and a weakened slut about 3 feet in front of me.  

    I adjust my shirt again,   pick up the pipe---each time I can hold it for less and less time, and simultaneously toss it and spin it, hoping its random movements will confuse you, and let me finish you off.  The steam spurts out, circling us, clouds spreading, and I lunge, sliding my body atop yours, my slick chest gliding over your abs, being halted by the fabric of your bra.  My hands reach out and while my right hand finds purchase in your hair, pulling it back nd down, trying to pin your head to the floor by your hair, my left hand slides up your chest, to your throat, and clamps down, hoping to narrow you airway enough to KO you.  That will give me the time I need to grab my supplies and secure my place in the pod.  "A cinder , bitch..that's all you'll be..."



Emily:  I'm burning. That's how I feel right now. It's Hell. This is by all means a far worse pain than I would feel when the station blows. An explosion in the fusion core would incinerate me completely and wholly in a micro second. Pain signals would not reach my brain to start with. And yet. you seem determined to give me that kind of hell even before you leave me to face my certain doom. My left side is just pulsating with pain. My skin red ,, but that in itself tells me that I'm not completely burnt. The fact that I can feel pain means that my skin was just exposed to the severe heat.

    But the pain ~is~ what matters. The blindness in my eyes that feel that you've melted them in the sockets and the wild thrashing is all that remain ,, even with my legs hitting nothing but air ,, hot steamy air ,, and after what seems like forever ,, the gust of white steam stops and I lay on my side ,, sobbing. my face buried into my forearms ,, and then ~"UUFF!!!" Your body crashes atop of me , and you move for a straddle ,, yanking my head back and ~ "uuugghhH!!" you start to choke and throttle me. The pain in my left side spiking with your thigh straddling it ,, and right now ,, it's all I can feel ,, even with your fingers squeezing my windpipe.

    But yet ,, my hands grab your left wrist and I tug on it hard. I fight. I don't know why. I'm still fighting despite it all. Why ?? I'm a goner. I'm too hurt ,, I just want to pass out for all this pain to end. But I see them. Their faces pressed together and giving me that loving look ,, that says everything will be ok ,, as my escape pod drifted away. I'm going to be ok. Yes. I will.. For them. For them I fight. And I slowly open my eyes ,, everything is hazy ,, spotted ,, I see nothing but shadows of black swimming in a sea of white. And then ,, colors ,, colors sparking to the left.

    My face turning red ,, despite my strength ,, I'm greatly weakened now ,, and you are winning with each moment your choke lasts. And my eyes widen a bit with the lack of air ,, that brings some clarity to my vision. Not all ,, just some ,, and I see them. The cables stuck from the open console ,, that you yanked the pipe out of. And I reach with both hands. Leaving your hand to just squeezeee my throat tighter ,, and I grasp two of the exposed cables. I can't tell the colors precisely ,, everything is melded I need them to be of different colors ,, but I can't even tell. But I will find in a moment, when I bring them up infront of your face and I touch the exposed ends together ,, hoping the shower of sparks flaring would catch your face and eyes and stun you.



Mish:  I feel your body growing weaker with each passing second, my grip holding true on your throat, gurgling, sputtering noises coming from you, although at times they're tough to distinguish from the hissing and spitting of the damaged cables and pipes surrounding us.  Your hands leave mine, the pawing ending, and I take that as a sign that your will, perhaps, has been broken, and you're about curl up (figuratively) and go to sleep.  But in a moment, they return, grasping two cables---she's going to electrocute me? You push them in front of my face, and I try to back away---I know it, you're going to touch one to each side of my face and fry my brain!  

    Rearing back, still stretching my arms to mantain the choke, I watch as the cables dance in front me, and...you touch tem together!  A cavalcade of sparks erupts in front of me---welding-hot white, and I insitcitively close my eyes., but the heat is intense!  For me certainly, but for you? I can't take it!  I release your neck and shield my face with my left hand, balling my right into a fist, I hammer straight down, returning the favor from before, trying to ram my fist into your solar plexus and strip away your brief flight into offense,  



Emily:  I can hear the voices in my head. The hoarse ,, thick voices of the reapers. They are pounding on every closed door of my mind ,, my sanity ,, and my consciousness. Invading ,, looting ,, and sacking my will power along with my desire to even belong to this realm. And I feel like whatever is left of me is cornered in that one small room. With a frail wooden door hanging on crickety hinges. The pounding intensifying ,, the voices demanding access rising. As scary as they are ,, they have some kind of finality to them ,, which is strangely and beautifully soothing.

    But whoever is left in that room is trying to ignore them. The voices ,, the rattlnig of a door that is moments from collapsing ,, even the smell of my own singed sking filling my mind with sickening thoughts thinking that is the smell of ~my~ flesh. My hands touch the cables and I ~scratch~ the ends together with a quick flicking motion ,, the same you would use to light up a match and trying to send the sparks towards your face ,, your eyes ,, anything to blind and distract you just like you did to me. And I hear the shrill cry ,, I got her !! Did I get her ?? I did! I did fucking get her !!

    But amidst my celebrations of a small ,, yet significant victory ,, my chance for a comeback ,, I feel the fist plowing hard into my solar plexus. The fist striking hard and true. And with your position it feels like a cannon shot ,, exploding into my chest and sending a jolt through my body ,, my legs kicking up ,, my lungs contracting and freezing ,, a gasp held in them ,, and my hands ,, my hands that were holding the cables lost them and the cables curl back and touch my wrists ,, sending a violent jolt of electricity through me ,, that makes me scream and shudder with enough force to just fling you off me ,, crashing to my side ,, my body still twitching and kicking.




Mish:  The white-hot searing light arcs as you press the cables together, and even with my eyes closed, it's as if the light penetrates through to my pupils nonetheless, burning my optic nerve.  Blinded, hopefully temporariy, I release your throat and using  location memory alone, slam my fist down on to where I thought you may have been!    The echoing thud, the familiar feel of breast bone under fist, tells me my aim aas true, even sightless.  Your feet kick up, and the light dissipates, no longer brightening my field of vision.  As I start to open my eyes,  THWACK, WHAM!!  I feel a jolt in my body---someone may have hit me.  and then---I am propelled off you, landing in a heap a feet away.  

    I hear you scream as I am propelled, and landing, turn my head to you, seeing the cables swinging where your wrists were.  Your body a twitching mass, drool seeping out, and, while I'm not going to check, you may have soiled yourself.  My won body shaking, I trembly get to hands and knnes, and, eyeing a non-sparking hanging cable, pull myself up to my feet.  Seeing your foot still twitching, knowing you're alive, I  stumble to the side, grab my blaknet, my seared t-shirt, and the container of rations and water, and make my way to the last 10 feet toward the pod.  Glancing over my shoulder, I see you still laying there, and I'm pretty sure I have clear passage.  



Emily:  I lay there ,, a moan escaping my lips ,, a gutteral ,, deep groan. I'm laying on my right side. Facing you ,, facing the capsule ,, and facing the smoke seeping through the hallway. I can see the flames dancing in the distance. And the black cloud slowly creeping from the top. I watch you walking around ,, picking up the blanket, the shirt sliding it back over your sweaty naked body. The boxes of rations and water that you stuff in the capsule. That for some reason ,, look too spacious now. It could have probably fit us both. You're not that big. We wouldn't have been comfortable ,, sure ,, and you would have sat on my lap the entire journey. But it's better than certain death.

     And then it hits me ,, that I can't hear a thing. I see everything ,, but ,, my ears are filled with a low hummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Gawd. Did I have to lose my hearing ,, but not my sense of pain or even smell?? I can smell my searing flesh ,, filling my skull and turning my stomach. Coughing, I roll to my tummy and see you turn, giving me a last ,, curious look. And I reach up ,, starting to claw the floor and drag my body towards the capsule. But at a pace that would land in the third place agains a turtle and a snail. But ,, I must . . . Keep . . . fighting . . . My legs limp behind me,, the twitching gone ,, and with it all muscle control

     And I have nothing but my arms ,, weak and throbbing ,, the muscles still flexed from the electric jolt that rushed through my body. Fumes rising from the ends of my burned blonde hair. Some strands scorched completely from the effect of the steam pipe and the electric jolt. And I see you enter the capsule. I keep dragging myself. Watching you fumble with the controls. Taking your time ,, either that ,, or you're simply too stupid to operate it. And I reach the shut glass door ,, pressing my hands against it ,, and my face ,, watching your face light up with a wicked smile ,, and hit a button and then . . .

     I see it all in reverse ,, every bit of it . . . I see the emergency pod slowly slide back and detach from the side of the ship ,, exiting the chute. But that's the only detail in place. I'm not on the right side this time. The passenger is not a scared crying child ,, she's a grinning vicious BITCH. And instead of the faces of smiling loving parents content with their life-giving sacrifice ,, there is the bitter ,, furious scowl of their daughter.



Mish:  My body still weak from the shock, I drag the rations the last few feet to the pod, every few seconds turning my head, watching you, knowing that it's not over until, well, you're a cinder...  One leg in the pod, I heave the rations in, seciring them in the compartment, and then do the same with the water, clamping it in, leaving  just enough space---barely enough space, for a tiny body like mine.  Truly, had you won---there's no way you could have fit yourself plus rations in the pod, and ultimately, they'd find you floating---an emaciated 'survivor.'    At least I will live to tell the story---the story of how I tried to save the crew from the murderous blonde...  

    I wedge my body in, seeing you dragging yourself closer..this is like a bad movie---I half-expect to turn this pod on, and have the engine stall as you start to bang on the window...  I try not to look up---I don;t want to see you---just fucking lay down, bitch, I think.  But then I think of what you did, what you said, your insolnce to me and my daddy...and I look up at you, your face, wordless plea to spare you---and I fucking smirk.  Pressing the code, the engine roars to life, clamps release, air seal locks, and I watch your face get smaller and smaller as the pod ejects and then fires its engines, the station growing smaller, red warning lights on the exterior flashing but getting fainter and fainter as my velocity increases my hand on the control for light speed.

    I glance back,watching the station begin to glow, and then, a slight ripple. followed by a cataclysmic explosion---a cascade of red, blue and purple waves and pulses of light and energy, emanating from the midline and bursting outward, followed by a bright white wave, one thatseems to cut the explosion in half and emanate out in all directions---the one I need to stay away from...I clutch the handle and ease it forward, creating the warp bubble, and peoplelling the pod to light speed, seconds away from the the energy wave, and a small, floating cinder.

 ~End Transmission~

[Stephanie Gibson v2.0]

OMG OMG OMG!!!  I love every bit of this!!!!  ~*M*~ it's so great to see you back!!!  And Mish, you and I have plans that we must put into action!!

[Ewa S]

OMG!!! YES!!! THANK YOU!!! <3

[Rebecca P]

Fantastic.  Amazing.  You're both wonderful!!

[Kim19]

Wow, two of my favorite people, so amazing, creative, brilliant, you are both awwesome

[lilfightingcutie2]

O M F G!!!!!!! what an amazing match!!! I just love the storyline and omg Mish and M you were both amazing!!!! congrats on ya win Mish!!!! From everything ive heard bout M she's way tough and after reading this fight i can see its all true! you both are just incredible writers, amazing fighters and so super hawt!! thank ya both so much for sharing ya match with us!!! just WOW

[RedEnforcer]

I have to admit, this was very imaginative and creative. Well done.

[WindyRules]

The two best ever! And possibly my first two matches here! Emily was my introduction to battle, and Mish has expressed interest in doing damage to my features. All in fun, I'm sure!

[~*M*~]

Thank you all for the sweet remarks ,, this one certainly holds a special place for me ~ ~ ~ For starters my partner in it is one of the absolute best ,, and all~time favorites in and outside of fighting ,, but it also signifies a unique scene on so many levels.

~ The story telling of a sci~fi tragedy was definitely one of the most remarkable things. Michelle did stun me by the amount of research and detail she went in from her opening post ,, and that made my job even more challenging in playing catch~up with her.

~ The fighting might seem scarce for most ,, and the fight could be perceived by many as short. There was some very gruesome use of external items ,, the coolant hose and artificial gravity malfunctions; but all that helped portray the ~realism~ needed to ground such a sci~fi scene. If you are fighting for survival ,, it won't be dragged out. Grim ,, dark choices have to be made ,, and yes ,, things will get ugly.

~ The ending was definitely one of the best part. Michelle arguably played the antagonist in this one ,, and she won. She survived ,, which is a stark contrast to what every Disney movie taught us ~ ~ And that's good ,, because screw that happy ending crap !! ~

All in all ,, I am really proud of this one ,, and can't wait for some free time to come up to get at it again with Michelle x

~*M*~

[Wrestlerjunkee]

This was simply amazing!  Thank you both for sharing this!  This one is worth reading and re-reading!

[LilMishyRocks]

I am SO glad Emily posted this match---I had forgotten how much FUN it was---but then again, any match with Emily is always a blast!!

Thanks for all the kind words, everyone.    And Em---I think we still have a Christmas score to settle.