Basement

“It’s time to foment some trouble!” Astrid growled. She slammed down hard on the breaks of her ‘67 Mustang as she pulled into her driveway, without a pause she was at the front steps of her house unlocking the door.

“Astrid don’t overreact, he is just a pompous jerk trying to goad you into doing something foolish,” her friend Carmen said.

“He is has no idea who he is messing with” Astrid snarled as she flipped the light switch leading into her basement.

Carmen followed feeling exasperated. In college Astrid had always been a little hot headed, jumping to conclusions, getting into fights. Carmen didn’t expect anything to really come of her frustration this time, except that maybe Carmen’s punching bag would end up with a few lumps.

At the bottom of the stairs Carmen froze. She blinked for a second and then looked strangely at Astrid. “What is this?”

“My basement,” she replied as she went to the foot locker on the south facing wall. Opening it she pulled out hand wraps and started to carefully cover her hands.

“Astrid. . . .You know. . . normal people don’t have a basement full of weapons.” Carmen half whispered in a husky voice.

Astrid paused for a second, then shrugged. “Their loss.” she finished taping her hands and then sized up her collection. Each wall housed a major category: hand-to-hand, distance, blades, and guns.

She grabbed the kukri off the wall.

“Time to hunt”

Motivation

“If we get arrested it’s your fault.” Carrie hissed at her friend.

“We aren’t going to get arrested,” Kim quietly, almost robotically replied as her fingers flew over the keys.

“You say that, but I have a presentiment about this.” Carrie whispered as her fingers absent-mindedly played with her long blond braid.

Silence reigned for heart pounding seconds as Kim used her pad to hack into the Weyland cargo holding facility. The two of them had planned this raid for months. No one would chance breaking into a Weyland facility without ample preparation, but more importantly without motivation.

Kim and Carrie had enough motivation to storm the main office building followed by NBN and every social media reporter on their heels. Weyland had stolen Kim’s daughter. It had been a year ago, at night, from a children’s hospital.

The high pitched buzz of a plasma pistol priming broke the silence and both Kim and Carrie’s shoulders slumped.

Standing behind them was a tall bioroid security guard with his sidearm primed but not directly pointed at the two women.  

Carrie gave her friend a severe glare for the briefest moment before she composed her face and addressed the bioroid in an innocent and sweet voice, “can I help you?”

“No,” his gruff masculine voice replied. With a faint smile he continued, “but I can help you.” With that he raised his pistol and fired.

The lock was melted into slag.

Nebula

“Sir, These reading don’t make sense,” ensign Gavarty prompted. She double checked the figures that popped up on her heads up display.

“Elaborate ensign,” said science officer Bashir.

“We are currently 5,000 kilometers deep in the earth's crust and I’m picking up the readings for a class H II nebula.” Gavarty spoke as she typed, “It’s impossible. We should be moving in a liquid of Iron and Nickle. To have reading of a gaseous state seems false.”

“Hanson, do you have a report from engineering? Are all of our sensors working?” Bashir snapped.

Ensign Hanson flinched as if he had been slapped, “Engineering hasn’t reported any irregularities, all sensors are working according to the diagnostics.”

“We might have to risk getting a visual on this anomaly.” Bashir mused.

“But sir the pressure,” Hanson started.

“It’s worth the risk of losing an external camera to not put our crew in danger.” Bashir interrupted. Turning towards Gavarty he ordered, “Bring up the external cameras.”

Within a few moments the forward view screen was filled with an unearthly sight. There were roiling clouds of golden yellow that folded into a darkening center of oranges and reds. It was mesmerizing.

“By all my Holy Kith” Hanson whispered.

“Are we going to go through it and get a full set of records on this anomaly, sir? Gavarty turned to ask Bashir.

“We have to,” Bashir said in awe, “this is what we came for.”

Neptune

Neptune is beautiful, dangerous and dark like the deepest blue core of a glacier. She is the warrior who stands watch at the edge of the solar system.

Pluto is her scout. He warns her of potential threats, but since he only checks in infrequently, Neptune herself has to constantly stay on guard. She doesn’t mind, in fact she loves the solitude, the cold and the serenity of being away from the other empyreans.

Well she does miss Uranus, her sister. They used to be so close. Every so often Neptune feels that she should reach out to Uranus. She strains and tries to change herself but it never does any good. She has been away too long.

The time after those attempts are always a little darker, a little sadder, but Neptune finds a way to remember who she is. She is the first line of defense. Usually she is also the last. For millennia she has trained and fought. She is an expert. She often wonders if the inner planets have grown soft. Mars probably hasn’t, but he is unique.

She doesn’t dwell much on the inner planets. The sun is to bright and when she turns back to the dark she often has to adjust. She usually sets her back firmly against the sun, to stay vigilant against anyone who would dare to threaten her system.

There is something mystical and beautiful about staring into the black.

Note

This is a suicide note I found this morning. It is my handwriting:

Tohubohu

This is how I see the world.

My best friend showed his true colors all of his life, knowing many would not understand and some would persecute him. Recently he has finally been feeling free. Now his confidence was shattered and he sees danger from every side.

The new implants I had installed are acting up. I feel someone else’s eyes seeing what I’m seeing. Private moments, sacred moments. I notice it in the little things. Details I’ve seen a thousand times that I’m focusing on. I wish I had never installed them.

There was a report in the news yesterday about a 12 year old girl who ODed on memory stims. Barely a mention of the child, most of the content focused on the specs of the hardware.

I am on the brink. There are no supports to the left or right of me. Below there is the obvious, safe and easy choice. Death. No consequences, no pain, no suffering. On the other hand there is no hope, no dreams, no progression.

Behind me is the hard choice. To make a difference. To create justice for those who cannot do it for themselves. To stand and be heard. This is a long, painful and terrible choice. Others will suffer for the greater good. I will suffer.

I’m going to jump.

I don’t remember writing this. . .