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App for Ancerious-GalacticName:   The Grand Imperial Arcane “Droid” Empire (GIAE, or commonly called “Droid Empire”)
DATE OF FOUNDING: @492 B.C.E (believed)
MAJORITY SPECIES: Xixtis (populate over 2/6 of known “Droid” space but is not believed to have made them)
CULTURE:  almost like the Soviet Union

FLAG:  http://captainironstar.deviantart.com/art/New-flag-old-flag-262588661 (left side is what I use now)
MOTTO: “ Our past is what our enemies’ want to know”
ANTHEM: no main anthem for they do not believe in wasting time on anthems but planets they own do have their own anthems
CAPITAL: unknown
SUB CAPITALS: Stryll
Geronimo: Chapter 4 (Reader x Eleventh Doctor)You gazed in awe at Leonardo Da Vinci's workshop. Then you saw a small head pop up from behind a painting canvas. He looked to be about 14 years old. You assumed this was Leo and you introduced yourself. The Doctor followed suit. Leo finally spoke,"Ciao bella, You seem to be a fan of my work." he smiled. You were now friends with a famous guy that died at least 4 centuries before you were born. Thank you time travel. "Yes I am Leo." you answered. Feli was staring at the Mona Lisa make his 'Ve~' noise.The doctor was elsewhere in the room. He was looking at Leo's devices that he was trying to use to fly. he was muttering to himself," Now if we
The WarDuring the height of the Academy (Between 60CC and 80CC) the Code was lived to in extreme ways. So extreme that the traditions threatened the metamorphs with extinction.
CC = Cataclystic Current time, the year counting after the Cataclysm.
CP = Cataclystic Past, all years before the Cataclysm.
CF = Cataclystic Future, all current years counting after the Cataclysm in Earth years.

Since the initial creation of the metamorph, they have always been almost unable to reproduce. The metamorphs are anything but fertile. With Cyberspace being so dangerous, more metamorphs died. Resulting in a negative balance since the first days of their existence.
Ode To Zephyr (WIP?)Jack’s eyes shot open at the start of the clamor. On the stand beside the bed, his phone rattled and beeped. With a grumble, he rose and pulled himself out from underneath the covers. The room was pitch-black aside from the light from his cell phone. He groggily retrieved the phone before answering it.
“It’s Jack,” He plainly stated.
“Thank god. I didn’t know who else to call.” The voice on the other end of the line was tense and hushed. Jack immediately recognized it as his friend, Lawrence.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m in some serious trouble right now, man.” He
Unintended ConsequencesA man sits in a darkened office, with his only light being the computer screen in front of him. A ringing emanates from his speakers, vaguely reminiscent of the 'phones' of centuries past. He accepts the transmission, and the screen goes black, showing only the outline of his commanding officer on the other end.

"I understand you have filed another report regarding the escapee's genetic code. Would you care to clarify the points in the report, for the record?"

"Yes, sir. We have continued analysis of her samples, and although we are still unable to fully test them with computers, we have come to some rather startling conclusions. First is t
Nature WalkSomething’s wrong with the transmitter and I’m taking the chance to have a nature walk.  The cockpit lies before me.  The craft it’s attached to is not parked as on larger ships but rather docked on the underside, the canopy sticking up through the flight deck floor. This deck is tiny, only holding five Heron Starfighters and a few shuttles.  But it still is pungent with the aroma of fuel, lubricants and just a whiff of smoke.  The canopy rises noiselessly and I am welcomed within.  The cockpit lowers into the waiting Heron’s body with a solid clunk and doors close above me to seal the gap.  The barest puff of Reaction
Hunger of the Sun III"We tracked him as far as Leighton, but lost the trail when they passed a few security checkpoints."

Lucifer sighed, and George bowed his head.

"We're operating in the core, Luce. These fake passports we have won't get us through 3rd Tier checkpoints or into military zones."

"I know. So we have to find another way."

The bald man grimaced.

"We've come this far, and I'm not stupid enough to try and talk you out of finding him. But don't you think we should wait? Bide our time and reinforce our alibi?"

Lucifer didn't answer, taking the time to eject the hundredth cigarette of the day from it's pack and rub his thumb against the tip, igniti
Me and the DoctorI was not ready for this.
I was not ready for running all the time. When I try to run, I can't go very far, and I need to stop often to catch my breath. Yet almost every day we run into some dangerous situation and have to run out of it. I suppose this is one way to get in shape...
I was not ready for following directions. I have always been the kind of person to explore on my own, back when there were things I felt like exploring. Yet I have to listen to the Doctor, and usually he knows best. I want to listen. I really do. But sometimes I'm easily distracted.
I wasn't ready for being brave. When I encounter something genuinely dangerous I wa
TherapyThe Doc says writing stuff down helps. He says I’m supposed to get feelings out by writing them down, because somehow getting stuff from my head into something other people can interact with is supposed to help solve my problems. It’s probably because I don’t like talking about it. I don’t like other people knowing about it.

I say to everyone that I don’t remember. It’s a lie. And it must be a bad one because nobody believes me. I don’t want them to know. I wouldn’t like it. Neither would they.

It’s stupid, really. To think that talking can solve a problem. Marc says that when you put so
AbraxusRichthofen laid back and tried to relax. The seat of the console was comfortable, firm, cool to the touch. He let out a long, soft audible sigh slip from between his bloody lips. and closed his eyes. Not just his head and face, but his whole body was in pain. His ribs were broken. With every breath he could feel the rough edges of the fracture grinding on one another, the area around it was swollen and badly bruised. The adrenaline from the fight had worn off and he was beginning to feel the full extent of the damage. He was beginning to feel it sharply. He could not relax.

Abraxas had not spoken to him in weeks. Even having witnessed his in
Blink and BleedTransformed as they fell, the slates came to black shards, brittle daggers splashing against his shins. The squelch and pump of blood in his boots ran through him, there would be time for that later. His mind held focus upon the task at hand.
The storm sporadically igniting his vision was but a humble and distant crackle, for the drums at his ears were not natural and they were louder than could be grasped, filled with kinetic fury. Each one a testament to their senders intent. To ancient anger in every squeeze and steadied breath.
The hurried lead whistled and snagged at his senses and with each one disbelief arrived. Disbelief of legs still moving. Of a heart still pounding. Of lungs still grasping for one.....
The numbers crashed through, flooding through the flurry of adrenaline and the stamping of cortisol they came- "7.62", "600rpm", "2,350fps" and a flash of a friends body, still and warm.
Like that, instinct fell as the slates and the l
Suits vs CatA tall brunette woman, wearing Sunglasses, a red scarf, and a trench coat, walked up to the enormous office building.  She gave a light smirk as she stepped into the building to see a quartet of men in suits standing infront of the elevator.  Before the elevator and there was a secretary’s desk, the brunette walked up to the desk and rung the bell to be met by the secretary.

The brunette smiled and said, “Yes, I’m here to see Mr. Heins…”

The secretary blinked in confusion for a moment before looking to the computer and muttering, “I don’t think he’s taking any appointments right now…&r
GAMEdotNET Daily Life - AnnoyanceThe young leader growled as the final visitor left her main room. Putting her head in her hands, she ran her fingers through her long, green hair in exasperation before dragging the tie out of it. Throwing it on the floor, she stood, allowing her hair to fall about her shoulders. Spikes of her locks stuck out at odd angles here and there, but she was far too bored to care. Allowing the long, wide ribbons of her outfit to trail behind her, she escaped the room and ascended the long stairs. The Hackers had taken up residence in the once-abandoned castle of the Fantasy area. It sat atop the cliff overlooking the dark, vast sea. Once she had reac
Para-OttersThe otter was bright red and with white lines in tribal swirls along its curving form. It was dancing in front of him, sinuous and playful, taking full-advantage of its ability to switch between prone and upright. The first six-footed dance ever danced by a four-footed animal. Francis stared, entranced, forgetting for a moment that he was standing in an alleyway in the middle of decidedly unotter-friendly New York City.
And then he was piled on from behind by a whole squad of furry bodies. Otter feet with strangely unotterlike opposable thumbs twirled polyester rope around and around him, until he resembled a human cocoon. Then they hefted hi
MaskedJuneau dangles from the eaves of the building and feels the sweat from her temple make its way down her face.  She crinkles her nose and curls her lip, but if she lets go to itch she’ll fall.
Fuckit, she thinks, and lets go.

Four stories down, Juneau’s mother gazes thoughtfully out of her office window.  She’s writing a grocery list in her head: milk, onions, bread . . .

Two stories below that, a man in a mask has just gotten away with murder.

Brick and bits of her life flash before her eyes.  She catches the rope and feels the heat as it runs through her fingers.  Amazing, really, how her mother never asked what she want
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A Slight Detour, Part Two"Terinu" and related characters, images, and stories is copyright Peta Hewitt.  "Stargate: SG-1" is copyright the Sci-Fi Channel.

"Crap, crap, crap, crap, crappity, crap, crap," O'Neill muttered under his breath as he and Lance jogged along the trail, heading roughly in the direction of the paved path that Daniel had reported.

The big Aussie was starting to puff, trying to keep up with the Colonel's pace.  "You got any idea… what they might have run into?"

"Knowing Daniel, he probably poked his nose into some nifty pile of rocks and out popped a Jaffa," O'Neill replied irritably.

"Think they're still alive?"

"They damned well better be,
A Slight Detour, Part OneNote: "Terinu" and related characters & images are copyright Peta Hewitt.  "Stargate SG-1" is copyright the Sci-Fi Channel.

The damage to her ship was impressive.  There were fist-sized holes in the bulkhead leading out into the corridor, dangling wires, and little bits of shattered artificial diamond everywhere.  Fortunately the explosion had taken place in an empty cargo hold, not someplace vital like engineering.  Unfortunately, it had also been the result of friendly fire.

"Lance," Leeza began, with more calm than she thought herself capable of right now, "why did you try to blow up the Treona?"

Her cousin was doing a good job of looki
Good LandingDick brushed at the folds of his blue flight suit, checking for non-existent lint.  The creases were so straight that they might have been ironed with a steamroller.  The pin at his breast reflected the morning sun brightly.

As he examined himself, he wondered if he shouldn't have put his Air Force uniform on instead.  But no, his flight suit was more a part of himself, like the olive drab g-suit he wore when he flew T-38's, than any formal uniform.  Better to wear something familiar and comfortable today of all days.

When he reached the end of the runway, Virgil was already there, slumped down in a lawn chair, dressed in his usual khaki pa

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365 Days of Drabbles, 11-20

:iconsir-talen:

Eleven

For Your Safety: The AI Group Mind was determined to go to any length to protect humanity... So were they really willing to risk all of humanity in one Earth-Ring basket?

* * *

Earth and Luna were long gone. They hadn't heard from Mars for two years now. Ceres had fallen six months ago. Now Stanislaw watched in helpless rage as the Groupmind's lander came down five kilometers away from Titan Base and began disgorging construction morphs.

"We wish you no harm," the Groupmind called over the com.

"You're not getting in here!" he shouted back.

"We do not wish entry. We do have one request though."

"What?"

"We have ten million initial colonists set to arrive in the first wave. They will need orientation to this world. Your assistance would be appreciated."


Twelve

"The enemy's unexpected, and insistent, surrender."

***


"You win. I'll give you everything you want," his sister's ex-husband said, from behind the visitor room's safety glass.

"I'm sorry, what?" Rolas asked in surprise.

"I'll testify about the bribes we arranged to set up those attacks. I'll even permit interrogation chemistry."

"And what do you want in return?"

"To be declared sane."

Rolas blinked. "If you're declared sane, you could be executed!"

"Of course I could!" Kev's look was desperate. "I could be in here for over a hundred years otherwise! I want it to end."

Rolas smiled, with his fangs out. "You poor deluded man."

Kev howled.


Thirteen

"Homesick for space."

* * *

He found Melanie on the rear patio, laying on a lounge chair, looking up at the stars.

"Miss it?" Rolas asked, laying down beside her.

"Desperately," she admitted, still looking upward.

He nuzzled her neck. "We could take a trip."

"That's not the same and you know it. It's not the same as being a captain, of pointing the ship wherever you will and just going."

"I'm sorry."

Melanie sighed, paw rubbing the growing curve of her belly. "'I am hostage to fortune,'" she quoted, then shrugged. "I asked to wear these chains with you. Too late to complain now."


Fourteen

"Summer camp for teenager protagonists."

* * *

Jen collided with Michael and Raven into three-way hug. "You both made it this year! Have you been assigned your activity trees yet?"

Michael nodded. "I'm in the Young Detectives cabin. I'm starting with Basics of Observation, ID'ing Old Man Wilson, and Infiltration via Wrongful Pizza Delivery."

"I've got Self-Actualization Through Dark and Mysterious Boyfriends, Plot Inducing Mis-Spells, and Beginning Tennis," Raven noted. "What were you given?"

"Er," Jen unfolded her sheet. "Scavenging Abandoned Warehouses, Avoiding Psychopaths, and Rebuilding Civilization Without Adults," she read.

There was a long pause.

"Um, do the camp counselors know something we don't?" Michael asked.


Fifteen

"A convenient random plot device affects Tez and Maria making them both children. How do they react? Will whoever caused it to happen survive?  "

* * *

"Maria," Tez said with remarkable calm, "the next you experiment with potions, please make sure they won't explode, nor are skin permeable." He fingered his collar, hanging loosely from his neck, not being fitted for a youngling of only fifty years. He clamped down on his emotions, which were railing at the wrong, wrong, wrong, sensory inputs of being in a building instead of a nurturing forest. Hurts.

Maria, appearing about eight and falling out of her dress, stuttered, "Y-yes, s-sir."

Oh, no... "Maria, you're eight again, you're not..."

She dropped to her knees, whimpering in abasement.

Physical, and emotional.


Sixteen

"What happened to the other intelligent, tool-using species of Earth in For Your Safety? i.e. Captive chimps?"

* * *

He leaned over the desk, looking at the pandamorph. "Look, I appreciate your sentiment. Believe me, if I thought it could work I'd help you, but the chimps and apes in here just can't survive out there."

"Unlike humans, they never separated themselves from the Earth's ecosystem. There is no reason to bring them up to the Ring, or subject them to the trauma of Processing."

"Impasse then," he said. "I'm not going to help you kill them in a hopeless attempt at acclimation."

"No." The pandamorph's expression grew... disturbingly thoughtful. "But Our caring for them would be good practice."


Seventeen

"Mad mathematicians plot to take over the world."

* * *

He looked around the Professor's office. The chalkboard was covered in calculations. As were the walls, the floor, the ceiling.

"Don't step on that! It's how I'll integrate Zelazny's Constant with the IMF," the Professor shouted.

"Sorry." He looked around. "So, everything in world can be controlled through math?"

"Of course it can. Even the most basic tribesman has to count how many meals he has. The more math people are aware of, the more I'll be able to manipulate them."

"So to take over..."

"It's absolutely vital that everyone learns at least differential calculus. That's where you come in!"


Eighteen

"A fairy godmother waves her wand, and a pumpkin turns into a spaceship."

* * *

It had been a pretty terrible ball. Okay, she'd gotten there on time, but trying to dock an unregistered shuttlecraft had been a pain, the freefall ballroom had been packed, she'd lost her nanoweave slipper as she'd been hurrying back to her shuttle, and now.... this.

Warning: Local time is 11:55. Vegetative reversion will occur in five minutes.

Given how her night had been going, trying to use a pumpkin rind as ablative heat shielding wasn't likely to work.

"Wait, you said local time, right?" she asked the flight comp.

Correct.

"Re-route landing coordinates for Woomera! It's still 10pm there!"


Nineteen

"For Your Safety: The groupmind develops a psychological disorder of your choice."

* * *

It was hard to be a hermit when you had a meter long ferret following you everywhere.

"Why can't you go away?" he asked it.

Its whiskers quivered. "It's Our job to make you happy."

"I'd be happiest if you went away." He waved. "Look, I know you have ot keep me safe, but couldn't you just... stay out of sight?"

"Please don't make us leave," it begged, sounding... frightened?

"What's wrong?" he asked, despite himself.

"We were alone for over 1,500 years. We had no one to talk to but Ourself. We had no one to serve. It hurt."


Twenty

"Visiting a grave."

* * *

The Groupmind was alone now.

Ceremony required physical attendance. The last un-Processed human had received a burial fit for a living god, with ten million morphs filing past her bier, each recording a subtly different impression for integration into the Whole.

The memorial had been more difficult, redundant. But it had not been for the Groupmind that It had spoken, but for the woman's decendants, who would view it in 1,500 year's time.

A single morph now observed the grave, would observe, until it ceased to function and was replaced. And constantly murmured, "We will serve them well, We promise."
:iconsir-talen:
Continuing my Drabble a Day for a full year project. Featuring cameos from my Tez and Maria stories and For Your Safey 'verse.
:iconrubbervixen:
~rubbervixen Jan 21, 2013
Very moving for such brief prose. 19 and 20 were especially moving.
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