Roxy wasn’t wandering the halls. Wandering implied some sort of aimlessness. No. She knew where she would end just as well as she knew where she started.
Walking away from Meenah, who had just dropped off in sleep on a bunk. Jake was keeping an eye on her, quite ready to allow Roxy some breathing space after he had granted her the same. Some thinking space.
“Dave”. Off the top of her head, she knew of one other Dave. But he made movies. Screwed up movies. Labeling the deck of cards? That would honestly work with his whole spiel. But… the whole non-event of their encounter lead her to believe it was more something she herself would come up with. Which meant-
Which meant what followed was nothing she was going to like. And, if it was truly her future self at the other end of his statements… either unavoidable, Or something she hoped would be avoidable.
Dirk had already been avoiding her. To ask… tell… propose that he should just sit back and let them handle whatever was coming?
There had to be a subtle way to do this. So Roxy didn’t wander the halls. She paced hallways lined with Carapaces, warn almost to the point as being ragged as the one she had grown up with. She pushed closer to Dirk, desperately trying to strategize a way to make her request.
~
The flight deck. She shivered. Dirk was here, of course. As was the Condesce’s dingy, it’s slightly too organic innards torn out and placed in a thousand separate pieces, Dirk sitting in the middle of them.
“Roxy. Hello.” He hadn’t turned his head to look at her.
“ya had to do it, didnt ya,” They hadn’t talked since the accidental launch.
“A second working vessel gives me infinitely more options when planning our upcoming engagement.”
“more than losin the element of supprise?”
“Roxy, no plan survives meeting the enemy – whoever that ends up being. We have only gained options.” Something clicked in his hands, and started to glow. Dirk made no response except to disassemble it again, “If you’re worried that piloting this deathtrap is in your future – don’t. I’m certain at this point that the controls can be modified to not require your… talents. All the scenarios I’ve come up with so far are for myself or Jane piloting it.”
“if-“
“I don’t feel it’s appropriate to rely on you,” He was looking at Roxy now, “To be blunt, it is unlikely I will have carapaces to distract you with this time.”
When had she hear this tone before? It had- the lie detector. She was in his room again. The only difference was he didn’t feel the need to get out a device to analyze her responses.
“dirkie. yr asking if i can sit out this fite?”
“Who knows. I might have a job for you, if circumstances require it. However, you were under the Condesce’s direct control once, and this one won’t be pretending to be friendly once she sees her own ship.”
“would u sit out of the fite?” Roxy crossed her arms, “is ther any sceenario you could come up with wher you’d sit out of this fite?”
“I’m only following logic here. We have never actually fought the Condesce. I’m also not relying on Jake here, if I don’t have to. Or Jane – but at least I can rely on not her being controlled. I’m the only competent close-quarters fighter here,” He stood up, “And I have no scenarios where that isn’t a necessity with the Condesce.”
Dirk was up to something. He already had a plan.
“is this some scenario? rite now?”
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to get confirmation. This is the scenario where, after you’ve recovered sufficiently from your spin in the vacuum, You realize that I’m actually making leadership decisions. You don’t like this fact. You prefer believing that the previous battle plan was arrived at due to consensus, not as a prudent concession to you for the stability of our group. The Condesce, in whatever form she is in, in whatever body she is in, was always and will always be a threat until she’s dead. Even now, a sword in the gut would be plenty to prove that a just action – that bit isn’t part of the scenario, that’s just facts. The scenario continues as follows,” and his katana appeared from his specibus, “I have to prove, in a stupid fight to the death, my competency, highlander style, except for that one detail that god-tiers resurrect. Being defeated, you drop any pretense that I am not the obvious choice to direct this group.”
Dirk paused, waiting for a response, expecting that was enough to realize he was escalating the situation. Honestly, the less blood to clean off spaceship parts from awkward opening rounds, the better.
Roxy didn’t have to take too long to think. If there was a part of this she was supposed to hate, oh, did she hope it was this.
“weel,” she raised her fists, “i suppose i hav to be the one puncher dud an kill fast. cuz i kno bullets are too slo.”
“Mind you, I’m not saying you’re stupid. A really stupid idea, yes, stupendously stupid, fruitless, laugh about how dumb it was some day stupid idea.” He was slowly backing out of his circles of parts.
Roxy moved in parallel, fists ready – close to the wall. The only real examples of his sword work she had seen were during the Condesce’s training – which, according to what he had just said, he had learned nothing from. And with just the right distance from the wall, he wouldn’t be able to do a sword-dash-decapitation.
Which, honestly, wasn’t Dirk’s intention. He needed to make an example of her this fight. Shame her. It had to be a death by a thousand cuts, otherwise the questioning would just. Keep. Happening.
She needed to see him coming.
She needed to feel the blade grazing her cheek.
After he stepped back, she needed time to feel the wound. To Panic. To Fear.
And then he’d justify that fear.
Except that wasn’t fear in her eyes. Was. Were those claws?
~
There would be an easy way out, to say Roxy wasn’t moving like a human. Were it some noodle spine bullshit, moves happening like the Condesce had tried to pull during “training time”, where she was conveniently showing him her tricks in a low stress environment, that could be compensated for – aiming for the top of the thigh. Not that Dirk had announced that realization.
For one thing, there was a 413-odd-million-year-old cat that apparently had been too bored to do anything to make it’s consciousness’ continued existence known until this point. One that apparently did not want to just teleport him into the black, but otherwise had no qualms in ignoring the concepts of gravity in 3D space he’d only started being able to process a number of months ago.
There was a worse thing, though. As he dodged, as he swung at air, as the fight was suddenly 270 degrees off in a different direction, as his partially broken glasses flew off because she had suddenly appeared wrapped around him like a serpentine belt –
It was clear it wasn’t just the cat. This wasn’t Roxy being saved. This might not even been Roxy letting loose. She was toying with him. He had to end this before she got serious. He could always try arguing the Condesce’s control issue afterwards, but she… she couldn’t win.
While he couldn’t find a pattern, he could wait, fending off blow, trying to position himself near one of the bay’s insulated walls.
And Roxy appeared at his back – ass to his head, going to do something with her legs- fine, it would work.
He brought the tip of his katana to his chest, and pulled. Hard.
~
Roxy blinked, back on the floor, staring up at what counted as a ceiling in the hangar.
While one never wants resurrection to be worse than death, it always seemed… too pleasant. Maybe it was that was no coming down from the rush of endorphins right before – just “excited” to “normal” without a “bluh” in between.
That was like. Honestly even if she lost, that was great. The stress she had been holding on to since her tumble in space with Meenah? Gone. Maybe dirk could spar with Meenah a bit too? Maybe they all should start.
She scratched a bit behind her ears. Oh. Yeah that was a patch of blood, wasn’t it? They really had –
She sat up.
Ok. There was *her* old body, slumped over the sword at an odd twisted angle that honestly she was proud of. Bendy Lyfe, Bendy Death. She’d gotten a little used to seeing her dead body twisted up like that after Condy’s training, post god-tiering.
There was *Dirk’s* old body. It – was significantly grosser, her weight much have pushed him down – the cut started in his chest and was headed up his neck.
Where. Where was Dirk.
“gee gee dirkie? uh… dirk?”
~
Jane heard her name over the intercom. It was Roxy. A very panicked Roxy.
___
In trying to find where this could go, this was what I wrote.
Part 2 of 2, The part where Roxy tries to follow up on warnings from the future
Illustration by Jesseth ( https://tumblr.altamaranempire.com/ ).
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