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A powerful fight

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Sep 29, 2007 Obsidian link
“Sir” he began, “I have to request that you reassign me. I do not feel I can successfully complete this mission. Perhaps you can find another suitable candidate.”

The ancient miner leaned back into his chair. He had pondered this situation for some time now and had reached few certainties. However he was positive that his dear Obsidian was in personal chaos and on a destructive downward spiral. She needed healing beyond what was available in the med-bay. Looking at the man Ecka began “You were not chosen for this mission, the mission chose you. I don’t claim to understand the workings of the universe and after years of seeing I believe that much is possible. When you arrived I knew why you had come to TGFT. I knew what had to be done. You cannot fight it. You’re here for Obsidian; I know you can feel it to the core of your being. Go to her, without you she is lost.”

The man looked solemnly at Ecka and realized everything the commander had told him was true. He had no decision to make; it had already been made for him. He had to face Obsidian and everything that came along.

As the man left his office Ecka said to no one in particular “Oh, Siddy, I hope you can find it in you to accept what is being offered.”

Obsidian was full of regrets, the lives that had slipped through her fingers, so many gone in to the blackness. If only she had done something, been there, maybe her family would still be intact. She could see their faces when she slept and the guilt twisted her stomach.

He found her standing in the observation room staring off into the distance. He saw her body stiffen as she sensed his presence so he quietly took a seat and waited. Obsidian stood for another few minutes and then wordlessly sat down next to him. He reached over to stroke her hair away from her face. She shook her head to move her hair back in her face, hoping to cover up that her eyes were blurred with tears. Obsidian thought of this breakdown as a display of her limitations. He knew that she wouldn't want the others to see her like this but she had reached the edge.

“I don’t show weakness,” Obsidian protested, shaking her head so that her hair fell back over her face.

He just stroked her hair away from her face again. “Weakness shows humanity,” he whispered.

The routine repeated itself over and over until his caresses left her quiet. He talked to her in a low voice. “It’s okay to cry. There’s no reason to hide anything from me. It’s okay to show your feelings. Locking them up only makes things worse,” It became his soft mantra to her.

Somehow Obsidian felt safe around him, she liked that he talked to her so softly and stroked her hair like that. She let her tears flow freely and her sobs become audible as she heard the voice telling her that it was all right to show feelings. They stayed that way throughout most of the night, Obsidian crying while he stroked her hair talking to her in a soothing voice. “Living in the past does nothing but keep you from looking at the road ahead.”

“So how long before it stops hurting?” Obsidian asked, her eyes still overflowing with tears.

“When I find out I’ll let you know.” he whispered as hugged her back, and they stayed like that for quite a while.
Sep 30, 2007 Obsidian link
“Hey, Surb, I need to check some things with you” Obsidian said as she crossed her arms.

Surbius looked up from his ledger and seemed annoyed by her presence. He motioned with his pen for her to come in and take a seat.

“I think there has been a mistake in my reimbursements for last month. I submitted receipts for 567,900 credits and I only got 45,679 credits deposited in my account.”

“No. There has not been a mistake; I personally checked your report twice. You were paid only for authorized expenses.”

“Authorized expenses? Everything on that list was authorized…”Surbius cut her off with a stern look “ I think you neglected to read the memo I sent out regarding changes to expense accounts.”

“Oh, Surb, you send such long memos; last time I got like 42 pages from you, what am I supposed to do? Read all of it? Your memos are so think and dense I can use them to plug holes in the hull plating”

“You CAN read Obsidian, right?”

“Yes, I can read SURB, but give me a break your memos are like overkill. Why just last week you sent out a memo regarding ‘retrieval of authorized bathing apparatus’. It took me over half an hour to figure out that you were upset because I had left my loofah sponge in the showers. Then you sent that memo on getting preauthorization for sneezing because you were concerned about the recent increase in tissue usage. What kind of bull was that about maximizing use while minimizing consumption of tissue squares if you optimized your nose evacuation process….”

He crossed his arms and stared “Obsidian I have a very important job here, I need to make sure TGFT stays solvent.”

“Solvent? Give me a break, I know that we’re doing fine, TGFT has been investing very well for years. While we don’t know how much a Constellation will cost us when they do become available privately, I’ll bet my left kidney that we will be one of the first guilds to get one. Don’t try claiming that TGFT is too poor to buy a few extra boxes of tissues.”

Shifting slightly Surbius continued to stare at her “I do not enjoy doing what I have to do but I take it seriously unlike some council members I know.”

“Seriously? You take everything so seriously? Well… I think you’re a duck bigamist…. Come on… a memo on the ‘TGFT approved rubber ducky COLORS???’ Who exactly were you trying to reach with that memo, the only one here with a BLACK ninja rubber ducky? That was a low blow dude” she flared.

“I think you mean bigot Obsidian, I’m a duck bigot…..” Surbius began but stopped when he realized what he was saying.

“Yeah, I know you disapprove of me Surb. However, if I can use chaos swarms to defend myself, why not? I thought it was about skills and wits, not who had the biggest guns.”

“Chaos Swarms are a defensive tool and if you had read the memo you would know that TGFT will only pay for reloading them once for every five trade runs completed. Considering you requested 769 reloads you obviously have been misusing them. If you want to become a true combat pilot you need to get rid of the training wheels and start using energy weapons.”

“But, SURB….”

“Nothing you say will change my mind Obsidian, this matter is closed.”

Seeing she was not going to get him to listen to her anymore she said in a soft voice “can I at least get permission to keep my ducky?”

Pushing a stack of papers over the desktop he replied “fill out form 3N-45R 'Bathing Companion Authorization', form 56Q 'Fingerprint/Biometric Background Check' and form 89T-4C 'Request for exemption from TGFT color scheme'."

"Um, Surbius?"

"Yes?"

"How do I get fingerprints from a rubber ducky?"

All he could do was sigh.
Sep 30, 2007 Surbius link
Obsidian walked out with all the forms she needed and a few more Surbius slipped in to keep her busy from bothering him about receipts and black ninja rubber duckies.

Surbius looked at his watch and groaned. "Two more hours till Nation War.", he said with a disappointing tone.

Surbius spent ten more minutes at his desk shuffling papers, stamping envelopes, and acting all important about his work even though he hated it with a passion. Then he decided to do some recreation around the station. He got up from his chair, pushed a button underneath his desk; it slid to the side of the room; his chair jolted forward on its hover generators making him fall back into it. The chair and Surbius entered the long corridors of TGFT HQ; Surbius pointed himself straight down the adjacent corridor where his office met at the middle of a T-intersection. Placing his headset comm. on active; pushing the chair a few meters out; he walked back to his office door; turned around and sprung for the chair; landing with such force the chair and Surbius sped off down the corridor drifting into walls which provided perfect bouncing points to accelerate himself. He chatted on the commlink while racing down the corridors.

Moments after Surbius left his office and started up some conversations, Obsidian was in the cafeteria filling out some 'important' paperwork with her soon to be 'authorized bathing companion', Black Ninja Rubber Ducky, looking ever so innocent by her paperwork and meal. She heard a clatter outside in the corridor followed by someone yelling and someone on a very dark green hoverchair speeding by. "No, it can't be... can it?", she said as if talking to her ducky. Her question was answered soon enough.

"Hahaha! Sorry about that sir! I'll make sure drop a 1000c or so into your account.", blasted Surbius over guild chat. "I feel the need to feed.", spat Surbius again at random.

Surbius raced into the cafeteria on his hoverchair stopping just before plowing into the table Obsidian was filling out her paperwork. "Well ello Obs.", he said using his best English accent.

Obsidian was less than amused with him acting cheery after giving her paperwork. "Hey, Surbius, what is this: "UIT Tax Identification Serial Code"?".

Smiling he gave her a quick summary of the UIT Tax Identification Serial Code. "Oh, I can put that out in the next memo if you would like."

"Nonononono!", she said shaking her hands and head. "No more memos!"

"Oh, alright. I'll try to keep that under control.", he said with a wink. He walked off to get something and came back a couple minutes later to find her still filling out paperwork, tapping the pen on the table, her hair in a mess from combing her hand through it too many times, and her food getting cold. He peeked over at her paperwork and laughed out loud, "Ha, you don't need to fill these out. In matter of fact I believe you don't need any such paperwork for your 'bathing companion'."

Obsidian's face blazed with red after what Surbius stated. She bent the metallic pen, stood up, grabbed her tray, and threw her food onto Surbius; then stomped out of the cafeteria with her ducky in hand.

Sitting there with bits of cold meat and vegetables all over him and his chair, he said, "Oops. Sorry about that. I'll make sure to put a memo out about no paperwork being required for 'bathing companions'." A tremendously loud roar with a feminine touch emanated from the corridor which Obsidian stomped away into.
Oct 04, 2007 Obsidian link
Obsidian threw the pencil that she was holding across the synthwood desk. ‘Who am I trying to kid,’ she asked herself as she leaned back in her chair. Pulling her dusty boot clad feet to rest on the desktop, she knitted her fingers together behind her head and leaned back into the chair as she contemplated what she should do next.

She had been trying all week to catch up on some of the paper work that her position generated. But her mind could no longer rest on work any more than a child could sit still through church. She was restless it continued to grow with each passing hour. Her skin began to itch and she scratched at a spot on her neck absentmindedly. While she had been working at pushing the voice away, it still lingered on the edges of her perception. She knew it was calling to her, pulling her back out into the black, demanding a sacrifice. She had to get out of the office and someplace where she would not be alone because she couldn't trust her self control much longer.

“I hate not being able to use Swarms.” She complained as she sat down next to Ecka at the table later that day.

“Well you know as they say what doesn’t kill us only makes you stronger” Ecka replied.

“But I keep on losing, it all ends to quickly, there’s no grace, no flow. I was an artist with swarms; we danced in the sky. It was poetry in motion,” she continued.

Gently he added “Lass you need to work on dodging more.”

“I WAS DODGING, Ecka! What did you think I was doing? Painting my toenails?”

“Aye lass, indeed I did and I bet it was a pretty pink to boot!” Ecka laughed expecting Obsidian to join him.

“ARGH!” she screamed in frustration. "How much more will I have to take?"

There was the constant teasing from Waldoze and the awkward silences with John Eldritch. The odd man Pancakes who insisted he knew what she should eat for breakfast. She shuddered as she recalled her last encounter with Smittens who had probably mentally undressed her a thousand times by now. And just the other day Surbius demanded she give up her weapons of choice and change who she spends personal time with. Now, one of her most trusted advisors, Ecka, was telling her she was not trying enough... How could he not know how hard she had been working to keep herself in check, to keep the pieces from breaking apart and falling away. How dare he accuse her of "not trying enough".

Ecka looked at the younger woman and tried to think of something insightful to say that could help her. Nothing came.

Visibly upset she added “Why are you all trying to change me into something I’m not? I'm just me, you know, 'Obsidian', TGFT founding member, long time council, remember?”

Her blood felt thick and burned as it run through her veins. She fidgeted in her seat, debating what to do next. Realizing that while at the moment she would enjoy lashing out, beating up your guild’s commander would be political suicide, so she decided to retreat to a more neutral area in the station. She went to take it all out on the punching bag in the gym. Thud, thud, kick, bounce, Thud, thud, kick, bounce. It would be soothing to just let her body go through the motions while her mind drifted.

He was already there and waiting for her. She wondered if is was a random chance or if Ecka had called him. It didn't matter, Obsidian was ready to take what was available so she took up a defensive stance and they began to fight. It was tiring and the two combatants warmed up quickly. Obsidian noticed that he had taken off his shirt; he had never done that before. She tried to only take quick glances at his exposed physique yet she soon noticed there were a series of small red scars on his lower back. Obsidian's mind started to turn and she was determined to learn more about those scars.

He jumped as he felt her two arms wrap around his middle, and he hissed in surprise when her hand traced his scar. Her eyes, full of concern, darted towards his face as she said, “ I’m sorry—I—did I hurt you?”

He blinked, wondering why she would be concerned. “No, the scar doesn’t hurt; you just surprised me.”

She nodded slightly, keeping her eyes on his. Obsidian again traced the scar with her fingertips and silently cursed not having a clear view. She felt the two small scars that made a right angle and the longer line to the right. She didn’t have to see it to know that he was marked with the symbol for POWERFUL. As she realized what he had scarred on his back she tried to keep herself calm and to not let on to what she had discovered.. He was starting to wish he knew why she was looking at him like that, when, without warning, her lips brushed against his. When he didn’t respond, she started to pull away, but he held her tightly. He was rather amazed at himself, actually. After all…his vow… .

“I’m sorry, Obsidian. You just surprised me again.” Internally, he winced, knowing how foolish he sounded. But then again, his brain was only functioning on half power.

Obsidian grinned at him, only the very corners of her mouth turning up. “You know, I wonder how good you really are as a fighter pilot since you seem to be surprised so much.”

He smirked. “I’m very good at what I do …” and he caught her chin, tilting it upwards. He kissed her very gently. After all, he was very good at what he did.

Suddenly the world began to spin and she fell to the ground. Dazed she slowly got back to her feet. She felt the warmth running down her cheek and touched it. As she took away her hand she noticed the stickiness and expected to see bright red blood from a cut. Instead what she saw was black, a deep, dark blackness. “Something is wrong…” was all she could think before she passed out again.

In the medical bay she lay on the cold metal table as blood samples were drawn. All of the samples came out the same “unknown biological detected”. As the first vial was filling she got agitated and the technicians had to sedate her. There was a flurry of activity in the small room as sample after sample was drawn, different tissues and body fluids, from various locations trying to verify the improbable. Obsidian became feverish and mumbled incoherently. “I tried to tell you that something was in me. I wondered why no one else felt this. My skin was crawling. I wasn’t in control. It’s trying to take over me…”

From the doorway he watched. He could feel it in his veins, a raw fury that knew only one thing. Rage made his blood boil, thinking of how they’d do to her like they had done to him. He wouldn’t let them. He’d shed a lot of blood in the name of fear. Now he’d make sure no one else bled. He’d see to it personally.
Oct 06, 2007 smittens link
Good write. Sorry for not responding to the others before, but I haven't been at my computer much these days.
Oct 13, 2007 Obsidian link
Obsidian had a secret; she was afraid of failure. She was petrified that one day she would wake up and discover that she wasn’t as smart and knowledgeable as she thought she was. She was certain that the day would come when someone would give her a mission and she would fail at it. Then everyone would see the pretender she was and they would all detest her and she’d become nothing. Obsidian was the GUIDE; what was she if not that?

It was one of the reasons that she had gone to that isolated station in the first place. She wanted to know more, to know it all, to be able to battle and bluff her way so people wouldn’t think of her as anything but extraordinary. She was determined to get her fear under control. She was offered a metamorphosis, a chance to become what she had sought and in the process eliminate her fears forever.

The somber mood pervaded the TGFT headquarters. The council met and spoke in hushed voices only bits and pieces drifted to the ceiling.

“Obsidian isn’t doing well”.

“…. had to quarantine her..”

“ Does anyone know when she was exposed to this pathogen? “

“… wonder if it is catching…”

Ecka tried to remember when Obsidian had first showed signs of her strange behavior. The days and weeks jumbled in his head as he asked himself when had it all began desperately working to sort out the timeline… He recalled her mentioning having odd dreams a few months ago and he had dismissed them as a product of an over active imagination with maybe a touch of space loneliness. Had that been the first warning sign? Ecka’s brow creased as he thought about Obsidian’s sabbatical that had ended a some time ago. He would bet his best mining beam that it was during that juncture something had happened to her. If only he could recall where had she been? What she had done?

Asleep in her bunk, isolated from the general population, Obsidian was resting peacefully, until she found herself, in her dream, back in her ship alone. Her breathing quickened as in her dream she hears the voice commanding her. When she hesitates to act something strikes her hard across the face, knocking her to the floor. "The pain will stop when you accept your place." The image of her tormentor swirled around her in her drugged dream state.

The man with the matching scars sat in the chair next to her and had kept vigil for the long days and even longer nights she fought her personal war. Obsidian stirred slightly, her eyelashes fluttering as she entered REM sleep. When she cried out he hesitated to touch her, stopping just before his hand fully touched her cheek. He wanted to comfort her and to take away all the pain and nightmares. She whimpered and the sound of her pain made him bold. So he placed his hand on her soft skin, his fingertips just barely grazing her face. Obsidian flinched for a second, but then she recognized the touch. Her hand reached up and pressed his larger hand to her. He smiled and let her press into his hand before pulling away again and going back to his chair.

“I don't know what you need, Obsidian” he whispered to himself. “ I want to help you more than anything. But truthfully I don't know how anymore. I can only do what I think is right... and that sure as hell isn’t working.”

Stirring on the bed, Obsidian awoke. Without opening her eyes she murmured ”I... don't... understand who... you, they, want me to be. Every time I think I'm maybe getting close... you... ...contradict it...”

”Does it make you angry?” he asked.

“ No... Lost... confused... “ She had opened her eyes and was now staring at a place only she could see. “I'm trying... I really am... but I'm failing... “

” You aren't failing! You just need to stop pretending to be someone you aren't. Stop listening to the voice in your head, Obsidian. Just act! Hell, I'd love to see some genuine spontaneity from you. It is just a voice. It can't hurt you! No matter what it says...you're safe! So stop listening to the voice! “
Oct 13, 2007 smittens link
"OOoooOoooOoooOOObbbss...." Smittens whispered into the station comm at TGFT headquarters.

"OOoOOOOobbbbs....give Smittens 50 credits..."

After all, unless Obsidian had just heard better advice, she would of course be forced to do whatever a voice told her.
Oct 14, 2007 Obsidian link
You are such a ninny Smittens!

It is a specific voice that I hear. Not your squeaky one!
Oct 14, 2007 smittens link
You said the N word. Now we have to lock this thread
Oct 14, 2007 Obsidian link
Fine, I appolgize. Now can we get back to the story?
Oct 18, 2007 Obsidian link
While the doctors in the medical bay attended to her physical needs, the struggle for her soul raged on in the battlefield of her mind. Through the passage of time the memory blocks crumbled allowing bits and pieces of what had happened to bubble to the surface. Years of struggling to stay positive and pleasant had pushed the negative emotions deep. There they compressed into a larger and larger form until they could not be contained. Within her turmoil she drifted between her two realities.

She hazily recalled she had betrayed her trade guild by going to the pirates for help: SYN, CLM, BLAK. She could not remember which one had given her the contact because she had followed so many false leads and greased so many plams to make that final connection it was a blur. However there was someone who held the promise of freedom from her fears. So she had gone to that isolated station in Pelatus to get help. The purpose was to increase her skills but instead they had invaded her body and soul. It had been a trap designed to lure in those who could be converted.

They branded her, she was to become their slave, and she was trained to do their bidding. Obsidian had been taught to embrace her anger, aggression, vengeance and bitterness.

She fought the conditioning but it washed over her like a tidal wave.

Blood…rain…anger.

The emotions surged through her, as powerful as if they were her own. But they weren’t. Obsidian had never seen images like these.

Screaming…pain.

She wanted to cry and drown them out. But they wouldn’t stop. Sadness.

She felt the sharp prick of a needle being inserted and then she was swept away. She knew it was not real. None of its real, none of it, but it felt real…feels too real...

“Obsidian, can you hear me?” Moda asked as her gently shook her shoulder. He leaned over her bed in the medical bay.

Obsidian was relieved to find herself outside of her nightmare. “I’m awake, I can hear you just fine” she replied. “How soon can I get out of here?” She didn't want to be around anyone knowing that she had been a traitor to her guild.

“Well you don’t seem contagious and now that your body scans have returned to normal. I think I can release you for light duty”

“Wonderbar… I can’t wait to get to do all that paperwork that Surbius has stashed away for me…” she griped.

“And Obsidian, in case you were wondering, we did a DNA scan, Ecka’s not your father.”

Puzzled, Obsidian replied “I never thought he was.”

“Well in light of the recent appearance of two long lost children, I thought it would prudent to test everyone I see, just in case. So far I have found three additional offspring.”

“Ecka sure did get around,” she laughed.

It had been a week and Obsidian was finally allowed to return to a normal work load. She had even done a few trade runs to pad her bank account and to prove to TGFT that she still could trade with the best of them. Tumblemonster had been gloating that day in his self-proclaimed title “Number One Pilot in Sedina.”

Obsidian caught his hail as she entered the sector “Greetings, please stop and pay me 500 thousand credits or I'll have to shoot you dead. Thank you for your cooperation. Have a nice day.”

“I don’t want to” she retorted and steadied herself for the skirmish. She had been practicing her self-control and she knew she would have to wait until the timing was right for her swarms.

300m,
275m,
250m,
200m

When he was in range, close enough to force into dodging the wrong way she unleashed a volley of missiles. Tumblemonster quickly dodged left and headed towards a nearby asteroid hoping to distract the missiles. As he flew by the missiles tried to turn but smashed into the surface of the roid. Laughing to himself he swung around the roid. Little did he realize that Obsidian had veered to the right and was coming around the opposite side of the asteroid. Firing her positrons she hit Tumblemonster’s ship knocking him off balance. She then followed with a set of swarms and in a blue flash he was gone.

Undaunted by his previous defeat Tumble returned to that sector to reassert his dominance. Again, Obsidian waited until her was in range before firing her swarms. This time Tumble was ready and pulled away in a tight turn; the tails of the missiles twisted into a spiral as they struggled to lock on to their target. Obsidian launched a second batch and the missiles wove an intricate pattern in the blackness.

“Drat, all misses!”

While she loved the look of the missiles as they danced towards their target, she also knew that she had to make every shot count otherwise she’s be left with rather weak weaponry. Obsidian could taste this victory and was not going to let Tumblemonster win. She swung around hard and moved in for the kill shot. The bloodlust raged in her veins, pounding her head and fogging up her vision. KABAM! Obsidian’s ship was engulfed in a flash of light and sound..

“You are having issues” her on board computer told her.

“No Duh!” she yelled back. “I know that I’m having issues”

Obsidian’s ship had been damaged by her OWN missiles. How embarrassing and how stupid could she be? Struggling to regain her composure Obsidian twisted the yolk to try to control herself and her ship. She breathed deeply and held it. Now steadier and refocused she scanned the area for Tumblemonster’s ship. Spotting him at the far edge of her screen she decided to go in for the attack. One single shot of well placed swarms at his ship and it disappeared into the black. Again Obsidian had defeated him.

“How many times is that?” She wondered. The battles seemed too easy to win. “Was this an assassin sent by one of the pirate guilds? Was he just toying with her? Was he really Number One? Or was he testing her to see if she was still under their control?”

Why had she been so naive? She thought she was safe, that this was all a bad dream to be forgotten. Now she had a thing still penetrating her mind and spirit. Something that had CLM hunting for her to “Find Obsidian and see if she'll tell you what is truly in her heart. If she does, feed it to me."

This did not bode well.
Oct 21, 2007 Obsidian link
The memory blocks continued to crumble in Obsidian’s mind. As more and more of her actions were revealed to her shame grew. She had been so weak that she succumbed to her fear and had sought out those whom she should never had. The temptation had been too great, if they could teache her, train her, make her better than before it hsd to be worth the cost.

She remembered she had found that man in that lonely station in Pelatus sitting in a dim corner of the bar, his eyes constantly scanning the room. She approached him and slid into the seat next to him ready to play out the sequence of signs and countersigns.

“How about buying a thirsty pilot a drink?’

“It depends on what you’re drinking.”

“I’ll have an Old Pirate”

“Interesting choice. I’ll think I’ll stick with Serco Ale”

He ordered her the drink and when it arrived he got up and left. Obsidian picked up her glass and saw the message on the coaster “Bay C at 1700 hours.”

Obsidian’s heart jumped, she had found him, the man who was going to help her banish her fears forever. She could hardly wait until it was time to meet him.

“If you train me I’ll get better.” Obsidian said, giving him a look. He said nothing in response, walking forward and looking her up and down instead. Obsidian felt her face burn as his eyes raked over every part of her body, analyzing and studying her. He was trying to make her uncomfortable, she knew.

“You’re weak and soft. You’ll never amount to anything. Why don’t you go crying home to your mommy because you can’t write your name in the snow“ “

“What? I found you. Surely that means that I am worthy”

“I’m not going to waste my time on a foolish little girl who tries to play with the ‘big boys’ “

“I can pay double your fee. I want you to help me.”

“Go home Obsidian. This is not woman’s work.”

“Answer my damn question!” she growled. He said nothing, but instead darted around behind her and slapped her on the backside. Obsidian’s rarely seen temper flared, and her fist flew back in response to the invasion of personal space. He leaned out of reach, still smiling as her fist completely missed him. Obsidian was starting to think he’d been testing her since she first spoke to him. Well, she had no intentions of failing.

“Why should I answer you?”

“Because, I need you to train me!”

Her fists were clenched and she could feel a vein in her temple popping. Obsidian couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her so furious. It only added to her anger that he was standing quietly by, watching her scream at him and showing no emotional reaction to what she’d said. The silence hung between them for so long that Obsidian had actually started considering taking his advice and just going back, but then he walked over to his bag, brought it back to her, dropped it at her feet and pointed.

“Take that,” he said as he turned and walked out of the bay. She stared at the bag for a minute, hastily picked it up and ran to catch up with the man. Had she known the future torture she would have to endure and the personal cost Obsidian would have run the other way.
Oct 22, 2007 ufoman link
Great writing, Obs. Very, very inspirating... :)
Oct 26, 2007 Obsidian link
She panted slightly as she jogged along side the man. “So what is your name? Where are we going? How will you train me?” she asked as the two traveled through the station corridors. He ignored her questions the entire time they walked. Shortly they reached the docking bay that held his ship, boarded it together and prepared for take off.

They had launched from the bay and were heading to the wormhole when the man grinned malevolently at her. “Who I am is none of your concern. You will accept my commands. You will become my servant. You will be mine. You will call me ‘Master’.”

Obsidian reacted in shock. “I belong to nobody! You cannot own me.”

“Once you asked me to train you, 'Obsidian' stopped existing. You are nothing, you are insignificant. You are the blackness of space. You have no name.” he hissed. “Accept and you will become whole!” He continued to mutter something under his breath that Obsidian could not understand.

In that instance everything stopped for Obsidian. Darkness was all around her and she could hear yells and screams. Suddenly she had visions of people running and stumbling in the dark, fighting for their lives. A long mournful wail began starting quietly and slowly buildin coming from all around her; the sound of millions of souls in pain. The wail became so loud that she began to grasp at her ears. There was a loud "BANG!" and the world seemed to explode into brilliant color as light flashed around her, causing her to shield her eyes.

The pain was almost unbearable, Obsidian grasped onto the arms of her chair, her knuckles turning white, tendons and muscles clenching and bulging under the strain. Just when the pitch of the wail became so intense that she felt as if she would be ripped to pieces it stopped as she fell unconscious.

She felt the metal floor underneath her and slowly opened her eyes to see a scraggly man huddled about ten feet away from her.

“Take this weapon and kill him.” The voice of the master commanded her.

Obsidian looked at the blade he held out in his hand and resisted “No! I will not kill.”

“I see you have not learned your lesson….” He nodded to a younger man at his side. “Cerberus, take her for more education.” Then, looking back at Obsidian “accept and you become whole.”

Cerberus gripped her arm and led her away. When he touched her skin something stirred deep within him reviving feelings that had been repressed by his own training. At his touch Obsidian felt the darkness surrounded her…liquid and oppressive, pulsing with its own black heartbeat. It pressed around her seductively, light as a lovers touch, brushing tender fingers across her skin. The darkness knew her, knew her very soul, as no other ever could. It welcomed her... promised to protect her. Whispering its secrets, it showed her its hidden face. Obsidian screamed and fell limp.

Cerberus wanted to reach out and offer her comfort but he pulled away. He knew the consequences if he showed concern, compassion or any other “weaknesses”. Yet he was filled with an urge to protect this bright-eyed woman.

Obsidian awoke on the cold metal floor acutely aware of the raw skin on her ankle where the shackle had been placed. Wincing at the pain she gingerly moved to sit up, resting her back on the wall.

They had left her there for hours; maybe even days. She had lost track of time and Obsidian wasn’t sure how long her had been enduring the pain. She had been bombarded constantly with images of hurting and destruction, dragged from the cell to be strapped back into that metal chair so the torture could resume.

“Accept” the master’s voice would hiss “become whole.”

Obsidian screamed but it gave her no relief. The pain was so great that she was certain that she was not living anymore. Her body had to have died days ago and she was just a tormented spirit unable to leave these horrors.

She was again dragged out of her cell and taken back to the arena. Another dirty man was cowering in the center of the floor.

“Take this weapon and kill him.” The voice of the master commanded.

Obsidian stared at the blade in the outstretched hand. Jutting out her lower lip, she blew a stream of air across her forehead, lifting the damp tendrils of hair plastered to her skin. She frowned, squeezing her eyes shut. No extraneous thoughts or emotions must intrude as she compelled her body to submit to the dictates of her will, defying both fatigue and the emotional maelstrom that threatened to drag her down.
“No! I will not kill.”

The master clicked his tongue. “Your will is stronger than I thought, but you will eventually accept….” He nodded to Cerberus and Obsidian was swiftly taken from the room.

Cerberus started grabbing for her, his fingertips just barely touching her skin, when the subtle sensations began to spread through her veins, sparking fires deep within, electric currents quickening the blood, heightening the senses further still. She felt the animal stir within, her own inner darkness, waking, stretching; taut muscles ready, the beasts’ predatory power answering the call. Obsidian blacked out and lay still on the floor.

Cerberus wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her that she would be safe but he pulled away. He knew the penalty for showing humanity. He watched over her crumpled form, and noticed that her eyes had dulled as the training progressed.

Darning to show some compassion, Cerberus came to bring her some nourishment. "It's inside me," she tried to explain to him. . "I can feel it crawling. It's eating me. Biting me...” Obsidian looked at Cerberus with vacant eyes and struggled to remember his name… She thought to herself “why can’t I remember his name? How could I spend all this time with him and not recall his name?” Obsidian held her breath, isn’t this more evidence that she was falling apart?

She was again dragged out of her cell and taken back to the arena. A man with a frail body was curled up in the center of the floor.

“Take this weapon and kill him.” The voice of the master commanded.

Obsidian stared at the blade in the outstretched hand. Her fingers twitched, aching to wrap themselves around the hilt. She was alone with her madness; alone with her pain. She grasped it and whispered “What ever you wish, Master.”
Oct 27, 2007 killconie link
ooooo... scary! can i use the /master and make obs do whatever? hmmm... /master obs: kill smittens and sora... kill smittens and sora! (wavery hypnotic voice)
Oct 28, 2007 Obsidian link
Today UPN was on the hunt. Over the years he had established his reputation as a pirate to dread meeting in space. Over and over again traders would pay his fee rather than run because they were well aware of what would happen if they tried to flee. In some ways UPN was disappointed by this renown; it meant that he could go for days without engaging in a fight with a stubborn trader and he missed the combat

When he saw Obsidian’s ship on his scanner he wasn’t really impressed. How could that Axia wraith of hers be anything more than an annoying fly to him? What kind of fight could that runt possibly provide? However this time something was different. Instead of turning tail and running away as fast as her ship could take her, she seemed to be approaching him and even made the first move! He usually wouldn’t bother with such an easy pursuit because a pirate of his prowess needed a worthy target. However, he was intrigued with the reported changes in that kitten of a guide, Obsidian. He had never really thought of her as much of a threat and would humor her futile attempts to intimidate him. UPN would relentlessly tease her on her cargo runs, letting her run for a few sectors before swooping in and taking her ship down. She was nothing more than a bit of fluff to him. However, her hail intrigued him: “I’ll never give my heart to a pirate!”

“Hmm” he mused. “ I wonder what has gotten into her.” UPN pulled up his latest reports and noticed a special bounty had been placed on Obsidian.

*Find Obsidian and see if she'll tell you what is truly in her heart.*

“How interesting” he thought. The credits offered were a paltry sum compared to what he had stashed under various aliases in accounts around the universe. No, money would not be the motivation behind this hunt. Yet, he was drawn to the comment about her heart. Claiming that bounty would be something unique to possess; it would be a precious prize to add to his collection. Yes, Obsidian’s heart would be his.

“Yarr!” He shouted as their ships approached each other. UPN had expected to take a few shots at her, to play with her a bit and than he’d have his prize in a matter of minutes. However, the battle lasted much longer than he had anticipated. Obsidian was dodging his shots adeptly and was actually hitting him back. The battle raged on and UPN felt a strange sensation, fatigue. He was actually becoming a bit tired from the fight! How had she done it? UPN would have to rethink his approach; he was amused that he would finally face a bit of a challenge. This was no longer going to be a job he could do while sleepwalking.

Over the comm. he told her “that was a worthy fight.”

“What do you mean UPN?” she replied.

“I meant just what I said. That was a good fight.”

UPN was done toying with her and was going to get his trophy. He decided to trap her near some asteroids so should couldn’t run. He fired a few times to spook her and when she let loose that first wave of chaos missiles he quickly headed back to the asteroid field. He could see the explosions of the missiles hitting the surface of the large asteroid to the starboard side. He dodged to the left and was planning to surprise her by coming up from behind her ship.

Obsidian had slipped around the port side and was facing him head on. UPN was taken a bit aback at the sight. She had out maneuvered him and was lining up the kill shot. This was an unexpected twist. He saw the blue trails of her unleashed swarms and knew it soon would be all over in a flash of light.

UPN was shocked. Had he just lost to her?

“Obsidian, my dear, that was a good fight.” He told her over the comm and thought to himself “when had this little pussycat grown claws?”
Oct 28, 2007 Obsidian link
“You shot at me and now you have to play by my rules!” came over the radio in Obsidian’s ship. Honor was all that Roda Slane had. He was a devout believer in honorable combat, not unlike the samurai and ninjas of old Earth. He believed in following a certain protocol before engaging in battle. Those that didn’t follow the same customs were ones to be converted and those that resisted detested. Eventually all would be persuaded to use his rules for they were universal truths. “When you run from me, I call you a coward. When you gank me, I call you weak “ No one could deny the universe what it wanted for long.

There was a pilot, a guide, and member of the TGFT council that caught his attention. She wasn’t the best of combat pilots but she had a determination that he admired. However lately there had been a change in her, he was possessed by her presence. She was naive and impertinent at times but there was a underlying force that pulled him. Roda realized his purpose as he calmly contacted her; she had to be taught the way “You weren’t every honorable just now…” he began.

“What do you mean honorable? You attacked me so I fought back. It seems pretty clear to me.” Obsidian retorted.

“Ah, but you didn’t hail first. Principle demands you hail before attacking.”

In a huff she responded, “I didn’t attack you purpose. You got caught in the crossfire. One cannot go into battle and expect to be totally invulnerable to outside forces. When the fog of war comes, everyone will be caught up in the tempest.”

“ What you say about fog of war is true, yet you have a habit of shooting first, and then asking for permission.” If not for the non-aggression treaty with TGFT he’d kidnap her in a heartbeat to claim her as his own.

“What a funny notion, nobility in such an odd setting. Sedina is full of pirates, to demand honor in such an environment seems futile” Obsidian scoffed.

Roda thought, “she was just distracted by her work and the people around her”. If he could capture her, sweep her off her feet and take her away from it all, then she’d see what was meant to be for the two of them.

“Obsidian come, run away with me….” It could not even dawn on him that she would not want someone as noble as himself.

“Roda, you’re a dear and all but, I’m not interested….” She calmly replied.

Obsidian was not ready to be his. Roda knew he could easily snatch her out of the sky and make her see their chosen path. Nevertheless he was honorable and would be patient. Some things are simply meant to be, and no power in the ‘verse can stop them.”
Oct 28, 2007 Obsidian link
John Eldritch was not a pink hearts and fluffy bunnies type of person. He was definitely a dark and stormy night type of story. He had been to the far edges of the universe, the things he had seen would darken any man, and could even drive a person barmy. John was certain he was sane because he knew what was there in his existence. To him the insane ones where the people who spent time taking about nonsense, listening to ‘pop music’, and whiling away time watching videos.

The day he woke up to find himself naked in a bed alone, his whole world turned upside down. He almost immediately began to try and drink himself to death and the better part of a year was spent wallowing in self-pity. About four years ago, he began to push those thoughts away… he was going mad and knew it. Every time he thought of her, he felt like dropping their plan and going back to Nyrius… and still knew that he couldn’t but the smallest things used to send him over the edge. With no one else around… all he had were his thoughts and those memories…

Too much time spent dwelling on the losses in his life had driven him to the bottle. And from the bottle he went to the gutter. It had taken him to the very bottom of existence. Yet if you’ve hit the lowest point possible then you have nowhere to go but up. John had clawed his way out of his depression, gotten sober enough and a battered old trade ship. He became obsessive about transporting cargo becoming one of the most productive traders in the UIT-Itani routes. As long as he kept himself occupied, he mind could not wander into the dark corners. He was now somber, and much more introspective. He knew that the information he had to share would not be appropriate for a lighthearted party chitchat. Yet he needed to stay in the light. He knew how the darkness could destroy him and the people around him. The shadows of his past chased him during the day and closed in at night.

He sensed the shade that had invaded Obsidian and it called also to him. Misery loves company they say, but John thought it was the attraction of like forces. He resisted the siren song of the shadows following her as they tried to strengthen his own darkness. He had tried avoiding her but as a fellow council member it was difficult. Then it struck him; maybe he could finally redeem himself by helping Obsidian avoid traveling the same downward spiral he had once done. He would reach out to her and become her support. At least it could quiet the turmoil inside in heart. Through helping Obsidian maybe he would begin to repay his debt to another.
Oct 28, 2007 Whytee link
Hortan was walking down the empty corridors of TGFT headquarter looking for his new living quarters.
Outfitted in the dark green leggings, fashionable jacket and propeller ball-cap of a TGFT recruit, he was almost feeling at home here. The yellow plush shackles kinda clashed with the rest of the uniform, but they were a gift from LQI, and so he would always wear them. Well, as much at home as any spacestation could ever be for him. If it wasn't for that engine checkup at Moda's, he would prefer to be amongst the roids of Helios. Still, the crew at TGFT supplies had been very nice to him, they had even gone through the trouble of explaining why the only size pants currently in store was one size small, the jacket two sizes big and only the ball-cap with the n00b letters on the propellers was available. Something about some forms that were not filled properly resulting in the small error. They must have been having a good and cheerful day, because as soon as he had left the supply room he heard laughter from within.

It seemed to Hortan that TGFT had a lot of problems with forms, because when he came in for docking, he was not allowed to dock. Apparently he had filled out form 46.7b "Regular Personnel Docking Form" instead of form 46.7c "First Time Regular personnel Docking Form", and so his request for docking had been denied. Fortunately, he had been able to purchase some help from the dockhands in getting that old spare bay farthest away, the one without pressurized docking facilities that nobody ever uses. They even volunteered to look after his stash of Helio Mists for another small fee. Very nice people.

After the docking, he reported to Surbius to get a room. One of the dockhands had lead the way, and for some reason he seemed to have to ask the local network for help even though it was only a few corridors away. Hortan didn't mind paying for the calls, he would have been lost anyway, but he felt that 5000 credits for that small distance was pushing it. Surbius was not there, but there was a large bulging envelope with the name HORTON in large letters on the front. He cringed and picked up the envelope, opened it with the heavy letter opener Surbius for some reason had hanging on the wall, and sighed at all the documents inside. Fortunately there was a keycard as well, labeled D-3-D-48, and it was this this label that had sent him down here to level D, sector 3 looking along corridor D for his room.

As he walked he became aware of a deep sobbing that came from one of the rooms, interrupted by a haunting female voice that called out again and again "please master, please". As the door to the room was slightly ajar, he could see a person lying on the bed inside. Always trying to be helpful, he called out softly to the person inside

"are you ok miss?", but no answer came. He was just about to open the door further when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"ehm, recruit.." he looked at the propeller "recruit n00b is it?, you seem to be lost".

Hortan turned and saw Council Waldoze looking at him with a kind smile under the large mustache. He smartly close the door behind Hortan and so left the sleeping female to her dreams.

"Sir, She seemed to have a nightmare, Sir Council Sir" Hortan blurted, and the smile went up a notch on the face of Waldoze, turning into a real grin.

"Yeah, Obs has a lot of those lately, but don't you worry, she is strong, she can handle it"

"Sir, did you say Obsidian Sir Council Sir?"

"Now, recruit ehm.." he read the shining new green and yellow name tag on Hortans chest, "Horton?, we are not big on the Sir thing here. Maybe you should drop that, ok? Only for the big cheese"

"Will Do Sir, ehm sorry sir, damn..yes" Hortan kept on blabbering

"Now, your room is down there on the left, run along and remember to fill those forms for Surbius", he pointed at the envelope "especially the one regarding request of a foodcard and the one regarding toiletpaper. Those are forms 213-8b "Foodcard First Time Requisition" and 95-34-5T "Lavatory Supplement Requisition" respectively. Otherwise it can get lonely and messy if you know what I mean. And if you want to keep those shackles in that colour, you'd better fill out a 89T-4C REquest for exemption for TGFT colour scheme. I'll be seeing you tomorrow recruit". Walroze winked and left.

Hortan went down to the room and looked at the door. Obviously it had been a while since anybody had been there last, but at least the lock seemed to be in order. He looked at the nametag of his neighbor and was shocked to see that he was going to live next door to the famous trader and council member John Eldritch. He was just about to knock and say hi, but the mere reputation of the famed trader was enough to deter him, and he went inside his small cubicle. Just big enough for a bed, a small table, a synthwood chair and a foldaway bathroom, the room was perfect. And in just the right shade of green too. Hortan was going to feel at home here. He filled out the forms that Waldoze asked him to do, and lay down on his bed tired and full with good impressions of the guild. For tomorrow, he needed to go to the depot and get a blanket that was longer than 1.70 and maybe a pillow that didn't have stains on it, but for now it would have to do. And maybe those right sized pants would have come too, theses ones were really painful in some awkward places. A good thing he had brought his own "Mr. Fluffybunny" nightgown at least. And he had to go down and visit Sir Mr. Estenk and talk to him about his daughter and himself. And he had to...... As he dozed off to sleep only one thing that nagged him the tiniest was the soft murmur from the cubicle next door "must resist, must resist, must resist, must...."

Hortan fell asleep, dreaming happily of his Beloved Queen.
Nov 02, 2007 Aramarth link
Damn, TGFT is almost as bad as joining the Vipers.