thank you to @cinder-rellish181 for the tag!! While writing spacegate, I discovered an absolute love for writing action sequences, which is pretty good when you're writing a space opera inspired by Firefly lmao. So here's a self-indulgent extract from my most recent chapter when our heroes travelled to the mysterious secret space station, Moonrise Tower.
Vi and Gale ran through the office where every screen was ablaze with blinding white light, so they peered through the cracks of their hands half-blind, crashing into desks and chairs with grunts of pain.
/ I am the smile of the worm-cleansed skull /
In the break room, the gas cooktop clicked and whirred, and Vi tasted sulfur. The explosion flung them into a corridor, so close and hot sweat beaded the back of her neck, her flyaway hairs crackling and burning. They kept running.
/ I am the regrets of those who remain /
Vi gasped as they stumbled through an archway and were blasted with the dank air of an open space. They sprinted between blue paint lines of the athletic track, cutting across a huge, stark white training centre.
/ and the restlessness of those who are gone /
The security cameras swung to watch as they ran past wooden beams and human target boards and the line of clay pigeon shooters. Right as Vi noticed them, red light glowed like coals from their centres, the long barrel arms juddering into position. The chambers clinked. She knew the rattle of bullets anywhere.
“GET COVER!”
Ketheric’s voice vanished behind the staccato thunder of machine guns. Vi tasted blood again as her chin clocked the hardwood, landing on her injured stomach and yelling in pain. But as she scrambled against the cluster of dummies, shoulder to shoulder with a panting Gale, she saw smoking holes blooming on the opposite wall, but not in her. Not in him. Not today.
The central column climbing wall was a few feet away – but with the unrelenting hailstorm in between whipping her hair and stinging her skin even from here, it may as well be a mile. Was there a big enough gap above the floor –
Three beeps, followed by the click of an empty barrel. After her promotion, she’d run training sessions. There was always one machine that stopped first.
“Come on!”
All the barrels dropped as a new round of bullets chambered. Vi dashed across the great divide with Gale in tow, they had only five seconds –
/ I am the haunt of mausoleums /
She skidded behind the climbing wall as the first machine, the beeper, whirred upright again, and looked back to see Gale slip on the polished floor, meeting her gaze with pure terror.
“Vi –”
He dove forward screaming as the assault began anew, and rolled to hit her legs, curled and gasping. Vi’s hands were all over him, patting, feeling, heart rate going nuclear.
“Where –”
“My leg –”
He pulled his wet gloves away. A tear in the thick spacesuit canvas at the edge of his thigh wept blood, but a gash, not a hole – surface level. Gale groaned as she dug into her pocket.
“Duct tape. It should staunch the bleeding – for now.” She thrust it into his hands when she heard the beep again. “Stay here.”
/ the general of graves and age /
She surged to the edge of the artificial rock and stepped out as the machines reloaded again, scanning the far wall – four three two – and spotted her prey. When she ducked behind cover, Gale had crawled to a seat. Vi paused in checking the rounds in her pistol.
“I’m fine, I –” His gloved fingers were fumbling, unable to find the lip of the tape. Sweat sheened his forehead.
She tore off her glove with her teeth as she dropped to her knees and took over without a word. Three quick rips of tape later, the hole in the spacesuit was sealed. Vi replaced her glove.
“Can you still –”
“Yes.” He seized her hand over her gun. “Yes.”
Gale met her worried gaze, and for a moment, Vi forgot everything. The roar of the machine guns deadened. The shake of adrenaline coursing through her veins simmered and steadied. Those endless brown eyes burned to look upon her again, red-hot with something more than desire, even fiercer than survival. Absolute, unwavering faith – in her.
Seconds passed; they stayed like that. Then she heard the beep.
If you enjoyed this snippet of insanity, check out the rest of To Rattle the Stars on AO3. I can promise party banter and epic space adventure and astrophysicist Doctor Gale Dekarios on his knees, a lot.
gentle tags for the gang @theendofanerror @fireflyeyes @dr4gonwriter @optimisticgrey and open to all! Also, if we're mutuals and you want to be tagged in future stuff, hit ya girl up!
