Welcome to the Journal of Now and Forever. This Journal is a collection of my Star Control and Star Control 2 fiction. Note: Some of this material is, by necessity, extrapolation from the slim information provided by canon sources.

New fiction is posted first at My Livejournal before it appears here. This story is in response to 15 Minute Ficlets' Challenge #50.

There was no beauty in it this time.

It hurt to breathe. He kept his eyes closed, because if he opened them then he would see the carnage around him, and he didn't want to see what was left of the crew. What was left. He was the only one left alive. Not whole, it hurt to breathe deeply, and he didn't want to move. But he was the only one alive in this ship.

He felt sick, and tried to even his breathing. There had been no rush of ecstasy as the Revanche entered hyperspace this time – whether his mental state, or physical, was to blame, he didn't know. And now the pulsing of energies looked more like wet red flesh, insides of blood vessels, pumping energies to the greater body of the universe.

He knew his own body was running out of energy.

It was three days' travel by hyperspace, and for the first time in his life he'd switched on the autopilot for Eta Vulpeculae. Any other time, he would control it, micromanage it. Part of his mind said he could still do it, that it would keep him busy, but another part wanted him to just curl up slightly in his chair and drift off and not come back.

Colm and Cory and Will and the rest – they're all dead, in various stages of parts. Cory is still strapped into the chair next to him, and Otto doesn't even want to know how or why Cory died. He'd looked fine when he'd strapped in, and then they'd blasted through an Earthling cruiser while in cometform, and taken some hits and went into hyperspace and run. And then Otto had looked over and spoken, and Cory hadn't responded, and after a while it was obvious Cory was dead.

He was the only one left.

~ ~ ~

After the first day his stomach rebelled. He ignored it as long as possible, then gave up and forced himself up out of the chair, forced his eyelids open, tried to not focus on anything so that he might not see the damage done. The foodpacks were untouched, and he'd eaten enough to quiet his system; then back to the chair, but this time he watched the quarks flitting about, and the boiling.

He wondered if the ecstasy was gone for good. If so, he should stop being a pilot. Otto was not religious by nature, so he couldn't think it was a punishment; just a quirk of fate...

*poor sad animals*

Otto woke with a start. A voice! But they – he – were still in hyperspace, and ships couldn't communicate in hyperspace –

*party is so frumple! so many dancing*

The voice was a rich, full, woman's voice, full of laughter. It scared the hell out of him. He started to speak, changed his mind, his mouth was dry as velvet.

The voice continued its nonsense chatter, and even with his ears covered Otto couldn't keep it out of his head.

Comments? Email me: laridian at aol dot com