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 #71.

At least the rain had stopped. That was about the only good thing that had happened to me today. I couldn't even get to the door of my living quarters without stumbling. If I followed a religion I suppose I'd have to say God or someone was out to get me, but instead I chalked it up to just the worst day of my life since I'd come to this planet.

My wrist hurt, but at least it was functional. Swollen, but functional. My temper was in fine, functional state too, after dealing with those two idiots who insisted the broken hinges on their door couldn't possibly have been their fault.

All I wanted now was to change out of wet clothes, find anything to rub on my wrist – even olive oil – get something to eat after a day of three damp biscuits and two pickled eggs, and go to sleep. And maybe birch about the whole thing to Dean just to get it out of my system.

So imagine my surprise when I opened the door and saw Dean had company, about half a dozen of them. I probably could've lived with it even then – it's not like I had a chance to contact him all day to let him know how crappy everything had gotten – except that they were all standing up, holding their books, and Dean was talking in Latin and moving his hands in some kind of, I don't know, benediction or something.

I think we all startled each other. I know I didn't look good, and I certainly didn't feel good, and I was in no mood for what I suspected was going on.

"What the hell's this?" I snarled.

Dean blinked at me a bit and said, "I'm... holding mass. Sort of. Nick – "

I didn't hear the rest because I drowned him out. I really outdid myself with invective. Mostly Arabic, some Farsi, some other stuff I'd picked up here and there. I barely noticed the rest of the prayer group hightailing it out of there, and I didn't care who heard me.

Dean had the sense to close the door behind them, and then he just let me yell for a while. It wasn't even all about him – I'd just had it completely by then. But it's hard to keep up the venom when the other person won't respond, so by and by I faltered and then just sat down in the chair and buried my head in my arms.

I didn't know what to say. Now that I'd had my outburst, I was mortified – I should've been better than that. It wasn't his fault I'd had a horrible day. But he was going to get us in real trouble if he wanted to form a church or something. Some Androsynth were actively anti-religion, and I didn't want Dean to get himself – or me – in trouble. I didn't know how to say all that, how to say I was sorry for the whole mess I'd just created.

I felt his hand on my shoulder, then he left and made some tea in the kitchen – I wasn't watching, but it doesn't take much to figure out what certain sounds are. I didn't lift my head until he came back with the tea, because I didn't want to look him in the face.

"So," he said, sitting down. "Bad day?"

"Yeah," I sighed, taking the cup and holding it in my hands for warmth. "You could say that."

Comments? Email me: laridian at aol dot com