dream of smoke and lies

Captain’s log 799M41…somewhere between Port Wander and footfall.
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> For the first time in a few weeks, “intendant Silverthorn” laid back and breathed. A real breath, from someone who can finally rest his head for a while…and long overdue at that. Floating in the captain’s command sphere, Larsh found his almost empty bridge oddly relaxing…the whirr of servitors, the quiet chatter of the remaining watch officers, the off-green glow of the diode screens…it was almost enough. Ruining it was the not-quite sickness in the pit of his stomach, the not-quite movement seemingly seen outof the corner of one’s eyes…all because of where they were. In transit…riding the warp…fuck. “Better than sex” she had said. That crazy bitch. That crazy hot horny fucking bitch…our lifes are all in her hands now!
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> All those toughts ran wild in Larsh’s head, as cloying and hazy as the cloud of smoke surrounding him. The smoke. First rising, then spinning. It started to make a slow whirl…turning and turning in long tendrils all coming to one. As the bridge seemed to go darker, the stars could be seen…cold, dead stars glimmering in a storm universe. The smoke. It is all going in the dark…the dark waiting at the center…that terrible dark…but no…something is missing in the tendril of smoke. A hole that was made by a thief long ago. Larsh can feel his bones and blood wanting to go there…to fill that gap around the darkness and finally be at rest…yes be with the dark…
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> Larsh jerked awaked on his chair, his fingers burned from the cigarette he just dropped. Thatwas weird…but an image is etched in his mind: A dark disk surrounded by tendrils of smoke…making a wheel, all towards the center.
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> Fucking warp.
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dream of smoke and lies

A Thorn in the side SimonLitalien SimonLitalien