#wss366 #MastoPrompt
Return to the FATE GEAR
Chapter 11: It’s life, Jim—but not as we know it
#FanFiction #OthersidePicnic #FateGear #StarTrek
Things grew quieter after Beni announced what was for dinner. There were a few grumbles in the mess about the half-ration of grog, but the stew was warm and filling. It was much better than the maggoty biscuits, #spoiled potatoes, or the greasy #quagmire of pea soup they were used to. All-in-all the FATE GEAR’s crew was content.
In unison, the crew let their cutlery fall and sighed in pure pleasure. Benimori had become a favorite—(not as a dish, but as a cook).
Toriko had earned their respect by decking the purser for pinching her butt. (The purser may have mistaken her for a dish—the succulent kind, not the radish; perhaps a peach, a port belle, or a topgallant lass.)
Sorawo, on the other hand, was close to being keelhauled for the number of times she spilled stew on someone.
It wasn’t her fault; the FATE GEAR rolled suddenly every time her ladle was in midair.
(“That be fer yer cracks about me last time ye were here,”) the ship muttered. (“Think ye be a pirate? Ye’re nothing but a mess hall horny toad.”)
No one dared correct the ship, reminding it that this was a steampunk vessel, not a B-Western prairie schooner. Any of the crew who crossed the FATE GEAR were spoiling for trouble.
Meal done, the crew filed out onto the deck as a carousel whistle piped, “All hands on deck.”
Above them glowered a planet smoking in the sun’s heat. And beyond that was a black-hole, its amoebic edges undulating, as though lifted from a steerage-quality scifi film.
(“It’s life, Jim—but not as we know it,”) the FATE GEAR announced in a thick Glaswegian burr.
“That’s enough out of you, Scotty,” Yuri typed. “This be pulp steampunk, not Star Trek. Now hoist the gens—we’re gonna need a hunnert knots an’ more to clear Mercury’s stern, or she’ll drag us into her maw!”
(“I’m givin’ her all she’s got, Cap’n!” the ship retorted. “But the etheric coils are about ready to burst their corsets!”)
Sorawo overheard Nana grumble, “We don’t have etheric coils, and the corsets are just for show.”
She sympathized until Nana turned her evil eye on the Otherside duo and vented her ire on them. “Get to yer positions, you scurvy bilge-rats,” pointing to the rigging high above.
“Aye, Aye, Ma’ma. Beam us up, Scotty,” Toriko quipped.
Sorawo kicked her in the shins. “Pirates is bad enough; don’t go mixing in Trek-ese.”
#TootFic #Serial #NMPrompts #NMV366 #NMMP
#UraPi #Steampunk #Pirates #Metal #JMetal #Satire #ReturnToTheFateGear #NMRTTFG
@fanfiction