Я сегодня была уверена, что пойду в класс без домашки. Я болею, меня колбасит, я на парацетамоле. Я хотела написать 100 слов, и ни одним больше. Но включила песню на задание - и провалилась в пучины космического пиф-пафа. Вощем, я написала продолжение вот этой сцены с Картером в космосе... Серединку, где бандиты набивают Брайану щи, я сюда сливать не буду, там пока ещё не всё ясно по технологическим решениям. Там совсем-совсем черный драфт. А вот кусочек с POV Картера, который опять жрёт стеклишко за обе щёки - вот, пожалуйста.

🛸🛸🛸

"Don't look," Carter whispered to the kid shaking on his bunk.

He stood in the centre of the room, beam splitters pointing light rays at him, as if he was part of the holotransmission, his body — a giant screen, playing a horror movie of his best friend, the love of his life, about to get ripped to shreds. . . .

Carter shut his eyes. He was not ready to accept it . . . He can't die. . . .  He cannot, he must not! Not now! Fuck! Fuck! Just as they were living the dream! Is this fate? Is it illegal for Carter to be happy for a change? No, not fate. Just you, fucking coward. Supposed to be there with him, not locked in a bunker with а four-year-old! Open your eyes, you chickenshit!

He bit his lip. Swallowed the pain, sighed and made himself do it. Look at Brian hovering above the docks, surrounded, locked in the crosshairs. Looked at his pale face, and the faint flickers of his shield. It was gonna exhaust itself any second now. Carter fought a bout of nausea. Please, not now! Not like this. Not after everything that finally, fucking finally, happened between them. Whatever the fuck it was.

Brian's giggly voice echoed from the speaker above them. He chuckled, "Imma be late for dinner tonight. . . . Don’t miss me, guys!"

Carter made himself watch. His heart thrummed in his throat. Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump.

Well, then he fell from the fucking sky, like a goddamn shooting star, because of course he did! Riding the same kind of hoverboard, only his manoevres were ten times better! His gravitational tango, the swift and deadly finesse of it. . . . The way his liquid light blade flashed at each strike, leaving a dazzling trail of chopped limbs, heads, and smoked metal debris.

"WOW! Who's that?" Keyroh shouted, jumping off his bunk, his toy robots clanking after him. "That must be uncle Brian's ex! Look at his speed! Never seen anyone fight like that!"

The tauri took down five riders, like it was nothing! The rest fell back behind Orbit 1. Oh, it made Carter's blood boil! Seeing Brian beam like a beacon, his cheeks redden, as he whispered, "Oh, fuck, I needed a hand! Thanks, Lei!"

Carter watched them glide against each other, as the tauri ran his fingers over Brian's belt, casually clicking-releasing the empty battery crystals, swapping them with a new pair. The swift habitual intimate motion. Click, click, they fit in the battery slots. Two seconds, no more, and zzzzzing! Brian's shield flashed anew. Carter bit the inside of his cheek. He was sick of the very way Brian smiled at the alien, before sliding sideways, ready for more action. Carter hated it. Their swift murderous choreography, and the battle rattle, as they chased the runaways and finished them off, cheering.

"THAT’S IT, SUGAR! SHOOT ‘EM DEAD!"

Just like that. Daeh fucking Lynn saved the day and all of their lives. How very nice and knightly of him, may he burn in hell. Carter froze. He shouldn’t. . . . He should be feeling relieved! Instead, he pictured the tauri dead, his beaming orange eyes turned to pale stones, his glimmering lavender skin rotting, and his tight muscly arms and those full fucking hips separated from his sexy torso. Carter clenched his fist. Damn!

"I was there before you came. . ." he whispered under his breath. "And I’ll be there after you go. Fucking watch me."

🛸🛸🛸

#StarpunkAlphaCentauri
#StarpunkWriting