Cosmonogic

Chp. 1: Space Battle

"Nex, love, launch the fighters will you?" Rake teased his dirty-blond comrade seated across from him in his battle-torn armor. Nex simply looked annoyed, a familiar expression he often wore.

"Shouldn't we be setting the coordinates to anywhere but here?" Nex offered instead, glancing through the window beside their table at the vast starlit-space beyond their ship. Even in their massive starcruiser, the space travelers seemed like nothing more than a speck floating in the endless void that surrounded them. Dread began to gnaw at him.

Rake looked at the same window only to notice his own spine-tingling reflection. A madman with a pale complexion and unkempt, black hair stared back at him. His grimy, tattered clothing and missing shoes didn't help his image much. He turned back to Nex, oblivious to the empty expression on his face.

"The engines are down. We got hit by some rogue discharge. I wouldn't worry though, Moxin told me they should be up and running within an hour," Rake paused, noticing his comrade's distress. "Come on, we've dealt with worse, probably," Rake hesitated, noticing Nex's lack of reaction. On a sudden whim, he leapt over his side of the table and snatched Nex's blaster right out of it's holster.

Nex's head whipped around. "Would you give that back?" Nex swiftly yanked the weapon out of Rake's hands, causing him to stagger backwards. Rake then managed to situate himself back in his seat, only to be met with an agitated glare from his partner. It's better for him to be mad at me than to be in whatever depressive state he was getting himself into. Rake masked a grin and lapped down some of his Reaver Juice; a bit of it missed his mouth, and oozed down his neck but he didn't mind.

Nex, on the other hand, did. How much more revolting can you get? Nex was growing tired of Rake and his schemes. He sipped on his cup of iced coffee and sighed. "How do you even get us into these messes?"

"Not a clue," Rake answered as he gulped down the last of his Reaver Juice, and climbed up out of their booth.

"So how about it?" Rake got straight to the point. As he spoke he opened his hand, streamlining his sword, Dawnblade, directly into his waiting hand.

"Well I'm not going to make our chances of dying worse," Nex reluctantly answered as he hoisted himself out of the booth as well. Placing his blaster back in its holster, he began heading to the double doors that lead out of their improvised staff lounge.

"Good man." Rake caught up with him and patted his shoulder as an intended act of reassurance. Nex merely shrugged his hand off and continued walking out of their casual meeting place. Once in the corridors, he began running at a steady pace towards his quarters to pick up some gear.

That stupid, reckless idiot. Nex boiled with anger as he ran down the cluttered corridors, evading the larger stacks of "loot" they had collected. Such a mess. Then again, why was he so surprised? With so many people on one starcruiser, it was a marvel that no one bothered to organize it. On the other hand, people probably did, then gave up when they realized it was hopeless.

Nearly everything on their ship, Astrocruiser, was made of "commandeered" materials as Rake preferred to call them. It was difficult to make anything look consistent when you had stolen a bit of everything, especially with someone like Rake as captain.

Once he arrived at his chambers, Nex typed in a four-digit keycode and walked inside. He unlatched his helmet from the wall and paused to take in the cramped quarters. Besides a sagging, narrow bunk bed, there was just enough room for a night stand and a built-in desk. Rake had offered him a larger, more luxurious room on several occasions, but over the years he had grown attached to this one. Exiting his room, he placed the helmet on his head.