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Dinui walked into the headquarters, slinging her rifle over her shoulder. She walked up to the front desk, taking her helmet off. She looked around for someone, waving down a NCR trooper, who looked at her strangely before walking over to her. "How can I help you, ma'am?" He asked, looking at her.
Dinui wore her red hair short, most of it in a bun. Her green eyes looking at the young man, barely out of his teens, looking back at her, staring at her. "I am looking for a Major Knight. Sergeant Foley told my captain and I to check in with him. The captain is cleaning up his armor from the fire fight we helped your men out." Dinui said, resting her hands on the counter.
"You're the one's Foley was talking about. Alright." The trooper said, he pulled out bag from under the counter full of what sounded like to Dinui scrap metal. "Two hundred caps as payment. Our standard reward for aiding the troopers in the area. And Major Knight will be back tomorrow, so com back then."
Dinui opened the ba
Crash: IntroThere was a flash as the small Mandalorian fighter blasted from hyperspace. It tumbled, drifting towards a planet covered mostly by oceans, but very little trace of green. The fighter was damaged from a space battle, and they made an emergency hyperspace jump, all too close to a dying star. The stars gravity pulled them into a slingshot as they made the hyperspace jump. It sent them away from Mandalore, where they wanted to go and into the Unknown Regions.
"Venku, I am getting some strange readings. We aren't in the Mandalore Sector." Venku's co-pilot said, reading the scanners. "And we're trapped in that planet's gravitational pull, we drifted too close to have the time to fix anything."
"Not like we have the abilities anyways. We need a starport or a star dock to fix the damage, Dinui." Venku said, trying to restart the engines. "The engines are out, but I have the thrusters still. Life support is going out, too. Seal your armor, I am going to use what oxygen we have left to adjust o
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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