Ending The Dance

“So how does this end?”

I went to take a deep breath, to give myself time to think, but cut myself off when I felt my throat brush the blade she held.

“I think… I think it can end well for both of us…”

My voice was slow, steady, trying to portray the confidence that had vanished from me moments before. She chuckled once, softly, moving her knife closer.

“How so?”

I met her gaze.

“We forget our issues, turn around, and take out every motherfucker outside.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I-“

Her hand moved slightly away, and I struck.

Levels Of Skill

Everyone who I trusted in the field had spent year after year honing their craft, except one.

The Swordswoman had spent a decade with her steel, making it dance at her command.

The Mystic had spent thrice that studying the magicks, and was able to alter reality without his brain consumed by demons.

The Disciple was constantly studying his texts to better communicate with his deities, the Looter kept up with all the various locks and then…

He couldn’t really fight, but if my back was against the wall, he’d be who I’d choose to help.

His luck is amazing…

Rare Earth Matches

There's a race from Yunotha who communicate via photosynthetic glowing patches of skin. Humanity developed a hand-held translation screen, no issues.

The Gronithans, the species that built their society on being olfactory? A human is their most popular composer, not to mention their most beloved comedian is also human.

Again and again, as humanity explored the galaxy, they worked out how to communicate and get along with every race they met.

Except one.

The Emigort look almost identical to humans, their languages have similar rules... Is being similar the problem?

Or maybe it's all the minerals their home planet contains...

Tap, Tap, Tap

Tap, tap, tap.

One lone finger, moving up and down, gently hitting the table.

Tap, tap, tap.

There were other sounds in the office, sure, but this one…

Tap, tap, tap.

This was somehow quieter than the ticking clock, the hum of the computer, the squeak of my chair, and yet also…

Tap, tap, tap.

Loud enough to make all those other familiar sounds fade away.

Tap, tap, tap.

Until just it remained, filling my mind with the dull, repetitive sound.

Tap, tap, tap.

I got up, and went over to the coffee maker.

Tap, tap, smash, scream, stab, silence…