[Sept21] Tribble Month 30: Found

Theme: Sacrifices.

Optional prompt: It was the rarest of spices due to the fact that harvesters had a 40% fatality rate. by TuesdayNightCompany.

This is a continuation to [Sept21] Tribble Month 29: A Trusty Dictionary and ends the storyline.


I was trembling when we docked at Feshural. This trip couldn’t end well.

“So, what’s the big deal about this shipment?” Tymon asked.

“It’s one of the rarest spices because the harvesters have a 40% fatality rate due to plant toxins and local predators,” Myrial explained.

“Yikes,” Kanan remarked.

“Hm… I wonder how I’d do, being immortal.” Tymon scratched his chin.
“Tymon, no,” I whimpered. “Don’t.”

Tymon looked at me. “You alright, Bolotseseg? You’re acting strange.”

“I don’t like this place.”

Myrial hummed. “You can stay on the ship. I’ll handle the interpersonal stuff anyway.”

I feared that it wasn’t going to be enough.

When the last man I wanted to see boarded, my fears were confirmed.

He recognized me instantly. “You.”

Our job was now in jeopardy. They wouldn’t let us handle the spices, not with an escaped spice slave onboard. I could either surrender and suffer or make us lose the job — or something worse.

Myrial looked at me. “Trouble?”

My father spoke up, “She is indeed.”

Myrial turned to him. “Then I must ask you to leave the ship. I’ll handle whatever trouble she brings.”

“No. We will handle it our way. That’s why you’re here.”

“I’m sorry?”

My father grinned. “Did you really think a freelancer ship would be allowed to move Devil’s Tongue? No, you’re here because she is with you.” He turned to me. “No one escapes the spice fields forever.” He lifted a device I knew far too well.

I dashed at him to stop him, but I wasn’t fast enough. Explosions and screams took over the deck. I looked at my dying found family and decided that I would not let my blood family take me alive.

I jumped into the explosions around Tymon and Myrial and everything went black for good.

[Sept21] Tribble Month 29: A Trusty Dictionary

Challenge: Write a 369er and use at least one of these in each section: shoe box, tea cup, goldfish, magic wand, paint, dictionary, treadmill, bouncy house, wrench, peanut.

This is a continuation to [Sept21] Tribble Month 28: In the Dark.


I looked at my dictionary to find some words I could use to make myself clearer. I had to get this confession right, and getting it right meant carefully preparing it with my trusty dictionary in hand. Even if it was at night when everyone else was sleeping and the only light I had came from the crescent moon.

I had to get it right, somehow. I had to.


I sighed as I set my dictionary aside. It had served me well during the years of learning the crew’s lingua franca and, perhaps even more importantly, it had served me well as a weapon even after dropping it and throwing it at intruders and other threats had blunted its corners. It was heavier than my heart still.

I had to get the confession right. Tymon had to understand.


I hadn’t expected to need my dictionary after hearing about our next job; I thought that those days were already long-gone and checking words was more about paranoia making me make sure that I did understand correctly — I almost always did — than genuinely not understanding.

When I understood that we were heading near my home, I froze. Suddenly, we were going back there.

Shit. I was going back there.

[Sept21] Tribble Month 28: In the Dark

Theme: In the Dark.

Optional prompt: “Some activities are better done without prying eyes.” by SarcasticCupcake5.

This is a continuation to [Sept21] Tribble Month 27: Life Advice.


Shiro grumbled somewhere on the ship when we docked after nightfall and let a hooded stranger in.

“Do you have what I asked for?” the stranger asked Myrial.

As an answer, Myrial opened the coffer. “Here they are.”

The stranger inspected the art supplies for a while. “Excellent. These will make excellent nightly paintings.”

“Why do you want to paint at night? It’s so dark it’s hard to see,” Tymon asked.

The stranger turned to him and grinned, allowing sharp teeth to show from under the hood. “Some activities are better done without prying eyes.”

Tymon nodded and everyone left it at that. We got paid for finishing the haul and left as soon as we could.

I sincerely hope that I will have to never meet that guy again.

[Sept21] Tribble Month 27: Life Advice

Theme: The Tropiest of Tropes.

Optional prompt: The very personification of “hold my beer.” by Mxtress.

This is a continuation to [Sept21] Tribble Month 26: Art Supplies.


“And this guy, the very personification of ‘hold my beer’ as he was, handed his beer to me and made the bungee jump like it was nothing.” I rolled my eyes.

“Must’ve been a cool guy to hang out with.” Tymon scratched his chin. “Maybe I should do that too.”

“No!” Bolotseseg said. “Please don’t, Tymon. You could get badly hurt.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t recommend it either, even for an immortal,” I remarked as Kuro grumbled next to me. “The guy was absolutely infuriating, latching onto every single challenge he came across. It was fun to dare him to do stupid stuff at first, but it got old. I suggest you don’t annoy your friends with that.”

“Huh. Makes sense.” Tymon nodded. “Thanks, Kanan.”

[Sept21] Tribble Month 26: Art Supplies

Theme: School Stories.

Optional prompt: “I’ve had so many unhinged old women teach me how to oil paint.” by WizardandGalaxy.

This is a continuation to [Sept21] Tribble Month 25: Curses.


“What does even make those art supplies so special, aside from being taken from a crypt and some creeps cursing you over getting it?” one of the twins, Hif, asked.

“Are they magic?” the other twin, Umi, added.

“No, they’re normal art supplies. They just happened to belong to a well-known artist… or an artist the person we will deliver them to cared about,” Myrial explained.

“Huh. So anyone can just pick them up and use them?” Tymon asked.

“Yup,” Myrial told.

“Well, as long as it’s not for oil painting, I’m fine with them,” I muttered to my parrots.

“Why’s that?” Tymon asked.

I sighed. “Well, let’s just say that I’ve had so many unhinged old women teach me how to oil paint. And more insanity in the boarding school I went to,” I explained.

“Oomph, boarding schools are the worst,” Hif noted.

“Yup,” Umi seconded. “We’ve seen lots of nutcases there. Wanna swap school stories?”

I shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

[Sept21] Tribble Month 25: Curses

Theme: Curses, Crypts, and Creeps.

Optional prompt: He wiped the ooze from his chin. by SarcasticCupcake5.

This is a continuation to [Sept21] Tribble Month 24: Memories of the Lost.


The man who met us at the harbor of the crypt city of Furida wiped ooze from his chin. Shiro chittered; he was probably just as disgusted as I was.

“What’s up with him?” Tymon asked.

“A curse,” the man explained. “Was retrieving this,” he gestured to the coffer he had brought, “from a crypt when some creeps attacked me from behind. Been dripping this sludge since then.”

“How do you get rid of that?” Bolotseseg asked.

“Can you even get rid of that curse?” Myrial asked.

The man shifted. “My employer’s talking with some curse-breakers here. Might have to go to Livergreen if they can’t help.”

“I hope yours can be broken.” Myrial grimaced. “I know a few things about unbreakable curses.”

The man struggled for words for a moment before pointing at Myrial, asking, “Cursed?”

Myrial nodded. “I can’t be referred to with pronouns by anyone else except myself, and even then just with I.” Our captain shrugged. “I’ve come to accept it as a punishment for what happened.”

So that’s why it was so weird to talk about Myrial at the beginning.

“Huh. That explains.” The man scratched his chin and wiped the ooze that stuck to his fingers to a handkerchief. “Hope for the best.” He handed the money to Myrial. “Best of sails to you.”

Myrial nodded, accepting the money. “Thank you. Best of all to you.”

[Sept21] Tribble Month 24: Memories of the Lost

Theme: The Best Laid Plans.

Optional prompt: The other survivors turned to her for leadership, not recognizing her grief. by CassidyPeterson.

This is a continuation to [Sept21] Tribble Month 23: A Would-Be Contract.


I walked to Myrial’s quarters to report that the ship was functioning and ready to depart. However, when I got there, I noticed my captain looking at old photos I had seen only once before: photos of the old crew, Heyiadl just like Myrial.

I don’t know what happened to that crew for things to go so bad; Myrial has never talked about it. I’m not even certain if anyone even recognized the grief losing the crew like that brought. I know that there were survivors who turned to Myrial for leadership, but where they went or if they even survived all the way to the end, I’m not sure.

I cleared my throat.

Myrial jumped and, upon seeing me, slammed the album shut. “Kanan. Anything to report?”

“All systems clear. We’re ready to depart,” I reported.

Myrial smiled as if unburdened by the memories brought up by lost fellows. “Excellent. I now know where we’re going next.”

Oh. So that’s why Kuro was grumbling outside earlier. She probably had a feeling that this was not the best-laid plan Myrial had come up with.

[Sept21] Tribble Month 23: A Would-Be Contract

Theme: Massive Internal Dialogue.

Optional prompt: Let me just start by saying, I am a fraud. by SpearHawk.

This is a continuation to [Sept21] Tribble Month 22: Moving Forward.


Kuro, Shiro and I watched as Myrial tore our would-be contractor a new one.

“Well? What is your explanation for this garbage?!” Myrial yelled.

The would-be contractor shriveled and started, “Let me just start by saying, I am a fraud.”

“Tell us what we don’t already know,” Myrial scoffed.

When the yammering started, I zoned out. My parrots would let me know if there was something important to be known.

How’s Ingolf doing?

Why do you even care? He tried to kill your crewmate, and definitely seemed unhinged when it all came undone.

He was nice to me, Shiro and Kuro, y’know.

Well, you weren’t his target, were you?

No, I guess not. Still, Myrial put him through quite the wringer.

As was written in the contract which he knowingly broke.

Yeah… Still, I-

Shiro cawed. I shook myself out of the zone I had ended up into and started paying attention. The would-be contractor was lying on the deck — dead or unconscious, I didn’t know which — and Myrial was giving out orders.

Kuro spoke up, “Ah shit.”

Shiro continued, “Here we go again.”

I affirmed, “Ah shit, here we go again indeed.”

[Sept21] Tribble Month 22: Moving Forward

Challenge: Two animals (other than humans and aliens) must be involved in the story.

This story is a continuation to [Sept21] Tribble Month 21: Blame.

Today and yesterday’s stories were delayed because I got the challenge late. However, I’ll be posting both yesterday’s and today’s stories shortly.


My parrots and I — and, frankly, the rest of the crew too — watched as Myrial and the twins returned without Ingolf.

“How’d it go?” Tymon asked.

“Ingolf isn’t getting out of jail anytime soon,” Myrial told, grinning. “Too bad. I was planning for more things, but guess you can’t do everything.”

I shuddered at the thought of what more our captain might have planned in addition to putting the man through.

Both Shiro and Kuro cawed complaints about my movement.

“Sorry, you two.” I reached out to pet both of the parrots — easy since they were both, for once, perched on my shoulders. I turned to Myrial. “Where will we head next?”

Myrial turned to me. “Good question, Kanan. I’m not entirely sure yet, but we might go for a delivery next. I’m still negotiating with someone in the harbor about it.”

A delivery sounded good to me, so I nodded.

Kuro and Shiro made some voices of agreement as well.

Things were probably getting better from here.

[Sept21] Tribble Month 21: Blame

Theme: Multi-genre Mania.

Optional prompt: “She twisted her arm into its socket until the magnets aligned.” by SarcasticCupcake5.

This is a continuation to [Sept21] Tribble Month 20: Intense Emotions.


I roared as someone — two someones — tore me away from the fucker, who was now lying on the deck looking like he had not seen me coming. Maybe the fucker hadn’t; he had so little concern for other people, that asshat.

“That’s enough,” Myrial said. “Ingolf, you’ve gone far enough.”

Struggling against the two brutes holding me — the Hifumi twins — I shrieked, “And you’re just as bad as him! You don’t even know Lyra! She started disassembling herself! Can you imagine how that looked?!” I took a few ragged breath. “I had to coax her into reassembling herself after it. Do you even know what Wolfden cybernetics are like?” I shuddered. “The clicks… when she twisted her arm into its socket until the magnets aligned and got them into their place… it sounded more like breaking her arm off than putting it back… And she kept doing that.”

“If all Tymon did was break up with her, you have no right to assault him.” Myrial’s voice was so level, so calm, so much in control that it made me angrier.

“You don’t know anything, do you?!” I yelled. “Where even is your old crew, huh, Heiyadl?! Where are they now, death’s grip?! Where did you put them out of their misery?!”

Myrial stayed quiet for a while before speaking up, “I see you can’t be reasoned with. I’m turning you in, both for attempting to kill Tymon and for assaulting him now. Speak once more about my past fellows and I will add disgracing their memory to the list of charges.” With a nod to the twins, Myrial turned. “Let’s get taking the trash out over with.”