Skeleton Crew — A Dark Steampunk Story

Skeleton Crew

by

Venom

—

~Chapter Two~

The Crew

It was not the heavy smell of machinery, not that of oil and heat. Lucy hobbled the vertical ladder down into the ship’s innards, along a cascade of brass lines. At intervals arrays of valves came into reach, and gauges appeared before her. Some pointers danced across their off-white dials, whilst others remaining in stoic stagnancy. And still the atmosphere wafting through this murky shaft was akin to that in a clock tower, not to the odour of ever-churning machine halls.

Ponygirl Vet — Part Four of Seven and a Half

Ponygirl Vet

Part 4 of 7½

With her view on the whip significantly altered by her experience between the taming posts, the treatment of her hooved patients had undergone changes as well. A believer in holistic approaches, Vera hadn’t been content with tending to the bloody stripes on a ponygirl’s body anymore. To become a better pony shouldn’t simply mean to fear the lash, but to grow in one’s abilities, so corporal intervention would be rendered obsolete for the majority of situations. Not every handler warmed up to Vera’s outlandish philosophy equally, and the veterinarian suspected Blondie to be a particularly reluctant scholar.

“Gooood filly…” Vera reassured as she made true of her promise and opened Applejuice’s reverse prayer bondage.

Stand-Alone Complex

The following narration is a commission from Suspension Guy, a constant reader who had asked for an interrogation story set in the HardSkill universe. I have received word that he is well pleased with the result, and I hope to get similar feedback from other readers, too.

 

Stand-Alone Complex

Muriel hadn’t seen the punch to her neck coming. The grunt behind it was big enough to send her spinning into the nearest strut. The impact hadn’t only shattered her night vision goggles, but also had forced what air she had left out of her lungs.

Muriel was in serious trouble.

The guards had caught her on the mechanical level of the AReFa main building. And they hadn’t been on patrol duty. The company mercs had waited for her. Whilst two of them were holding Muriel subdued in collaborative joint locks, a third steel-trapped her wrists in rigid handcuffs. Before hauling her back up on her feet, her broken NV gear was replaced by a tight hood shutting out all light and most sounds – surely nothing a common security bloke would bring to his nightly round.

Pony Boot Camp — Part Sixteen

The Doctor Is In

It wasn’t the same room as yesterday. It had the same homey morgue ambience, though. As I was waiting for the lady doctor, daintily shifting my weight from one aching foot to the other, I mused how to list my various troubles. Ordered by severity? Alphabetically? Or by body parts, perhaps? The doc made that decision for me as soon as she entered the medical room.

“Let me guess: displeasing side effects of physical correction?”

Pony Boot Camp — Part Two

Deepfall

It was the rigid cuffs and hobble chains for me again. The same attire I had sported many times since the trial two weeks ago – which was a bit over the top, if I were to be asked. I had taken the damn whip for some quick laps, not to pack its boot full of TNT and drive it into the next public building. But the new nation-wide zero-tolerance doctrine had diffused into all layers of the penal system. I only got a quick glance at the bus that would bring me and six other female prisoners to our new home. As soon as the steel door to the remand centre’s vast garage opened, the guard next to me pulled a hood over my head.

“Hey, what the fuck—”

“Shut up, or you get your bitchy mouth stuffed, too.”