This is a collection of short stories that takes place in the fictional world of BESM that me and my friends play. It’s a heavy sci-fi world, think Star Gate, Star Wars, Star Trek, Metroid, StarCraft, and a few other things, mixed up into one giant bowl of doom. Then you add crack and make things worse. There’s evil parasites that want to take over everything, psychotic robots and pirates, invaders from another galaxy bent on destroying our galaxy, and many other things that just want to do evil. But not many of them will appear here, this will mostly be stories about everyday situations I think. More will be added over time.



First Story: This was just something that came to me after seeing a video with two people on play station dance mats, the original idea was for the two main characters to have a duel on arcade dance games (don’t know what they’re called, we don’t have arcades in Sweden). But in the end I lost that vision, and it enden up with them going to a sushi bar instead. Enjoy!

Through out the galaxy there are space stations dedicated to specific chapters of the social ladder, such as the luxury stations that only permits those that earn substantially more than the average norm to dock. Or stations that only accepts those of a certain sexual taste. But the most numerous stations are those dedicated to the free time of what politicians call 'mature youths', normal people call them teenagers. One such station is Lonestar 42, and entire station filled with dance clubs, arcades, fast food joints, and other important institutions where youths can spend their parents' hard earned money.

It was in one of the many arcades that Sashe were with his little band of friends. He was actually a little too old to be playing games; he was just there because his younger friends wouldn't stop nagging him. How would he ever be able to pick up girls at this place, games was fun and all but not very girl attracting. And he only had three days to get himself some tail. He was actually just about to leave when he heard someone yell out. "STUPID MACHINE!!!! GIMME BACK MY ZENNY!!!!"

Normally he wouldn't bother, hearing stuff like that is normal for an arcade, but this time the voice was way too feminine to be ignored. Looking around, he frenetically tried to find the source of the voice. But when he found it, he had mixed feelings. The over was most defiantly a girl, but she was a drac'tarr. She was about five feet tall, with a mass of dreadlocks on top of her head. Her black-scaled body was covered with a pair of baggy urban camo-painted pants and a red t-shirt with the words "I'm a bitch so I fucked you boyfriend" painted in neon green on her chest. She was actually quite attractive, since she had quite a shapely body. But even if she was very screwable, he could be killed being seen with her. Because ever since Johannes Berg gave out his book "The Drac'Tarr threat", extremist groups had been popping up like mushrooms. There had actually been some drac'tarrs that had been killed a few weeks back by such an extremist group. But that had almost been on the other side of the galaxy and considering how close this station was to the Drac'Tarr Empire's border, no extremist in any sane state of mind would be caught dead here.

"Stupid piece of shit." She muttered. "That's it I'm gonna go play Pac Man." As the drac'tarr was about to leave a booted foot came flying and collided heavily with the arcade machine. The machine rattled once and then a clear metallic cling was heard form the change bowl as the returned zenny came out. Her head turned like a gun turret, aiming for whomever the foot belonged to. And her demeanor only hardened when she found herself face to face with a human, and a male one on top of it. At first his eyes were cold and harsh, and the drac'tarr returned with that look with an even harder one. But quickly his face changed to a more cheerful look, a sly smile adoring his lips. "You looked like you needed some help, wanna go grab something to eat?"

"You never told me your name." The drac'tarr said and stuffed another piece of sushi in her mouth. She was quite skeptical towards this human, but given the political tension between their species who could blame her.

"It's Sashe, and now I want to know yours." He sipped from his drink and gave her a soft smile.

"My friends call me Epica, but I can think of a few other things you can call me, as well as a few other things I can call you." Her lips separated into a toothy grin, revealing sharp fangs and sharp teeth.

Sashe swallowed the lump in his throat. "Oh really." He said nervously. "Like, what kind of things."

"Oh, I can't decide, bitch, slave, toy, there are so many." She rested her head in her hand as she spoke with a very nonchalant tone.

"Now, now, I would never call a girl such things. The little manners my parents have spent pounding into my head include not to call females such things." Sashe was actually lying, he'd often called girls such things in bed, but then they didn't seem to mind.

"Call me? I was talking about what I could call you." Epica took another piece from her sushi. "I'd beat the crap out of anyone that called me bitch."

"Okaaay..." Sashe was actually quite nervous now. "What the hell did I get myself into now?" He thought.

The drac'tarr female finished her plate and drained her drink. "So, you wanna go over to my place? That's why you asked me to dinner isn't it, to get some tail."

He just nodded quietly.

"Lets go then." Epica jumped from her seat, grabbed Sashe's arm and dragged him off.
"Hey hey, take it easy." Was all he could say and try to keep up with her quick pace.

End of first story


Ok, this one is about one of  my characters, Zarn, and one of SamagthraV2’s, he’s is Sam. There’s some previous events to this that happened in an RP session between the two of us. The short reason is: Zarn the killing machine have grown very attached with Sam, to the point where he would love him. But there’s a chip in his brain stopping him. Anyway, during the RP session, Sam killed Zarn, but he’s brought back to life from all the nanobots in his body. But the chock gives him a form of subconscious control over himself, and he uses it to free himself completely. I wanted to making things seem sad and dark, hence the lack of description of the environment. And it’s just something I whipped together in about half an hour before bed. Hope you enjoy it, please give me feedback.

Zarn awoke with a jerk, gasping for air and sitting up. “Sam!” He cried, where was Sam? He couldn’t sense him anywhere, franticly he scrambled down the corridor, falling and stumbling over debris. “Sam!” He cried again as he searched the station, and as he stumbled into the hangar, his fears were confirmed, one of the shuttles were missing. The syke fell to his knees, and for the first time in centuries, tears begun to well up in his eyes.

“Sam…” He whispered with a shaky voice, he felt empty and alone. He stared out into the black void of space, unsure of what he was feeling, emotion long since suppressed and removed were crawling back into him. He fell forward, slamming his fists into the floor, tears falling from his clenched eyes. “Sam…” he cried quietly. “SAM!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, he’d never felt like this in his entire life. It felt like there was a hole in his chest as if something had been thorn out, and it hurt. An unbearable pain that gripped him and refused to let go. He wanted to scream, cry, shout, anything to give voice to his pain. But it refused to come out, he couldn’t even move. His tears coated the floor until he could see a reflection of himself in the puddle, his rough rugged features slapping him. What was this thing looking back at him, what kind of monster had such cold eyes, quickly he rose up to his knees again. The metallic smell of blood lay heavily in the air, but he couldn’t fixate from where. With panic-driven motions he scanned the room, but he saw now blood, until he looked down on his own hands. A scream bubbled up from within him and he shuffled backwards, staring at his own hands while trying to escape from them. Blood soaked from all the lives he’d taken, the dripped with the red liquid. He pumped against a crate, the protective blanket lying over it falling down on him. Desperately he tried to wipe his hands clean, to remove the blood soaked into the every fiber of him, but it refused to come off. He tried harder, tearing the cloth apart with his frenetic wiping. Falling back from it, he could just stare at his hands. The cold metal shining through the blood, slowly it turned over. Closing until only his index finger and thumb were pointing at him, to his horror he realized that he didn’t control his hand anymore.

It rushed towards him, the two claw-like fingers digging into his eye and further into his brain. It hurt, but it was a dull pain compared to the aching pain in his chest. The claws twisted and dug deeper, searching for something. He felt a sharp electric current run through him as they brushed against something, then tearing it out. Control returned to him as he could see what it was, his wound was closing rapidly. It was the loyalty implanted into his brain. Now, without its influence, he could for the first time in a long while think straight. But even as thoughts long since hindered to come into his mind surfaced, he could only think about one thing. Sam, he wanted Sam back, to be able to hold him and hug him, to feel his warmth and comfort against him. That was all he wanted at the moment, nothing else mattered. But Sam was gone, he’d left and Zarn didn’t know where, or how to find him. Staring back out through the force field keeping the hard vacuum of space out, he was out there somewhere. And Zarn would find him, no matter where he went or how long it tool. He would have Sam back in his arms again.

But first he had to do something about this place. Sprinting on all four, he rushed to the station’s power reactor and tore the cooling vents to shreds. This would cause the generator to overheat and have a meltdown, whatever his former masters had planned for this station; they would never see it happen. The drones that happened to cross his path seemed disoriented and confused, but as he came near them they would scurry up on him and find holes and perches to crawl into and rest. Zarn made his way back to the hangar, leaving a trail of tears behind as he boarded one of the shuttles and left the station.