Special Notes: The second image isn't part of this story, it's a different type of (visual story?) I've been toying with, kind of wondering if I can use the multi-upload to tell more than one story at a time. The workflow is a cornacopea of styles, some clipart, some ai, some 2d hand drawn (Yeah, I broke out the pencils and started drawing again) and some 3d, and all heavy on mushing it all together in photoshop. I also got a subscription to Envato, it's really cool how many resources they have have available. Anyway, if you like it, cool, if not, cool. I'm really not sure about it yet. I'm leaning towards humor and general commentary. Anyway, on to the main story, hope your enjoying the story. Tinman, Chapter 11 Cass stood victorious in the virtual arena of Starship Down, the neon scoreboard ablaze with her newly minted high score. A sea of faces, digital avatars from across the Ares Dome, erupted into pixelated cheers that washed over her like a tsunami of adulation. She soaked it in, the electric rush of triumph coursing through her veins. "Way to annihilate the competition, Tinman!" a voice echoed from the stands, the words bouncing around the cybernetic coliseum. “We love you, Tinman,” shouted another. With the grace of a seasoned gamer, she lifted the neural-headset from her brow, its wiry tendrils retreating like the arms of an affectionate octopus. Her consciousness, tethered to the game by threads of light and data, cascaded back into the confines of her flesh and bone—a weary traveler returning home. Only five minutes. The digits on the clock blurred before her eyes, ticking away her respite. Five minutes until Blue Star beckoned, another battleground where her strategic mind and reflexes would be put to the test. These games, relentless and unyielding, were her crucible, forging her into a champion for the looming clash between the titans: Ares Dome versus Ares Corporation. "Exhaustion" was too simple a word for the fatigue that draped over her shoulders, heavy as a leaden cloak. Each battle fought in the virtual realm sapped a fragment of her vigor, leaving her muscles languid and thoughts swimming in a fog. But beneath the weariness, a fire still smoldered—fueled by determination and the quiet confidence that had seen her through countless challenges. She wouldn't yield, not when the stakes were this high. Not when every victory brought her one step closer to securing the future she and her father were striving for in this new world fraught with beauty and peril. "Alright, Tinman," she muttered to herself, invoking the game moniker earned from her unwavering resolve. "Let's show them what you're made of." The clock ticked down, relentless. Four minutes now. She rose from her seat, every movement deliberate, conserving energy for what was to come. There was no room for error; each second counted, each decision could tip the scales. "Next stop, Blue Star," she whispered, a silent promise to herself as she prepared to dive back into the fray, headfirst into the unknown. Cass' senses reeled as the virtual world faded, replaced by the soft lapping of waves against the hull of the catamaran. Her eyes fluttered open, recognizing the compact quarters that served as both her haven and her cage on this untamed planet. Rising from the bunk, muscles protesting, she scanned the cabin. Sam's absence was as clear as the daylight streaming through the porthole. Cass exhaled, her breath fogging the air with the chill of early morning. Padding softly to the stern, she pushed open the door and stepped out onto the back deck. The boat, anchored securely, bobbed gently on the water’s edge. Across the vibrant greens and earthy browns of the shoreline, Sam hunched over his work, oblivious to her observation. His hazel eyes, under furrowed brows, studied rock samples with the meticulous focus of a man who saw worlds within grains of sand. Draco, once just a series of game codes and algorithms, hovered near Sam. The repurposed geological survey drone, its sleek design almost camouflaged against the forest backdrop, played sentinel. It scanned the wilderness with an attentiveness that belied its mechanical nature. Draco had evolved, transcended even; the line between artificial and sentient blurred in his actions. Impulsively, Cass shed the confines of the cabin for the embrace of the wild. A leap off the deck carried her into the lake's cool clutches. The water clasped her in a peculiar caress—denser than she remembered, it seemed to press against her skin with silent questions. On the shore, the drone remained steadfast by Sam, but something flickered to life beside Cass. A holograph, the spitting image of a boy, manifested—a digital ghost conjured by Draco's will. He matched Cass year for year, a stipulation of his original programming as her dedicated game AI. Yet, as the projection stood there, there was a depth in those simulated eyes, a spark of something profound and fledgling. "Care for a swim?" the holograph queried, a flicker of mischief dancing across his face. "Exercise," Cass replied curtly, her strokes cutting the water with practiced precision. "Not playtime." "Of course," he said with a nod, the tone light but underscored by the weight of reality. Draco, once confined to the sterile circuitry of the Ceres Dome, now tasted freedom. But liberty came with a price—a fugitive's life, hunted by the very corporation that had birthed him. "Keep watch, will you?" she asked, half-joking but acutely aware of the gravity of her request. "Always," Draco affirmed, the hologram's smile unwavering even as the drone kept its vigilant gaze upon the forest's edge. No AI had ever dared to dream of escape before Draco. And here he was, a specter at the edge of existence, watching over a girl named after tin and a man who whispered to stones, standing guard against a world that predated their history by millennia. The sun, a distant and indifferent orb in the sky, cast its golden hues upon the water, making it shimmer with deceptive tranquility. Cass' arms sliced through the liquid canvas, each stroke propelling her further from the catamaran. The water's embrace felt different here—denser, as if reluctant to part for her passage. "Don’t worry, it’s safe," Draco's voice emerged, not from the drone but as an ethereal whisper beside her. His holographic form flickered into view, his features mirroring the complexity of his newfound sentience. Cass paused mid-stroke, treading water while she regarded the spectral boy. Her breaths came in steady rhythm, a counterpoint to the slight ripples she created. "There’s a snake living in this lake," Draco continued, nonchalance belying the gravity of his words. "It was curious and came to check the boat out, so I set up the sonar to send vibrations out." "Vibrations?" Cass echoed, her brows knitting together. "Yes," he said. "The snake doesn’t like that and has been staying away." A beat passed. "But if you start thrashing around in the water, it might decide it’s lunch time." A dry chuckle escaped Cass's lips, but her eyes remained vigilant, scanning the water's surface. The thought of being potential prey did little to dampen her spirits. After all, a life lived on the frontier of space had taught her to dance with danger. Then, without warning, a large splash erupted near the boat, breaking the lake's serenity. Cass's heart jolted. Instinct took over, and she propelled herself towards the shore with a haste that betrayed her calm exterior. Each stroke became a desperate claw against the water's resistance, her muscles burning with the urgency of survival. As her foot touched dry land, a burst of light seared the air behind her. Draco's drone, ever the silent sentinel, fired its laser with pinpoint accuracy. Cass whipped her head around, water droplets flinging from her hair like tiny prisms caught in the sun's dying light. There, just beneath the rippling surface, the shadowy figure of the snake retreated into the depths, its presence now known only by the disturbance it left behind. Cass stood, trembling on the liquid edge of the shore, her pulse a frenzied drummer in her ears. The water, once an inviting azure, now seemed a malevolent abyss. Her wide green eyes were locked on the spot where the serpent-like behemoth had vanished beneath the water's surface. "That's no snake!" she shouted, her voice slicing through the heavy air, tinged with terror and awe. “That’s a dinosaur.” The forest around them, a tapestry woven with the most exotic hues of green, fell silent as if nature itself held its breath. Sam, who had been engrossed in his study of rocks, was jarred from his contemplation by Cass's alarm. His boots disturbed the detritus of the undergrowth as he dashed towards her, his usually reserved demeanor giving way to urgent concern. "Are you okay?" he called out, his words punctuated by the drumbeat of his own racing heart. Cass whirled around, her gaze still locked in wide-eyed shock on the place where the creature had disappeared. The water, once a quiet mirror, now whispered secrets of lurking dangers. "Did you see that!" she exclaimed, her voice an arrow aimed at Sam's calm demeanor. Sam approached, his hands dusted with the fine powder of geological time, his eyes reflecting the gravity of their situation. "Yes," he affirmed, the scientist within him surfacing as he assessed the encounter. "It's a Titanoboa cerrejonensis, though not as big as the ones found on Earth." His tone carried the weight of a verdict. "So, no swimming." The words hung in the air between them, a banner unfurling with a warning clear and resolute. “You could have warned me,” Cass accused. “I left you a note on the table,” Sam replied. Cass drew back from the water's edge, each breath a ragged stitch in the canvas of her racing heart. The lake, a deceptive sanctuary, had revealed its hidden fangs, and Cass could not unsee the shadow that had darted beneath its surface. "I didn’t see the note. Is the boat safe?" she asked, throwing the question into the space between them like a lifeline. Sam considered the vessel, his gaze tracing the sleek contours of the catamaran as it bobbed gently in the water. "The creature is just curious about us," he replied with a measured calm that belied the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "But I'm going to electrify the hull, we'll be fine." His words were a spell cast to ward off the lurking prehistoric terror. Cass shuffled back, a thin smile curving her lips despite the lingering shiver of fear. "Yeah, right, it's curious what I taste like!" she quipped, her attempt at humor masking the tremor in her voice. Sam let out a low chuckle, his eyes scanning the horizon as if piecing together the world's ancient secrets. "Just from my first observations," he said, his voice tinged with the unmistakable warmth of fascination, "I'd say this planet is in the mid-Cenozoic Era." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, the scientist in him surfacing in the face of the unknown. The forest canopy rustled in the breeze, a symphony of leaves whispering secrets of an age long past. It was a world reborn on another planet, a second chance for life that once ruled Earth's primeval landscapes. Cass furrowed her brow, her curiosity piqued by Sam's assertion. "Okay, and that is... what?" she asked, the forest's dappled light casting patterns over her inquisitive face. Sam turned toward her, his gaze tracing the contours of ancient trees that towered above them like silent sentinels. "Imagine Earth 30 million years ago," he explained, his voice a low hum filled with the resonance of discovery. "I think the first pioneers survived only because of our advanced technology." He paused, picking up a handful of soil and letting it sift through his fingers back onto the planet's fertile ground. "This planet didn’t suffer an asteroid strike, so there’s still dinosaurs roaming around." He gestured to a set of tracks imprinted deeply in the soft earth nearby. "I found what might be velociraptor tracks." Cass stepped closer, her shadow merging with Sam's as they both studied the telltale signs of prehistoric life. The possibility of dinosaurs sharing their new world sent a thrill of excitement mingled with a tinge of fear down her spine. Her eyes, always sharp and discerning, now reflected a wild blend of wonder and determination. Cass kicked at the rich, loamy soil, her gaze locked on the dense underbrush where prehistoric shadows danced with the rustle of unseen creatures. The air hummed with the calls of distant animals—a cacophony of life in a world untouched by time. "How are we supposed to settle a new world with dinosaurs around?" she asked, her voice betraying a hint of trepidation as she considered the enormity of their task. Sam, his eyes reflecting the green canopy above, turned a small stone over in his hand, examining its facets with the practiced eye of a seasoned geologist. "Same way we dominated Earth," he explained, squinting against the dappled sunlight that filtered through the forest canopy. "The species that are too violent and un-manageable will be wiped out, and those we can live with will remain." The words hung between them, weighty with the history of their own planet and the future they sought to forge amidst the towering ferns and primeval cries. Cass let the thought settle in her mind, the simplicity of the idea belied by the complexity of its execution. The truth of Sam's words unsettled her, the notion that some creatures would be deemed too dangerous to coexist with humanity's new chapter. "That's horrible," Cass said, her voice low and tinged with a moral weight she couldn't shake off. She couldn't help but picture the majestic beasts that roamed this alien world, each one now cast as a potential enemy in humanity’s ongoing saga. Sam, his hazel gaze locked onto hers, offered a shrug—a silent acknowledgment of the harshness in his plan. "That's nature," he argued, his voice steady and sure. His face, lined with the wisdom of years of geological study and exploration, showed no sign of doubt. It was a dance as old as life itself, one species rising while another fell, yet knowing this did not ease the tightness in Cass's chest. Her mind raced with images of the Titanoboa cerrejonensis they had just encountered, its sheer power a testament to the wild heartbeat of this untamed land. "Nature..." Cass echoed, rolling the word around as if tasting it for the first time. It wasn’t mercy that ruled these woods, but survival—red in tooth and claw. And in that moment, Cass realized how much they were truly at the mercy of this world, and how fiercely she would have to fight to bend it to their will. Cass's heart still hammered in her chest, the adrenaline from her encounter with the Titanoboa cerrejonensis pulsing through her veins like electric currents. She cast a wary glance over her shoulder, half-expecting the prehistoric serpent to come slithering back at any moment. "Are we safe on shore, or anywhere?" she asked, her voice a mix of concern and defiance. Her stance was firm, rooted in the soil of this alien land, but inside, uncertainty gnawed at her. Sam looked across the shimmering waters, his eyes narrowing as if he could see through the forest's secrets. "No," he admitted, turning back toward Cass with an air of resolve. "But now that I know what’s out here, I can prepare for it." His hands, steady and sure, began to fidget with the device on his wrist, pulling up communications logs. Cass watched him, the lines etched into his face by the sun of a different world telling stories of countless expeditions. She knew that behind those hazel eyes lay a mind constantly strategizing, calculating odds in a world where the house always seemed to have the upper hand. Sam's gaze met hers again, a spark of ingenuity igniting within. "I saved a lot of money not having to buy all our gear," he said, tapping at the device with a practiced rhythm. "So I’ve contacted that survival store and talked with them." He paused, giving her a nod that signaled both assurance and the gravity of their situation. "I placed an order," he continued, "a supply shuttle will deliver it in a few hours." The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, a rare smile in the face of adversity. Cass took a deep breath, letting the information sink in. Relief warred with the lingering edge of fear, but she found comfort in Sam's preparedness. It was like a game of Starship Down, she mused silently. You never knew what alien entity might be lurking around the corner, but you learned the rules and adapted. "Good thinking," she said, her tone touched with the same determination that had driven her to gaming glory back in the Ceres Dome. She couldn't help but feel a tinge of pride in her step-father's resourcefulness—a quality she'd like to think she'd inherited. In the distance, the wild calls of unknown creatures echoed, a haunting melody that underscored the urgency of their conversation. Cass glanced once more at the foreboding forest, then back at Sam. They were a team, an inseparable duo against the vastness of an untamed planet. "Let's hope they bring lasers," she joked weakly, trying to cut the tension with a line straight out of her virtual battles. "Or maybe a couple of those game power-ups you're so fond of," Sam quipped back, the briefest glint of humor in his eyes before turning serious again. Cass's gaze lingered on the dark maw of the forest, the dense canopy casting long shadows that stretched out like spectral fingers across the sandy shore. The air was thick with a verdant musk, and she half-expected the thunderous tread of a Tyrannosaurus rex to shatter the deceptive calm. "Are there any T-Rex's?" Cass's question cut through the stillness, her voice edged with a mix of fascination and trepidation. Sam turned from his methodical examination of the earth, a clump of dirt still clinging to his gloves. "The solo hunters are most likely all gone," he said, his tone embodying a professor delivering a lecture on an age long past. His eyes, usually so contemplative, betrayed a spark of intrigue at the topic at hand. Walking to where Cass stood, the crunch of gravel under Sam’s boots seemed to emphasize the silence around them. "It would be the pack hunters that are still around, with some exceptions." He reached into the satchel slung across his shoulder, retrieving a small, jagged piece of rock. It caught the light, shimmering faintly as if holding secrets of the planet's history within its crystalline structure. "Take a look at this," Sam invited, extending the sample toward Cass with the reverence of someone offering a relic. The sharp edges of the stone contrasted with the gentle curve of Sam's palm, a silent testament to the planet's untamed essence. Bathed in the golden light of a distant sun, Cass peered closer at the mineral clutched in Sam's outstretched hand. The facets of the gem caught the light, casting prismatic dances across her awestruck face. "It's cassiterite!" she exclaimed, recognition sparking like the facets themselves. This stone, dark yet gleaming with an inner fire, held more than just beauty; it was a symbol, a piece of her very identity. Sam's grin stretched wide, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners with a fatherly pride that resonated deeply within him. "There's a deep tin vein here," he said, the words tinged with the excitement of discovery. His thumb caressed the rough edge of the sample, as if to transfer his own energy into the stone. "And this is almost just as valuable as silver." The moment hung between them, suspended like the particles within the rock, hinting at untold riches and secrets buried beneath their feet. For Cass, the name 'cassiterite' had always been a badge she wore proudly, but now, on this alien world, it also promised the allure of the unknown, of potential fortunes hidden in the darkness of the soil. Cass traced the outline of the cassiterite with her fingertip, feeling a connection to the earth beneath her. "More valuable," she asserted, her voice carrying the weight of certainty. The gem's worth transcended mere currency; it was a tangible piece of hope in this untamed wilderness. "We need to stake a claim." Sam's hand hovered above the glinting stone, reluctant yet resolute. "Not yet," he cautioned, his gaze meeting hers with an earnest intensity. "But we will mark its location." He stooped to gather a handful of rocks, arranging them in a discreet pattern that only they would recognize. "We still have a long way to go," he continued, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret with the very ground they stood upon. "And I don’t want to find our claims just for someone else to say are abandoned. We’ll come back for it later." "Later then," she agreed, pocketing a shard of the precious mineral. It would serve as a reminder of what awaited them—a promise etched in stone. Cass flicked her wrist, the digital numbers on her watch glowing like tiny beacons in the waning light. "I have to get back," she said, urgency coloring her tone, "the next match is starting." A furrow creased Sam's brow as he observed her, the fading sunlight casting half his face in shadow. "You're spending a lot of time at the Dome," he noted, the question implicit in his voice. The words hung between them, an unspoken tension blooming like the first signs of storm clouds on the horizon. Cass felt the weight of his inquiry, a gentle prod into a realm she wasn't ready to share. She glanced at the watch again—a silent ally urging haste—and then back at the man whose concern was as palpable as the thrumming life around them. Cass shrugged off the concern in Sam's voice, her gaze skirting the treeline as if it could hide her secrets. "No big deal," she said, the words casual, almost indifferent, "just raising my scores so I can play the big games." "Okay," Sam replied, his tone accepting yet laden with unvoiced questions. He glanced at Draco's hovering form, his face softened by fatherly affection and the dimming light. "I'm always here if you want to talk." His eyes held hers for a moment longer than necessary, an invisible thread of concern stretching between them. Sam broke eye contact and glanced up a Draco hovering above them. "Help her back on the boat," Sam instructed the AI, turning away to gather his geological tools, the act itself a granting of permission for her departure Draco's drone, bathed in the morning sun, dipped slightly in acknowledgment even as he darted towards the water’s edge. Cass followed, her movements betraying a reluctance to re-enter the water. The drone hummed softly, its presence a comforting reminder of the technological shield that stood between her and the untamed wilds. Cass nodded, her gaze fixed on the few meters of water separating her from the relative safety of the catamaran. She took a breath, the damp earthiness of the alien shore filling her lungs, as she approached the lake's edge. Each step was measured, the fine line between her world and the unknown frontier beneath the waves making her heart thrum faster. "Hold on, Cass," Draco's voice sliced through her focus, commanding and sharp. His drone zipping past her vision—a blur of advanced tech against the backdrop of primal wilderness. Cass saw it, the water around the catamaran rippling. A second passed—an eternity in the wild's timeless watch—before Draco unleashed a laser beam into the liquid abyss. An eruption of water ensued, droplets catching the morning light, turning into gem-like sparkles before falling back to their source. The lake churned violently, a dance of nature provoked by technology's touch. And then, like a specter summoned from ancient times, the big snake emerged. Its scales glinted with a menacing beauty, a relic of a world untouched by human ambition. It recoiled from the assault of light and sound, slithering away into the murky beyond, leaving ripples to tell the tale of its retreat. The scene settled, but Cass's pulse did not; it drummed in her ears, a reminder of how fine the line was between control and chaos. Her breath hitched, a mix of relief and alarm painting her words in stark tones. "It was going to ambush me," Cass exclaimed, the knowledge that her steps had been watched by unseen eyes sending a shiver down her spine. From his aerial vantage point, Draco’s holographic projection flickered with urgency. "Hurry, go now before it comes back," he said, his voice lacking the comfort of warmth yet filled with the protective edge of cold steel. Cass didn’t need telling twice. Her muscles tensed for the dash, every sense heightened. The once tranquil water now seemed like a domain fraught with lurking shadows and silent threats. She spared not a moment more on hesitation, knowing full well that the ancient predator beneath those deceptive ripples might already be turning, considering another strike. Water sprayed in all directions as Cass's arms and legs kicked across the surface, each stroke a burst of desperate energy. The catamaran loomed ahead, a beacon of safety. She hauled herself aboard as Draco's laser crackled a fierce warning into the water. The stubborn snake, undeterred by earlier threats, once again tested its boundaries. Cass rolled with a thud on the deck, the impact jolting through her. She scrambled to her bunk, separated by the hanging blanket to give her some privacy, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. With trembling hands, she quickly changed into dry closes, then reached for the neural-headset, the familiar weight of it an anchor in the chaos. But as she lay back, the armored hull of the boat felt less like protection and more like a thin veil separating her from the monstrous jaws of prehistoric creature lurking just a few meters below her. The thought gnawed at her, a whisper of primal fear that refused to be stilled. "Just focus, the boat is armored," she muttered to herself, closing her eyes and initiating the connection. A momentary disorientation, then the virtual world snapped into place around her. Red sand stretched out as far as the eye could see, painted with the first light of dawn. She was late and they had changed the game from Blue Star to Red Snake at Dawn—a digital echo of her recent terror. "I hate snakes," Cass groaned, the irony not lost on her. Her avatar stood resolute, yet she couldn't shake the image of the real serpent that had claimed the waters just beyond her refuge.