A new installment of inFINite... Fin was introduced in The Accidental Immortal...

One of the most annoying questions that Fin got asked as an immortal was "How old are you?" The moment that someone found out what he was, that was the question they asked. Putting aside for the moment that planets measured time differently (making the conversion a huge headache), Fin started to lose count during the fifth or sixth century. Sometimes he made up an exact year. Sometimes he gave the best estimation that he could. Mostly he just said, with a tired face and exhausted voice "Too old..." 

Even if they were trying to guess at what historical events he might have seen, chances were he was on a different planet when they occured, so it didn't matter how old he was. There was no purpose to the question. He wished they would stop asking him. But he knew that they never would. They would always ask him. They always wanted to know, even though he himself didn't remember. Fin couldn't answer them. The question only served to remind him that there was no end in sight. 

And now, his secret was out once more. It didn't matter how they found out, it had also happened more times than the immortal could count in his endless life. He sighed, and closed his eyes, waiting for them to ask. The youngest man opened his mouth and Fin tried not to feel his age. But before he could say the words, the old woman, Miria, cut him off. 

"Ha! I knew it!" She declared with an air of vindication. "You talk about 'the good old days' more often than I do!" Miria laughed. Fin smiled at her weakly, still waiting for the question. The middle aged woman, Leta, tried to speak, but Miria spoke over her again. She was intent on engaging the (much) older man in conversation about 'young hooligans' who need to 'respect their elders'. Miria was so vigorous, so intense, that no one got a chance to ask him. When Fin excused himself (it had been a long day and he was exhausted), he heard one of them try to ask, only to yelp. Fin glanced down to see Miria's cane planted firmly on the offender's foot. He distinctly heard her mutter "Disrespectful young hooligans..." before she informed them that the elders needed their sleep, and asked Fin to help her to her room. Fin hid a small smile as he escorted the old woman. 

"Thank you." He said quietly. 

​"What for?" Miria snorted, but there was a twinkle in her eye. Even though Fin was eons older he felt that Miria was just as wise as him. Moments like these were humbling. He treasured them. Fin smiled at her. Moments like these made the endless years seem worth living after all. 

Author's Notes: Yes... I know I've been very inactive of late... But in my defense this is only my third day off in four and a half weeks between work and volunteering. I'm very tired... I hope this is decent!

See you again soon!

The trouble with befriending an omnipotent being, Fin reflected as he neared his third or fourth millennia, was that they weren’t really aware of what they were doing sometimes. He wasn’t omnipotent, but he knew better than most that having even a good relationship with such beings presented certain difficulties. Take his situation: he’d never wanted to be immortal. His condition was by no means intentional. It had taken Fin several centuries to accept that conclusion. If it had been on purpose, Fin could be furious as he watched friends be born, live, and die; only to have the cycle repeat. As nice as it would be to be angry, it was much better to accept that mistakes happen and, apparently, not even the omnipotent were perfect.

Fin had been a simple crewmember on an unimportant merchant ship, the Trade Winds. He was there out of a love for travel more than anything else. The Trade Winds took him off world, to planets he never could have dreamed of. The ship encountered some difficulties with a mischievous entity. That was actually severely downplaying the harrowing experience. The being that he came to know as Eleven had very little empathy for them back then. The ship survived because the crew had risen enough beyond Eleven’s expectations for her (or maybe him) to deem them “not boring”. She let them go for the next time she was bored.

Eleven reappeared several times after that. It was a strange evolution to witness; Eleven actually came to care about them. Not that she said that. It was her actions that spoke volumes. The most obvious was the time that she had been angry, truly furious. The ship was shielded from her rage. It was the only thing that was for farther than their sensors could reach. They managed to catch a trace of her energy signature and traveled through a dozen dead systems (ships floating around the planets like scum on water) before they found her. The captain convinced her to put things right. Fin hadn’t been part of that, but it did reveal what could happen if Eleven lost control of her emotions. It made Fin grateful that beings like Eleven were, for the most part, indifferent and bored.

Eleven wasn’t fully aware of what she did when she felt a strong emotion. It was a subconscious response, like a smile or a clenched fist. Most omnipotent individuals could be made aware of it, but they generally tried to just suppress it and ignore the consequence if their control slipped. Obviously, anger was a powerful emotion when expressed. Sadness was probably one of those bad ones that omnipotent beings should have a firm handle on too… No one talked about the need to control joy though.

Once, Fin made Eleven laugh. It had startled her far more than him. Fin didn’t know if she’d ever laughed before. If she had, it was many years before his species even evolved. Eleven smiled at him fondly afterward and said, in a moment of true happiness, “Never change, Fin.” It was a decade before he realized he wasn’t aging or scarring. It was centuries before he accepted he never would.

All because an omnipotent being had been happy and didn’t realize what she’d done.  

It was hard being a stowaway on a spaceship. Even air was precious, so unused rooms and closets were often decompressed to save air. It was better to not think about how many stowaways might have died that way without thinking it though. You had to be smart to be a spaceship stowaway. Fortunately, I had a lot of experience. I’d hopped so many spaceships for such a long time I wasn’t even sure which galactic neighborhood I was from, let alone what planet. I knew spaceships better than their engineers. Finding a hiding place and manipulating the ship was easy for me. What was harder was the time… Spaceships often travels for weeks or months at a time. I had nothing to do what survive. So, I developed a hobby. I watched the crew.

The crew of the Celestial was becoming a personal favorite of mine. It started with the engineer. I always start with the engineer. They are the people most likely to discover me. The chief engineer on the Celestial was a gruff middle-aged woman by the name of Gins. She was hard as nails. Yet when her people needed her, she was always there for them, with a sympathetic ear and a stiff shot of the hard stuff, provided they were off shift. Gins was also irritatingly competent. No engineer had ever been able to identify and undo my handy work so quickly before. She forced me to improvise new ways of redirecting air, water, food and heat… I’m still not sure if I’m grateful for that or irritated. It certainly kept me occupied and taught me a thing or two, which almost never happens anymore.

The person who bothered Gins the most was Lieutenant James Kion. Lieutenant Kion was always calling down and demanding more power, increased speed, diverting resources, etc. His calls often prompted a stream of what I assume was profanity from Gins that her communicator didn’t translate. He made me interested in the bridge crew, and I was glad in the shift. Engineering was run by Gins and reflected her. It was cluttered yet somehow organized in both the personnel and the environment. The rest of the ship was neat and orderly, the way a military ship tended to be, but with a delightful undercurrent that was easy to pick up on. Lieutenant Kion ran the in ship communications on the bridge. He was also a hopeless romantic. I don’t know how many times I caught him sending little messages to a girl (or the occasional boy) while it was slow. I don’t know what he was thinking when he went after the security officer, Lieutenant Reya Post. That girl could seriously injure him! I don’t know why she didn’t after Kion dumped her for the scientist on B Deck. It was probably because Kion knew better than to spar with her. Reya was an impressive combination of sociable and aggressive. It was almost as if she had a switch that she was in perfect control of. One that she only turned on during combat.

But my favorite people on the bridge were the captain and first officer. The first officer, Commander Leena, was some kind of species that looked like a humanoid version of a fluffy pet, complete with claws. She made an effort with the entire crew, dealt with almost all of the internal matters, and stopped at least one attempt on Kion’s life without ending in a court martial. The ship wouldn’t run half as smoothly without her. Commander Leena eased the friction between the different command styles of Gins and the captain. Captain Jeno Ion was clearly a military man. He was shrewd and calculating. I distinctly remember the first time the Celestial entered real combat. The ship was heavily outmatched. I’m sure that half the crew was as positive that we were going to die as I was. That half of the crew had never served with Captain Ion before.

Captain Ion had the computer technician spoof the enemy ships’ sensors into detecting more ships. (Lucky Lionel was manning the computer that day. If it were Evans we’d have all been space dust!) While the enemy ships were firing at the phantoms that Lionel created, Captain Ion issued a bunch of orders that I didn’t really follow and we won! Or we escaped… I didn’t completely follow that either. I was busy fixing the computers before they blew, buying us as much time with those fake ships as I could. I even heard Commander Leena congratulate Lionel on how long the computers lasted while maintaining the illusion! I helped! Not that they knew that but it still felt pretty good!

I really like this crew. Usually I get sick of a crew after a while but after a few weeks on board the Celestial I don’t really feel like leaving. I understand how people can be members of a crew for so long. I’d even like to be a part of the crew… I know that will never happen. I’m a stowaway. I don’t belong as a member of a crew… Still, I don’t look forward to leaving them.

Sequel to Cause and Effect.

Jessica hated time travel. She never told anyone. Being a time traveler had been Jessica’s destiny since before she was born, and her family never let her forget it. Jessica could never make her own choices.

“Now remember,” Sam reminded Jessica. “Yell ‘Get down!’ the second Daisy takes out the prototype.”

“I’ve got it, Uncle Sam.” Jessica tried very hard to keep from rolling her eyes. They’d been over this a dozen times today.

“This is serious.” Kevin said sternly. A large scar ran from his temple to the bridge of his nose. “The explosion goes off right after Daisy takes out the prototype.”

“Dad, I’ve got it!” Jessica snapped impatiently. Kevin straightened her vest.

“If you don’t-” He began again.

“Dude, she knows what she’s doing.” Mark interjected. Jessica shot him a grateful look. He was the most laid back in her family, and clearly he was getting as bored with the current conversation as she was. Sam and Kevin just looked at each other and shook their heads. They never took him very seriously.

“This is important, Mark.” Sam sighed, while Kevin checked over his daughter’s vest again.

“She can handle it.” Mark ate a handful of popcorn. “If she couldn’t,” he mumbled through a full mouth. “We wouldn’t be here.”

Mark had a point. From their point of view, Jessica had technically already completed this mission. They had told her about this, and her other trips to the past, time and time again. She went back in time to help them on multiple occasions, and they made sure she knew the details to each and every one.

This mission was just like every other one. Jessica was sent into the past, a few years before she was born. From the moment she arrived in the past it was as if she were living out a story she knew by heart; go there, do this, stop the bad guy from killing Sam. Mark, her uncle Mark that is, had once told Jessica she seemed like a superhuman because she always knew exactly what to do to save the day. It was only because Jessica had been told what was going to happen. Jessica often wondered how she would act if she didn’t know; if she weren’t trapped with her destiny as a time traveler. Could she still be a hero? Would she be? Jessica wanted to know.

When Daisy brought out the prototype, Jessica shouted “Get down!” She saw her father, though a much younger version of her father, standing in front of the window. Jessica managed to tackle Kevin to the ground an instant before the explosion. A flying shard of glass sliced her shoulder as they went down. Jessica patched herself up and continued her mission.

When Jessica returned to the future, a much older Daisy frowned at her from the controls. “Were you hurt?”

“Just a scratch.” Jessica assured her. She had been hurt worse than that training.

“Odd…” Daisy looked at her curiously.

“I guess it went well, kiddo?” Kevin called from the next room.

“What do you think?” Jessica asked with a laugh.

“Don’t get cocky.” Kevin walked into the room. Jessica’s jaw dropped in shock. The scar that had graced her father’s face for as long as she could remember was gone. “We’ve got a lot of training to do.” Kevin continued with a grin, oblivious to his daughter’s shock.

“S- sure.” Jessica tried to recover. “Sounds good.” She continued to stare at her father’s face. It was as if the scar had never existed. Maybe… Jessica touched her wound. Maybe it hadn’t.

Maybe she could control her own destiny after all…