Valiant: Tales From The Drift

[Tails #28: The Leave Taking]

Log Date: 11/3/12764

Data Sources: Jazel Jaskolka, Lysanne Arrignis

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Falcon’s Crossing: The Jaskolka House

8:13am SGT

“…with dozens dead, and hundreds more in various states of injury. Initial reports state that Laughing Alice, the infamous Challenger that recently escaped from the Pallus Psi Penitentiary, was sighted recently at Grayspur Ring. In the past, this rogue Challenger was known to be connected to several politically-motivated terrorist attacks, and many observers with national-security backgrounds agree that there is a high likelihood that she was involved in the psi bombing on Grayspur, at least based on the information that has come to light so far. For more on this developing story, we go to Shina Sothsby, our field reporter onsite at the Tutuhmorai Shrine location on Grayspur Ring.”

…

“Thank you, Clarence. Tensions are high here on Grayspur as local authorities continue to investigate the psi bombing. Relief efforts have largely involved diverting additional resources to local hospitals, since psi bombings do almost no physical damage to buildings or infrastructure. They do, however, produce a powerful psiwave that has different effects on organic creatures depending on their proximity to the detonation, and the strength of the detonation itself. Individuals close to the detonation are usually killed, with the severity of the effects decreasing the further away from the detonation one is — ranging from brain damage, strokes, blackouts, headaches, and hallucinations of varying intensity. In areas with high population densities, such as Grayspur Ring, a detonation like this can have a devastating impact, and the number of injured victims can strain even the most well-staffed hospitals…”

“That’s just terrible.” Katya remarks from behind the counter. She’s making caramel brownie cupcakes, and I’ve been helping her out. I was lining the muffin pan with little cupcake liners, but both of us had stopped to watch the galactic news playing on the holoarray in the living room. “All those poor people… can you imagine waking up with brain damage? Finding out that your life might never be the same again? That you might not be the person you were before that? Those poor things.”

“It is terrible.” I murmur in quiet agreement. “It’s been so long since we’ve heard about something like that happening. Laughing Alice got put away like… what, seven years ago? And now she’s on the loose again…”

Katya shakes her head, opening the oven and pulling out the first batch of brownie cupcakes. “I don’t know what’s going on with the galaxy. The Challengers coming back, the Collective assimilating Mokasha, and now Laughing Alice back on the loose… it’s like everyone’s lost their minds.”

“Dandy always tells me that it’s not as bad as it seems.” I say, sliding the next muffin tin over as Katya sets the first one on the cooling rack. “That there’s a representation bias. The news only ever shows us bad things, and so it makes it seem like everything’s falling apart, but the galaxy is a big place. These things we see on the news are just little spots of instability in a massive galaxy that’s mostly stable. The media never bothers to tell you about all the places that are chugging along just fine, because there’s not really much to be said about places like that, even if they’re everywhere.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Katya says, moving to start filling the next tin, then pausing and looking up at holoarray as the news report continues.

“…an especial importance in the context of the Challenger program. The Tutuhmorai Shrine is located at the site of the Songbird Incident, where the Challenger Nova was killed by the infamous Songbird. As we all know, the revelation of Nova’s death in the Songbird Incident started a chain of events that resulted in the eventual shuttering of the Challenger program. Every year, thousands of tourists come to visit the site, with Nova idolizers and historical buffs among them. An attack on the memorial shrine, by a terrorist that was once a Challenger, raises many questions about what her motives were, what the message was supposed to be, and what this could mean for an increasingly restive galaxy…”

The clunk of the garage door opening draws our attention away. We both look to see Milor and Dandy stepping back inside, smudged with grease and grime from doing car maintenance. “Alright! Oil change is done, new filter is in place, tires are good and the coolant and windshield wiper fluid have been topped off. I took a look at the battery and it seems like it’s doing okay. The car’s an old piece of work, can’t really argue with that, but I think it should last you at least another five years before you start to see really expensive problems crop up. Just something to keep in mind — if it was my car, I’d be thinking about looking for a replacement in the near future.”

“Thank you again for looking at that, you really didn’t have to.” Katya says as she finishes sliding the second tin into the oven. “It’s been very sweet of you, with what all of you have done to help fix up the house over the last week. I really do appreciate it.”

“You have hosted us for the past month. It’s the least we could do to recognize and return your hospitality.” Dandy says. “Besides, many hands make it easier to do the work.”

“Well, these hands are gonna see this deputy upstairs so they can start cleaning him up.” Milor says, taking his widebrimmed hat off. “Some scrubbin’s in order after gettin’ down in the gears and the grease. Much as I like a good workout, I’ll be pulling looks from the checkpoint staff if I show up to the starport like this.”

“The deputy has a valid point. I too will be getting cleaned up.” Dandy says, turning to follow Milor to the stairs.

“Oh, if you see Jazel and Kaya up there, can you tell them the brownie cupcakes are ready? Thanks!” Katya calls after them. Taking her apron off, she looks at the news report on the holoarray, and sighs. “I feel terrible sending you all back out into that. The galaxy seems more dangerous than it’s been in a long time.”

I move to the sink to help with washing the dishes used for making the brownie cupcakes. “You don’t have to worry, really. We’re never involved in that sort of stuff, and it rarely happens in our vicinity. I mean heck, most of our assignments have us out in the middle of nowhere, collecting specimens, dozens of lightyears from populated systems where you see reports about terrorist attacks or Challenger sightings or whatever.”

“You say that, but Jazel told me what happened with the sorcerer that kidnapped him.” Katya says, pulling out a knife to start prying the first batch of cupcakes out of the tin.

“Ah… well, yeah. There’s that. I can’t… yeah, I can’t really defend that.” I concede, setting rinsed whisks and mixing bowls in the drying half of the divided sink. “But… normally we don’t get tied up in that sort of stuff. It definitely wasn’t in our Preserver contract.”

“I know I shouldn’t ask it of you, but — you’ll keep an eye on him, right?” Katya asks as she finishes emptying the first muffin tin. “I just hate the thought of letting him go back out there, especially after everything that’s happened to him over the last year.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on him.” I say quickly. “I always have. Whether he likes it or not. And it’s not just me, Ms. Jaskolka. You’ve seen how Kaya is with him. She loves him, and she’ll protect him if he gets into danger. Plus, we’ve got Milor now, so we’ve got an actual bodyguard for our group. I don’t like admitting it, but…” I take a deep breath. “…he’s good at what he does. He keeps a level head when things get dangerous, and he’s got connections, and can handle himself in sketchy places. And please don’t tell him I said any of that; his ego doesn’t need to get any bigger than it already is.”

Katya smiles. “I won’t say a word.” She pulls out a drying towel, looking at the leafy pattern on it. “…I’m glad Jazel has friends that will look after him. It’s hard to send your kids out into the galaxy like that, and after what happened with Jayta, what might happen with her… I couldn’t stand losing Jazel as well. He’s all I’ve got left.”

I rinse the soap off one of my hands, then reach over and rest that hand on Katya’s arm. “We will take care of him, Ms. Jaskolka. I promise. We’ve already been through hell and back to save him once. I hope it never happens again, but if it does, we’ll be able to do it even faster next time because we’ve already had a practice run.”

“Thank you, Lysanne.” Katya says, resting her hand over mine. “The coven always takes care of its witches. It’s good to know he’s got his own little mini-coven when he’s out among the stars.”

“Mini-coven. Yeah, I suppose that’s one way to put it.” I say, going back to washing the dishes. “On that note… I was a little curious, how do you feel about your potential grandchildren having, mmm, certain vulpine traits?”

“Oh. You mean…”

“I mean, I already had this talk with him, and they’re not thinking about kids right now, but in future, if they did, then, ah, how do I put this… all the the kids are gonna take after their mother, at least when it comes to species.”

“Oh my.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought to myself when it first crossed my mind.”

“Well, it’d definitely be unusual, but I don’t think I would be opposed to it, at least on a principle level… not sure how the coven would feel, though…”

“But you wouldn’t mind if your grandchildren were a little foxy?”

“Well, it’s not like I would have much room to talk — both of mine were adopted! At the end of the day, family is family. I think I could love them just the same, tails or no.”

“That’s good to hear. Also, don’t tell Kaya we talked about this either, she might, uhm… gosh, how do I put this. She just… strikes me as the type that may not mind making you a grandmother sooner rather than later, especially if she thinks that’s what you want or expect out of her and Jazel.”

“…oh. Really.”

“She spent four centuries cut off from modern civilization, preying on a far less advanced civilization. She’s… built a little different up top, because of how she’s lived and what she’s been exposed to prior to encountering us. Preindustrial tribal cultures, they have a different, uh, approach to family planning…”

“Yes, I can imagine…”

Event Log: Jazel Jaskolka

Falcon’s Crossing: The Jaskolka House

9:42am SGT

Leaving doesn’t feel as hard as I thought it was going to be.

Standing outside of my childhood home, staring up at it, I feel like I should feel more. It is home, after all; the place where I grew up, where many of my defining moments occurred. And while I do feel an attachment to it, it’s faint and vague. I have been away from the place so long that I just don’t feel attached to it the same way I used to — and that’s probably not helped by the fact that the interior had been rearranged when I came back. It’s the same place, but at the same time, it’s not. It’s a strange feeling to have.

“Are you sad to be leaving, little witchling?” Kayenta asks, coming back from putting our luggage in the car’s trunk.

“Not as such, no.” I answer, studying the parts of the house we’d helped fix up and repair. Cleaned out the gutters, replaced some damaged shingles, repaired the rotting porch railing. Milor had taken the lead on most of it; he was pretty handy at handyman stuff. “I’ll miss it, but not that much. It’s strange; I thought I’d miss it more, but I guess not.”

“It is because the Drift is your home now.” Kayenta says, with a certain factual finality. As if it was simple as that. To her, it probably was.

“Yeah. I think you’re right about that.” I say, tucking my hands back in the pockets of my winter jacket. “We basically live there all the time, so… yeah.”

“You will not miss your people? Your coven?” she asks.

“I will miss some of it. Not most of it, I think.” I say, still staring up at the house. “I do like many of our traditions. Our way of life. But I was raised with it, so that’s to be expected.” I allow a moment, then go on. “Even if I liked our ways, I was never really attached to the people. If that makes sense…? It’s not that I disliked them; they were just… there. It’s hard to explain.”

Kayenta stares at the house, then looks at me. “Will you at least miss your mother?”

“Oh! Yes. Definitely.” I say quickly, glancing at her. “I’m more attached to my mom than I am to the rest of the coven. I mean, I suppose that goes without saying, but… I feel like she understands me better than the rest of the coven did. I can talk with her more freely than I can with the rest of the coven.” I return my attention to the house. “Many of the witches that belong to the coven, they’ll never leave this area… they’ll live their entire lives in this district. Maybe leaving to go on the occasional vacation, but a lot of them don’t know or understand a world outside the coven. I never wanted to be like that. I wanted to explore and understand more of the galaxy that we live in. I think, in the back of my head, I always knew I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life in Falcon’s Crossing. That’s why I don’t feel sad when I leave it — I’ve always known that I was never going to stay here.”

“Was that because you knew the Witchling had a purpose for you?” Kayenta asks.

I press my lips together. “No. I never knew that part. I never thought of myself as special… I mean, technically a witchling is special, but I didn’t think I was different from, say, any other witchling in other covens. I still don’t know what the Witchling intended for me; what she expected of me. Honestly, I still don’t.”

“Maybe there doesn’t have to be a reason. People exist for the sake of existing, even when they are born of gods.” Kayenta suggests. “My parents never gave me a reason for my existence. I simply am. To live, to experience things, is enough for me.”

That gives me pause. Ever since the visit to Kaldt Fjell, ever since finding out how I was actually born, I’d been plagued with that question: why? Neither Mom, nor Vigil, had been able to answer that question. Clearly the Witchling hadn’t felt the need to explain her reasons, either. So all three of us were in the same place, assuming there was a reason for my existence, but having no clues or hints as to what that might be. You figured that if a higher power bothered to create life in such a manner, then there must’ve been a reason.

But perhaps there didn’t have to be a reason. Perhaps, it was enough to live, and simply enjoy that.

“Yeah.” I say after thinking that over. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe there doesn’t have to be a reason. We can just enjoy it for what it is.”

Kayenta nods. “I will miss your mom’s caramel brownie cupcakes, though.”

“Those were good.” I agree, then look to the house when the front door opens. “Oh, here comes Ozzy. Lord have mercy, I don’t know how he’s going to fit all that luggage into the rental car…”

Event Log: ???

Falcon’s Crossing: The Jaskolka House

9:53am SGT

Standing beneath one of the trees bordering the Jaskolka house, Kattunge watches as the Drifters start loading their luggage into the cars in preparation for the drive back to the Goldenbirch starport. Reaching up to the undulating mass of cats wreathing his head, he strokes a hand over one that has paused on his shoulder, its yellow eyes fixed on Krå as she ghosts silently through the underbrush to stand beside him.

“Do you ever think to yourself — ‘but for the grace of Maugrimm, there go I’ — when you are watching them?” she asks, the crows nestled close to her head in the cold.

“No. We have naught in common with them.” he replies, not moving from his post. “Given mortality, I doubt either my life, or yours, would be half so consequential. And even so, importance is more often a function of circumstance than it is of individual merit.”

“I am not sure I agree with that.” Krå replies. “There are many who have attained their relevance by effort and hard work, and would not have come by it otherwise.”

“And there are many who lack relevance only because they will never be given the circumstance to exhibit their good qualities on a broader stage.” Kattunge counters. “But these before us are neither.”

Krå’s lips curl at the corners. “Ordinary individuals thrust into extraordinary circumstances?”

“As most persons of relevance usually are.”

“It would wound their pride to be informed as such.”

“Perhaps, if they were traditionally relevant in the manner that public figures often are. But these ones are not public figures, and as a result, I believe you would find them humbler than other mortals who are public figures.”

“Mmm.” Krå says, tilting her head as her crows stare at the group. “Would the assignment of relevance then be an imposition to these? After all, relevance comes with burdens, and responsibility. Not all may desire these things.”

“Indeed. You see beyond your own inclinations.” Kattunge confirms. “Some desire relevance; some crave it insatiably. But there are others that have no need of it, no desire for it. They desire only to be normal; to live life without the complications of higher importance. This desire is understandable, for there is sometimes beauty and ease in simplicity. A thing need not be complicated to be delightful or satisfying.”

“There is truth in this, I suppose.” Krå says, watching the struggle to fit all of Ozzy’s luggage into the car. Some of it eventually ends up strapped to the roof instead. “It is strange to think that these little stories play out every day, and most will never be told. Those that are told will be forgotten within a generation or two. Even the memories will be lost when the souls that carry them eventually evanesce, and return to the background noise of the universe. It seems sad to me.”

“Which is why the Watchers have you on probation. It is one thing to understand emotion; it is another to feel it.” Kattunge says, turning away from her. “Continue in this manner, and your probation will not conclude anytime soon.”

“Once, that may have been a threat; now, it is less so.” Krå replies. “I find your company has a certain value, despite your rigidity.”

Kattunge pauses, as if this had caught him off-guard. “Is that so.” he says tonelessly. After a moment to consider this, he replies. “I suppose that in return, I will concede that your company, while often vexing, is not entirely unpleasant.”

The corners of Krå’s mouth curl into a smile. “Is that so?”

“Take mischief in it, and I will not vend you any other compliments.” Kattunge warns, moving again. “Let us be leaving. There is work to be done.”

“Inasmuch as you consider me your task, and I consider you mine, I do agree with you in that regard.”

“Indeed. And a vexing task it is.”

“I might say the same of you.”

“Then clearly this assignment was designed to test the both of us.”

“Mm, yes. More than you know.”