Valiant

[Valiant #21: To Be Seen]

Log Date: 1/24/12764

Data Sources: Feroce Acceso

Event Log: Rewind: 28 years ago

Kjurrtik: Havelock County

It was being seen that drew him to her.

He could still remember the first time he met her. It was an art class in high school, during the years he still hadn’t outgrown his shyness. He was the quiet kid, the observant Anayan, all too well-behaved. Sheltered and naïve, yet always absorbing new information from other teenagers who always seemed to have experienced more life than he had, despite being the same age.

Cherriki Locke was one of those.

She was the girl with the red hair, though in those days it was cut shorter than it would be in later years. Easy to pick out in a crowd, and yet for the first month, he hadn’t noticed her. It was only one day, when he alone at his worktable in the art studio, that she fully crystallized as a person in his mind; that she truly became distinct from the formless mass of the rest of his classmates. Standing at the corner of her worktable, chatting and joking with the other girls, she had noticed him watching, listening to their conversation. And she asked him if he wanted to come join them; called him by his name, and managed to pronounce it correctly.

And in that moment that Feroce was recognized as a person, as a distinct individual, Cherriki Locke became one of the most important people in his life.

To be recognized, to be seen, is a powerful thing. Recognition is the social currency, not just of teenagers, but of politicians and galactic corporations and celebrities. For the shy and socially inept, who are poor in such currency, to be seen was an unexpected payday; to be invited to join a group was like winning a small lottery. Teenagers, of course, would not phrase it in such prosaic terms, but it is something that they understand intuitively, a necessary instinct hardwired by genetics and evolution, and employed to navigate their social sphere as they grow and mature.

Feroce turned down her offer that day, but the mere fact of it emblazoned her presence in his mind. As time would go on, he would start noticing her more and more in school; found himself idly listening to more of her conversations as snatches of them drifted across the classroom. In time, they would be paired on projects together, and through that, actually become friends. He would learn that she was a month younger than him, and yet so much more jaded and versed in the knowledge of imagined adulthood. She would sow the first seeds of his doubt in the Anayan dogma, not through cynicism and suspicion, but by showing kindness and tolerance for others that were different, and supporting those that chose to love differently. And he would learn her favorite drink — cherry passion fizzwater, eighty on the cherry, twenty on the lemon, though she preferred it with rocks on the top, and he preferred it gravelly.

Further into the school year, in late October, a meteor shower would give them, and a few others, reasons to see each other outside the halls of school. But in the end, it all came back to that one moment when she looked at him, and gave him something that could not be begged, borrowed, stolen, or bought. It was what sparked his love for her, and though she would never reciprocate it, it would persist in silence because it would always be founded on something more.

The joy of being seen by another person.

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

M.V. Accatria: Bridge

12:49pm SGT

“Hey dude, you seeing this?”

The question accompanies Ridge’s elbow bumping my ribs. Dragging my gaze from my flask, I look up to see everyone staring through the forward windows. It appears we’ve dropped out of our hyperjump on the edge of a forming star system; the protostar in the center is shrouded by a torus of gas and dust. Rather than the brilliance of a fully-formed star in an adult system, this one is instead filled with a weak, diffuse luminosity that filters through still-uniform clouds of stardust that will one day clot together to form planets.

“You’ve never seen a proto-system before?” I ask, screwing the lid back on my flask and tucking it back into my coat.

“I’d never been off Valcorria before.” he murmurs, staring at the vista before us. It’s quite something to behold; the swirling clouds that make up the protostar’s planetary disk are streaked in warm hues of clementine and rose, almost like it was sketched out by a holopainter’s brush.

“Nascent systems like these are fairly common in stellar nurseries.” Legaci says from where she’s being projected onto the center of the bridge by the local holoarrays. “Fascinating to observe, though it’ll be millions of years before their planets form, and millions more before any of the rocky ones are habitable. Perhaps in another two or three billion years, some of this dust will have turned into a nice planet or two.”

“That’s a long time.” Ridge says, scratching the back of his neck. “Guess that’s why environmentalists are always so pushy about taking care of the planets we have.”

“Yup.” Jackrabbit says, clapping a hand on Ridge’s back. “It takes billions of years to form a habitable planet, but only weeks or even days to ruin one. And there’s notta lotta habitable planets out there to begin with. We gotta take care of the ones we’ve got, or we won’t have anywhere to live.”

“I mean, technically, most species are perfectly capable of living on orbital installations or generational ships that receive proper maintenance and upkeep.” Legaci points out. “But organics are fond of nature and foliage and terrestrial features like beaches and mountains.”

“Oooh, I love a good day at the beach.” Jackrabbit agrees.

“Alright. That’s enough sentiment; we aren’t here to sightsee.” Dussel says as arrives on the bridge, marching straight to the captain’s chair. “I understand this protosystem is just the first waypoint on our trip. Are we planning for the next?”

“Yeah, I’m calculating and mapping that right now.” Legaci answers. “Since we’re in Viralix territory, we have to account for suspected Collective transit routes and Viralix patrol routes when planning our warp jumps. It’s harder to map a route when you need to tiptoe through a territorial empire.”

“Let me know when you’ve completed the route mapping.” Dussel says, sinking into the captain’s chair. “I want to review it and make sure it doesn’t take us through any pirate patches.”

“Why can’t we just jump right to where the Masklings’ ship is?” Ridge asks, looking away from the forming protostar. “Figure that would be a lot faster.”

“That’s not how the Vorcrueshen works, boy.” Dussel rumbles. “The Abyss is a massive stellar nursery. It’s not like open space; it’s a maze wreathed in gas and dust, filled with strange things. You try to cut across it or cut through it, there’s a good chance nobody’ll ever hear from you again.”

“It’s why most travel routes go around it, even though it costs extra time.” Legaci says. “And if you have to go through it, you follow the known routes and waypoints. Stray off the path, and you’ll end up lost, or in a pirate patch, or in Viralix territory, or any number of places you don’t want to be.”

“Can’t tunnel jump your way through it either, if I remember correctly. Too much weird stuff tucked away between those gas filaments.” I add. “And the system we’re heading for probably doesn’t have a bridge anchor.”

“Partially correct, and correct.” Legaci confirms. “It is possible to tunnel jump through the Vorcrueshen, but it comes with a modicum of risk, since the corsairs in the Vorcrueshen are particularly adept at tunnelspace interdictions. So unless we have a pressing need to be taking the risk, we’re going to do things the old-fashioned way: short-range warp jumps from waypoint to waypoint, and hoping that there aren’t any pirates camped out at the waypoints we’re headed towards.”

“And if there are?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“We’ll put them in their place.” Dussel answers. “They should know better than to attempt raids on paramilitary ships.”

“Well, this is all fun and all that, but alla this is gonna take hours and we prolly got better things to be doin’.” Jackrabbit says, throwing an arm over my shoulders, winking at me. “Like you finally gettin’ your date with that cute Maskling you’re sweet on.”

I clear my throat, looking away. “It’s a sparring match, not a date.” I mutter.

“Songbird, seriously. You’re not fooling anyone.” Legaci says, her hologram turning to give me a flat look. “Just admit it.”

“Hey now, Legaci, be gentle with him!” Jackrabbit says, clapping a hand to my chest. “It takes courage to throw your hat back in the ring after… how long has it been, Songbird? Twenty years?”

“Mmmmnh… something like that.” I reluctantly admit.

Ridge gives me a look. “You haven’t dated anyone in twenty years?”

“I’ve never dated anyone, period.” I mutter. “I don’t… get… interested in people often.”

“So you’re picky.” Legaci says.

“This is depressing to listen to.” Dussel says, reaching into his jacket for his flask. “I’m starting to understand why the Lieutenant’s concerned about you.”

“Hey!” Jackrabbit says, pointing at Ridge. “There is nothing wrong with taking your time finding love. Especially when you’re a vampire and you’ve got nothing but time.” Then she points at Legaci. “And there is nothing wrong with being selective about who you want to share your life with, so long as you’re willing to hold yourself to an equal standard, and change and grow when you need to.” After that, her finger swings towards Dussel. “And Sierra’s mentally incapable of actually grasping the emotional concept of love, so you should take her opinion with a whole truckload of salt.” Using the arm she’s got around my shoulders to swing me about, she starts marching me towards the door of the bridge. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’ve got a sparring match to get to!”

I don’t protest and don’t resist, feeling awkward until I’m off the bridge and the doors have closed behind us. “Uhm… thanks.” I say as we walk down the hall.

“Hey, don’t mention it, chirper!” Jackrabbit says, giving me a hearty pat on the back as she takes her arm off my shoulders. “I know what it’s like, having people judge your love life, especially as a wereckanan marrying a human.”

I nod, sighing. “I mean, you probably know, but… ever since—”

“I know, Songbird.” Jackrabbit says before I can finish, her voice a little quieter. “After what happened with you and Nova… I know.” She reaches up, a hand touching to my arm as she smiles at me. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“Thanks.” I say as we reach the elevator and step inside. “A lot of people, they just don’t get it. They don’t understand what something like that does to you.”

Pity seeps over Jackrabbit’s face as the doors close. “The hardest thing we’ll ever be asked to do is hurt the people we love.” she says, her hand moving from my arm to rest on my shoulder.

I stare at her. Something inside me is crying out at that, desperate, relieved, finally validated. I try to form words but I don’t know what to say and I can’t get them out; and when I can’t get anything out, I turn and hug her, biting my lip to keep it from trembling, because it’s all I can do.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper, my voice wavery and uneven. “It’s just… nobody really gets it… but you get it, you understand, and I…”

“Hey kid, it’s alright.” Jackrabbit says softly, wrapping her arms around me. Like a mother would’ve, rocking a little. “You never wanted to hurt her. I know that.”

“Why did she have to betray us?” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut. “We could’ve fixed things. We could’ve saved the program. I know it was broken, but we could’ve fixed it. She didn’t have to betray us to CURSE.”

“You couldn’t control her choices.” Jackrabbit murmurs, running a hand up and down the back of my neck. “What she chose to do wasn’t your fault. And what you did, you did to protect the rest of us from the choices she made.” Leaning back, she takes my face in both hands, looking right into my eyes. “Nobody ever told you that. You are not responsible for the choices that Nova made, and you shouldn’t have been punished for the actions you took to protect the rest of us. I didn’t realize that nobody ever told you that until Sierra brought you onto the project with us, but I can see it now.” Reaching up with her thumbs, she gently wipes at the dampness collecting in the corners of my eyes. “You have carried that burden for the last fifteen years. You don’t have to carry it anymore.”

I can’t help but slump a little on hearing that, leaning forward to rest my forehead against Jackrabbit’s. After all these years, having someone see, having someone finally understand what happened, it felt like it wasn’t crushing me under that weight anymore. And it wasn’t just that someone understood what happened, but that they understand how much it hurt to have to do what I did. To have to hurt someone that I had cared about for years, in order to protect others that I was responsible for. To protect my Challenger family.

“Thank you.” I choke out, my voice thick and low with emotion. “For the longest time, I just… when the whole galaxy’s screaming that it’s your fault…”

“The rest of the galaxy wasn’t there. They don’t know shit. And you don’t have to carry that anymore.” Jackrabbit says gently, stroking my cheek. “We’re starting again. Fresh start. Clean slate. You’ve even got a whole new love interest to go along with it.” The last part said with a cheeky smile.

I can’t help but let out a sharp hiccup of laughter at that, wiping at my eyes. “Ha. Yeah. Just as wild as the last one, right?”

“She’s a handful, that’s for sure.” Jackrabbit grins, letting go of my face. “I think you’ve got a type.”

“Maybe.” I say, taking a few deep breaths and trying to compose myself. “Thanks, Jack. It means a lot to me. That you… understand how hard it was. Only Ratchet really knew, and, and after she was gone, nobody really… got it.”

“Don’t sweat it, kid.” Jackrabbit says, reaching over and tapping the screen on the elevator’s panel. “They put you through hell fifteen years ago. When we caught up with you last year, I was worried you’d be different. That you’d be angry and jaded, and not the person that you used to be.”

“I tried not to be.” I admit as the elevator starts moving. “I was angry. I’m still angry, even fifteen years later. Just thinking about all of it, everything that happened, it burns me up. But I try to put it away and focus on the future.”

“I can tell.” Jackrabbit says. “You were quiet when we finally brought you onboard last year. More withdrawn. Least from what I could remember from last time I’d seen you. But you still had that sense of right and wrong. You didn’t lose that.”

I look away. “I dunno. I feel like I lost myself after Ratchet died. I wandered until I got caught, and then I folded and took the resettlement agreement when they had me incarcerated.” I pause to gather myself. “I’m not proud of that. It was a low point, and I feel like I gave up. I gave in. I let CURSE win. And everything we did in those last years, all the people that died resisting them and holding them back from taking us down… at that moment it felt like it was all for nothing, because they won in the end.”

“We all have our moments, Songbird.” Jackrabbit says. “We can’t be strong all the time. I don’t blame you after what happened to you; you had it rough, losing Ratchet, and then getting forced off the world you were staying. I’m not sure what I woulda done in your position, but I’m sure you did the best you could with what you had.” Then the elevator comes to a halt, and the doors open. Jackrabbit smiles again, motioning out into the hall. “Look on the bright side, though! We’re gettin’ the gang back together and you’ve got a cute girl waiting to get physical with you!”

“God, Jack, did you have to put it that way?” I groan as I follow her out, but it’s in good fun. “I swear, if you make commentary like that while we’re sparring…”

“Me and Sierra have already taken bets on which one of you’s gonna pin the other down first.”

“Seriously, Jack?!”

“My money’s on Kiwi.”

“Wow. Just wow.”

“Hey, nothing’s stopping you from proving me wrong.”

“You’re just trying to bait me into pinning her down so you can get a giggle and a dirty joke out of it.”

“Me? I’d never!… although I do have a few good ones lined up if that happens.”

“You’re almost as bad as Sierra sometimes… but for the sake of proving you wrong, I’ll consider it.”

GalaxyGuide App

Vorcrueshen Abyss

A vast area on the edge of the galaxy that covers several hundred cubic lightyears, the Vorcrueshen Abyss is one of the more mysterious regions of the Myrrdicato. It is much harder to observe the systems within it due to the shroud of gas and dust that it is composed of, and this also lends itself to a host of navigational issues that are not typically found in other parts of the galaxy. As a result, the Abyss is occupied primarily by the Viralix Empire, and pirate groups, both of which strongly value the protection that the Abyss affords to those that make it their home. A smattering of other races and groups can be found within the Abyss, though their presence is not as strongly defined.

Within the Abyss itself, there are a number of stellar phenomena, the most common of which are proto-systems that are in the aeons-long process of collapsing into proper solar systems. It is rumored that the remains of ancient civilizations like the Dragine lurk within the long and winding shroud of the stellar nursery, and such rumors are often the basis of academic expeditions into the Abyss to further explore poorly-understood systems or hidden worlds. This naturally comes with a certain amount of risk, as pirates are all too eager to prey on wayward or underarmed vessels, and the Viralix Empire does not look kindly upon intrusions into their territory.

The Abyss is also known to be a region frequented by the Collective, though almost entirely as a matter of transit, rather than loitering or residence. The reason for this is unclear, but the functional theory of most major security institutions is that the Collective enjoy certain transit privileges as part of their unconventional alliance with the Viralix. It is believed that the Collective do not possess a foothold in the Abyss, and so long as they do not attempt to establish one, they are allowed to pass through it without harassment from the Viralix armada.

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

M.V. Accatria: Exercise Room

1:19pm SGT

When the doors to the exercise room open, the first thing I see is Renchiko and Cahriu on the sparring mat. Cahriu’s holding a punching bag still for Renchiko, who is practicing her Jai Te kicks on it. Sierra, Luci, Tarocco, and Kiwi are watching along the sides of the room, calling advice every now and then.

“Alright, put up the punching bag, it’s time for the main event!” Jackrabbit calls as we wind around some of the exercise equipment. “You’re going to get to watch and see how two highly trained professionals square off against each other.”

“Hey, it’s about damn time!” Sierra says, raising the glass of blood she’s been sipping on. “I’ve been looking forward to this for ages.”

“Oh, great. We’re gonna have an audience.” I mutter as we reach the sparring mat, and Jackrabbit helps Cahriu slide the punching bag along its ceiling-mounted track, and off the mat area. “Lovely.”

“Ah, quit yer bitchin’, Songbird.” Sierra scoffs. “We’ve been in hyperspace for over a week already, and we’re prolly gonna be in hyperspace for at least another month. We need entertainment, and this hits the spot.”

“Suppose that’s my cue.” Kiwi says, stretching her arms over her head before standing up. “Don’t worry, Blueberry. I’ll take it easy on you.”

“Oh, you’ll take it easy on me?” I say skeptically.

“Let’s be honest, we all know I’ve already won.” she say, shrugging off her jacket with a playful grin. “All that’s left to figure out is how we get there.”

I start to do the same, pulling off my longcoat. “What’s the point of the match if we already know the outcome?”

Luci takes his lollipop out of his mouth. “It’s like watching a movie. You know the heroes are gonna win, but you still want to see the big fight with the bad guy.”

“Oh, so now I’m the bad guy?” I say, dropping my coat beside the mat before stepping onto it.

“I mean, you have been for the last fifteen years, according to CURSE.” Sierra points out. “So this should be a snap for you.”

“Alright, we’ve gotta set some ground rules.” Jackrabbit says as Kiwi and I make our way to the middle of the mat. “First: no explosions. Second: no flames. In fact, nothing that would damage the exercise room is allowed.”

“No explosions? Now where’s the fun in that?” Kiwi says as she shakes her hands, her wristmarks glowing to life.

“Dussel’s still butthurt over losing the Bulwark.” Sierra says, hooking the hand with her glass over her knee. “Probably best not to trash the exercise room on one of his surviving battlecruisers.”

“And no projectiles, Kiwi.” Tarocco calls from the bench where she’s sitting. “We’ve got any audience here and we don’t want anyone to be injured by friendly fire.”

“I don’t like how all these rules seem to be directed at me.” Kiwi mutters as her rune circles start to orbit her wrists.

I smile, folding my arms. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have such a violent combat approach, then.”

Kiwi steps forward, walking her fingers up my chest. “And maybe you should stop holding back so much, Mr. Masochist.”

“I’m not a masochist.” I say, catching her fingers before they reach my neck.

“For someone that’s not a masochist, you let yourself get smacked around an awful lot.” she says, pulling her fingers away.

“I prefer to attempt deescalation before resorting to violence.” I reply. “Any more rules, Jackrabbit?”

“There are, yes.” Jackrabbit says. “No bladed weapons, no attempt at actual harm, and for you particularly, Songbird — no Sparking off.”

That gets my attention, and I pull my attention from Kiwi to find that Jackrabbit’s looking directly at me, the usual joviality absent from face. It’s one of the rare instances when I’ve seen her serious, which coming from Jackrabbit, is vaguely unsettling. “Yeah, of course. You know I wouldn’t do something like that for a practice match.”

“Oh c’mon, Jackrabbit!” Sierra whines. “You’re takin’ all the fun out of it!”

“It’s not up for debate, Nympho.” Jackrabbit says.

“She’s right, Sierra.” I say, reaching down and pulling my ninjato hilts off my belt, holding them out to Jackrabbit. “It’s just a sparring session, I’m not gonna go all out for this.”

“Wait, if he doesn’t have his swords and he can’t do his lightning-eyes thingy, what’s he got?” Kiwi demands as Jackrabbit backs to the edge of the room. “This’ll be like kicking a puppy!”

“Well, he is a sonic sorcerer, so if you let him get amped up—” Sierra starts.

“Nope. Not doing that, that’s too much power for a contained area like this.” I say, shutting that down before it can get traction.

Sierra throws a free hand up in exasperation. “He’s got nothing, then. You may commence with the puppy kicking.”

Kiwi’s mouth twists up in frustration. “I can’t fight him like this, it’s no fair! I’d win!” she says, motioning a hand towards me.

“Why, because you’ve got magic?” I ask. “That doesn’t guarantee a victory for you.”

“Maybe not, but it definitely tilts things in my favor. Like, a lot.” she says. “Magic is pretty much all I use in combat. It’s like giving me access to my full arsenal while you’ve got what, your fists?”

“He’s good at Jai Te. That’s something.” Jackrabbit points out.

Kiwi folds her arms, her rune circles fizzling out. “I refuse to fight him when he’s basically unarmed. I wouldn’t mind slapping him around if I was pissed off at him, but I’m not there right now.”

“And that’s how you deescalate a situation and win by forcing your opponent into dialogue through stubborn pacifism.” I say, winking at Renchiko.

At that, Kiwi scowls at me and flicks one of her wristmarks back on, pointing her hand in my direction and releasing a displacement ripple that throws me flat on my back. I groan as I prop myself up on my elbows. “It’s important that you save the gloating for later, when your opponent’s not around, though.” I add.

“C’mon, y’all gotta do something!” Sierra protests. “We took bets on this match!”

“Well, let’s look at this practically.” I say, opting to remain on the ground for now. “Why are we really doing this? Me and Kiwi are never going to fight each other. If I’m her handler, that means we’re on the same side.”

“If you think Kiwi wouldn’t fight her handler, you’re in for a rough ride.” Tarocco says. “You might have to do it one day to rein her in when she’s going off the rails.”

Kiwi rolls her eyes. “That hasn’t happened in a while.”

Tarocco raises an eyebrow at Kiwi. “Kakarat Junkbelt?”

Kiwi waves that off. “Okay, but—”

“Jaeger Shipyards.”

“That handler was a coward!”

“Moros-8.”

“That was over five years ago, that doesn’t count!”

“The point is that she’s got some issues with impulse control.” Tarocco says, speaking at me now. “As her handler, it will be your job to enable her and keep her powered, but also to rein her in when she’s getting out of control. That’s the point of seeing how you match up against her. If you can’t control her, then we’ve got a problem.”

“Okay, fair enough.” I say. “But if I want to rein her in, I’m going to talk to her, not smack her around.”

“That’s cute, blues clues, but I can attest from personal experience: she gets a little carried away sometimes.” Cahriu says from where he’s leaning back against the wall, arms folded. “Don’t get me wrong, I support you one hundred percent, but you’ve also gotta face reality: she’s a bit of a loose cannon when she really gets into it.”

Kiwi lets out an aggravated growl. “Guys! You realize that I am standing right here? I can hear you all trash talking me!”

“Yes, but you don’t listen to us.” Tarocco points out. “You don’t listen to anyone. Except maybe Forecast, and he had to leave to go supervise Venox’s extraction from the CURSE HQ. So the only one that’s gonna be holding your leash for the next month or so…” Tarocco points at me. “…is him.”

“And I’ll rein her in when I need to.” I say. “We don’t need a match to prove that. If she’s getting out of control, then I’ll reel her back in, and I won’t have to do it by force. I’ll ask her to dial it back, and she’ll listen to me. Simple as that.”

“Yeah. Simple as that.” Kiwi agrees quickly.

“Except when she doesn’t listen to you.” Tarocco counters without missing a beat. “I don’t want proof you can beat her, Songbird. I want proof that you’re not going to let her steamroll you when she need to be reined in. I want proof that you’re gonna push back when she pushes you. I want proof that you’re not going to pull your punches, and that you’re gonna lock her down when she becomes a danger to herself and others.”

“Why are you such a hardass all the sudden?” Kiwi demands, scowling at Tarocco.

“ ‘Cause Forecast isn’t here.” Tarocco retorts. “He can’t step in and lay down the law if you’re being obstinate. So that’s my job while he’s gone.”

“Alright, alright, fine.” I say, sitting up and starting to get back to my feet. “You just want proof that I’ll deck her as hard as she deserves if she’s getting carried away?”

“That’s all we want.” Tarocco says, giving a shrug. “Prove that to us and we’ll be happy to let you two go into the field together. In fact, it doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Just a good old hand to hand fight. No magic and no weapons.”

“Alright. If that’s what makes you happy, that’s what we’ll do.” I say, rolling my shoulders and sizing up Kiwi. “You ready for this, Kiwi?”

She puffs a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Not just gonna fold. You’re gonna have to work for it.”

“Yeah, that’s it, girl! Make him earn it!” Sierra cheers from her bench, pumping her fist.

I sigh and look at Sierra. “If you’re going to be catcalling the whole tiOOPH—”

Next thing I know I’m flat on my back on the mat again, with the air knocked out of me and Kiwi on top of me. She’d tackled me the moment I’d taken my eyes off her to reply to Sierra, and she’s already pinning my arms down. “I told you this the first time we met, but I don’t play fair.” she says smugly, her fingers tightening around my wrists.

“Not off to a great start, blues clues.” Cahriu calls, and I can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Didn’t even get a proper countdown to match start.” I groan, trying to get my arms off the mat. Kiwi’s putting a lot of pressure on them, though; she’s got a pretty good pin on me.

“Aww, can’t get up?” Kiwi coos, leaning down a little. “Guess this means I win this rouOOWW!”

She reels away from my headbutt, her grip on my wrists slacking as she jerks back. Shoving myself up, I throw her off me before she can recover, scrambling back to my feet as she does the same, clutching the red mark on her forehead. “You haven’t won this round yet.” I pant, finding my balance again.

“Gods, what’s your skull made of? Granite?” Kiwi demands, shaking her head. “I think you killed a few of my brain cells just now.”

“Eh, you weren’t using ‘em anyway.” I say, starting to bounce on my toes and circling her, bringing my hands up.

“Callin’ me dumb?” she demands, starting to circle as well.

“Nah, just impulsive.”

She lunges at me, zagging to one side before cutting back around to the other, angling her shoulder into my ribs. I’m ready this time, and rather than getting bowled over, I set a foot back, bracing myself against the tackle. As soon as she hits me, I wrap my arms around her and twist, slinging her around me and across the mat. I follow up on her as she struggles to get her balance, only to catch a foot in the ankle that nearly has me faceplanting on the mat. Catching myself on my hands, I roll out of the way a half-second before she tries to drop an elbow on the spot where I was. Popping back to my feet, I start to circle again, seeing if I can get her back to one of the walls we’ve migrated towards.

“What even are we doing?” she says, bringing her hands up. “Mixed martial arts? I have no idea what this is supposed to be.”

“I dunno. Whatever works, I guess.” I say, sizing up her legs. If I can sweep them, I can knock her flat and pin her down, but she’s keeping a wide stance. It’s going to be hard to knock her down if I can’t get both legs at once. But the longer I spend thinking about it, the more time she has to plan, so I lunge forward, starting to go low.

Her response is to turn and jump towards the wall, kicking off of it in a way that spins her back around towards me. Horror races through me in the instant that I realize what she’s doing, and I try to skid to a halt to avoid the incoming scissor-leg grab, but it’s too late. In the next second I’m staggering backwards with a pair of legs wrapped around my head, the heels of her shoes digging into my back as she slams her joined fists down on my head.

“Goddammit!” I shout, reaching up to grab her thighs, trying to pry her off as I stagger around. I can’t see anything but her shirt and the buckle of her belt, and on the edges of my vision, Jackrabbit and Sierra are howling with laughter. “What are you, some sort of facehugging Collective parasite?!”

“You’re supposed to fall over!” Kiwi shouts back, slamming her fists into my head again.

“You didn’t do the move right!” I snap back at her, trying to figure out where I am on the mat. “In a flying scissor throw you’re suppose to use your torso as the counterweight to drag the other person down, not sit on their shoulders!”

“HAAA! Oh my gods! HAA! Hahaha! Oh gods I’m dying!” Sierra cackles from somewhere off to the side. “Is anyone recording this?”

“No recordings!” I shout back at her, wincing as Kiwi slams her fists down on my skull again. Once I figure out where the wall is, I tilt forwards and charge unsteadily towards it, rewarded with the sound of Kiwi grunting as her back slams against the wall.

“Just give up already!” she groans, slamming the heels of her shoes into my back as if she was trying to get me to fold.

“You give up first!” I retort, bracing my hands against the wall so I can push off it. Staggering away from the wall, I try to pry her legs off my head again, but it’s damn near impossible when she’s got her ankles locked behind my back and pounding on my head with her fists. Realizing that it’s going to impossible to get her off me like this, I twist in place, steady myself, then deliberately tip forward.

“Wait nonononoNO!” Kiwi yells when she realizes what’s about to happen, but it’s too late — we’re already falling forward. Kiwi’s leglock around my head loosens as her back slams into the mat, knocking the breath out of her, and I struggle free of her legs as she wheezes and coughs.

“I win.” I pant at her, sitting heavily on the mat. “Holy shit.”

“Oh gods! Oh gods, have mercy!” Jackrabbit gasps, kicking her feet on the floor as she hugs her sides, laughing uncontrollably. “I can’t breathe! Oh gods that made my day!”

I look around to see that the others are in a similar state of stitches. Cahriu’s slapping a knee, Tarocco is holding a hand over her mouth, trying to hide her giggling, and Luci and Sierra are collapsed against each other, howling with laughter. Renchiko is wiping tears from her eyes, she’s laughing so hard, and Ridge, who turned up halfway through the match, is staring at us like we’re all maniacs.

Running a hand through my hair, I look at Tarocco. “There. Happy now?” I huff at her. “If I can put up with that, I’m pretty sure I’m cut out to be her handler.”

“Y-yes. That’s g-good enough.” Tarocco giggles past her hand. “I know this is supposed to be serious, but I just can’t right now. I need a moment.”

“Screw you, Tarocco.” Kiwi groans from the mat.

“What the hell just happened?” Ridge demands. “Why was she sitting on your shoulders like that?”

I raise a hand, pointing it at Ridge. “Don’t even.” I pant.

“That’s what we call ‘a relationship preview’.” Cahriu cackles, sending everyone into a fresh fit of laughter.

“That’s terrible. We should really stop.” Luci gasps. “But… you might say she had him right where she wanted him!”

Sierra shrieks with laughter, slapping at Luci. “Aaaah! Stop stop stop! Gods, I didn’t live thirteen thousand years just to die from laughing!”

“I didn’t expect him to keep his balance!” Kiwi protests, propping herself up on her elbows. “I thought it’d knock him over when I jumped him!”

“Kiwi, just don’t. You’re just digging the hole deeper.” Tarocco warbles, wiping her eyes. “Oh man. Yeah I’m pretty sure we’re done for today. I won’t be able to focus on work after watching that. Anyone else wanna go get lunch?”

“Yeah, yeah we should get lunch.” Jackrabbit chuckles, running her hands through her short hair. “That’s a good comedown after all that. Oh, and Sierra, you owe me and Val a visit to the Lazarus Spa on Sybione. Kiwi got the first pin on Songbird.”

“Yeah yeah, remind me of it whenever you two are on Sybione and I’ll call in one of my favors.” Sierra says, waving it off as she stands up. Coming over to Kiwi, she helps her to her feet, then does the same for me. “You two just made my day. I’m gonna be laughing about that years from now. If you two want any suggestions about interesting positions to try out—”

“Nope. Nope. Stop right there. We don’t need anything along those lines.” I say, going to collect my longcoat.

“Oh, I dunno. Vampire as old as she is, I figure she’s got some interesting tips.” Kiwi says as she gathers up her jacket.

“Eh, you’re that far along already?” Luci snickers, elbowing me.

“What?! No, we’re not—” I stutter, before hunching my shoulders and marching for the door of the exercise room, grumbling as I go. “I hate all of you.”

“Alright, alright guys, that’s enough.” Jackrabbit says, jogging to catch up with me and throw an arm over my shoulders. “I think we’ve given these two enough grief for today. They’ve been good sports and we should respect that.” Grinning, she squeezes me a little closer as she goes on in a lower tone. “Don’t worry about it, chirper. You’re embarrassed about it now, but you’ll laugh about it when you’re older. Memories like these are what give a relationship depth and nuance — it’s not just the romantic sunsets and the kisses in the rain.”

I don’t respond to that, but I do glance over my shoulder. Kiwi’s pulling her jacket on, rolling her eyes as Tarocco and Cahriu keep razzing her. When she spots me looking at her, she just smirks, not in a mocking way, but almost as if she was asking we’re not gonna live this down anytime soon, are we?

And in that moment, smiling back at her, I feel closer to her, even though we’re not anywhere near each other at the moment.

GalaxyGuide App

Open Space, Dark Space, and Empty Space

When speaking of space in the abstract or general sense, there are three terms that one hears often: open space, dark space, and empty space. These are simple terms used to describe the political and physical astrography of the galaxy at large, though their meaning and how they actually apply to the reality of the galaxy can be elusive or subject to interpretation. Each of the three terms is covered below, in their textbook usage.

Open space, in the general sense, refers to any territory or region that belongs to a nation or sovereign state that is part of the Colloquium, and permits non-native civilian travel through that space. The ‘open’ part of the term springs from this fact: it is ‘open’ for more or less anyone to travel through for any largely civilian or commercial purpose. Open space is often synonymous with Colloquium influence, as the areas that are considered open space usually belong to member nations of the galactic Colloquium. The general association of this term is that open space is known space; considered safe for trade, travel, and tourism; well-mapped and explored; and generally protected by the various militaries of the Colloquium member nations. Open space is a certainty, a known quantity, a settled and civilized territory.

Dark space, by contrast, is considered the inexact opposite of open space. The original use of the term was specifically in reference to regions of the galaxy that were unmapped or had not yet been explored, but use of the term expanded over the centuries to encompass a range of political and economic considerations. In current parlance, dark space largely refers to three things: space that has not been explored or thoroughly mapped; territories that are not open to non-native civilian or business travel; and any territory that is controlled by the Collective. Dark space is commonly associated with the unknown, the unfamiliar, and with marauding pirate fleets that operate outside the safe borders provided by Colloquium member nations. However, there are some dark space systems owned by Colloquium member nations; typically these systems are off-limits and used for military testing and research. The Viralix Empire, despite being a full member of the Colloquium, exists nearly entirely within dark space systems, which are heavily patrolled by the Viralix military.

Empty space is not used as often as open space and dark space, but is still an important term in galactic geography. Empty space refers to what are called stellar voids — areas of the galaxy which appear to be empty, or have a much lower star density. These areas typically exist in the troughs between the spiral arms of the galaxy, and on the far edges of the galaxy itself, where the distances between neighboring star systems are much greater. Despite being distanced from more heavily populated regions of the galaxy, empty space systems serve a vital role in travel and trade routes that bridge the arms of the galaxy, providing essential waypoints for interstellar vessels that need to refuel, repair, and resupply during long journeys.

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

M.V. Accatria: Port Observation Lounge

4:29pm SGT

When I step into the observation lounge, I’m expecting it to be empty. It’s part of the circuit I take around the ship when I’m going on walks to stay active; I’ll usually walk the entire length of the ship just to get around. If I didn’t go on my daily walk, I’d probably only wander through a few rooms in the course of an average day — and that’d get old real fast.

But when I arrive to the observation lounge today, I find that Commander Dussel’s there, standing by the window and staring out at the hazy torus of the nascent star within this protosystem. He turns on hearing the door open, and catches sight of me; reaching up, he takes his vape out of his mouth. “Mr. Acceso.” he says, turning back to the window.

“Commander.” I reply, slowing down, and considering whether I should just exit through the other door. Usually I took my time on the observation lounges, but the Commander looked like he would like some alone time. “Apologies for disturbing you.”

“No need to apologize. It’s a public room.” he replies without turning around. “I gather you had an enlightening sparring match with the Mask Knight today.”

“Yes, ‘enlightening’… we’ll call it that.” I mutter before going on. “How are the preparations for the next jump going?”

“Completed. Engineering is performing checks on the warp drive to ensure it is in working order and won’t be overly taxed by another multi-day jump. The same is happening for the Narcusa.” He motions his vape to the dark shadow of the smaller ship off the port side of the Accatria — a smaller frigate called the Narcusa. The Voliburn and the other frigate in the Dussel fleet had taken a different track out in open space, ostensibly to draw CURSE’s attention and act as a diversion while we delved into the Vorcrueshen. “Once the drive check comes back clear for both ships, we can start our jump to the next waypoint.”

“That’s good.” I say, lingering since it feels like it’d be rude to leave at this point. “We’ll have enough fuel for the trip back?”

“Our reserves should be more than sufficient. The Bulwark itself, after being fully resupplied, would’ve removed any concern about fuel reserves, but we make do with what we can given our circumstances.” Dussel says, taking a draw from his vape.

“Yeah. It would’ve been nice to have it in a place like this.” I agree, stepping closer to the window so I can study the distant grooves in the system’s accretion disk.

“Yes, it would’ve.” Dussel says tersely.

I glance at him, and I can see the stormy set of his rugged face. It resembles the expression he was wearing when he stomped out of his meeting with Drill back on Hale’ohe, the slow-burning anger of a man repeatedly dealt a bad hand of cards. Clearly the loss of the Bulwark still bothers him, even three weeks later.

“I’m sorry about what happened to the Bulwark.” I say after a moment, opting to look out the window rather than at him. “I know it’s difficult to lose a big asset like that.”

“It was more than just an asset.” Dussel mutters, blowing out some vape smoke. “Nations, planets, system governments — they could easily commission a mobile fortress. They command the revenue needed for those sort of purchases. But for a midrank mercforce like mine, buying one of those, even secondhand, was the pinnacle of our expansion into a respectable mercforce. I’d been paying off that thing for the last fifteen years. It was our growth plan for the next forty years; we’ve got a fleet of four ships but it could’ve serviced a fleet of ten. Fifteen years of work, and all it took was an hour to see it turned into target practice for another mercforce doing CURSE’s dirty work.”

I soak that in. “That’s rough.” I say quietly. I feel impelled to tell him that it was for a good cause — that the Valiant Project is worth the loss — but Dussel isn’t here for the same reasons the rest of us are. He’s here because he’s getting paid, not because he believes in the Project.

“I envy you sometimes, you know.” Dussel says, sizing up his vape. “I’ve seen how much you own. You have practically nothing to lose. No home, no ships, no property, probably no money either. Your entire life could fit into a four-door sedan with room to spare. You’re not tied to anything; you could just get up and leave if you wanted. You never have to worry about defending something, or someone, from someone trying to take it away from you, or trying to destroy something you’ve worked for years to create.”

“I have nothing to lose because I’ve already lost everything.” The reply comes quicker, more easily this time. A retort, not quite sharp, but not quite meek either. “I know what it’s like to lose things, Commander; it’s why I expressed my condolences for the loss of the Bulwark. I know what it’s like to dedicate years of your life to something, only to watch it slowly crumble in front of you.”

Dussel glances askance, as if reevaluating me. “Yes.” he rumbles. “I suppose you would, wouldn’t you.”

“Yes, I would.” I say. “Be thankful you still have your fleet. Your men are still loyal to you; nobody has turned on you, and nobody has defected to an organization hellbent on the systematic eradication of everything that you stood for, and everyone that you fought beside. You envy that I have nothing to lose.” I look at him at this point. “I envy that you still have something to lose.”

Dussel doesn’t answer right away, raising his vape and taking another puff of it. “I had a brother that was part of the Challenger program, you know.” he says eventually.

Some part of me feels like I should be surprised, but I’m not. “I’m guessing he didn’t make it out.” I say, tucking my hands in the pockets of my longcoat as I go back to looking out at the protostar.

“He didn’t.” Dussel says, smoke drifting between his lips. “He hung in there a long time, though. Right up until the fall of the Citadel. That was after the Incident, after the program started to fall apart, as I’m sure you’re well aware.”

“Quite.”

“I had told him, after the Incident, that he needed to get out.” Dussel goes on, folding his arms. “I could see where it was going, and I knew even then there was no saving it. But he didn’t listen to me. He stayed in because of that stupid Venusian honor. See it through until the end and all that.”

“I’m sorry.” There’s not really much else I can say to that.

“I did blame you, if I must be honest.” he says, rolling his vape between his fingers. “For a while I figured that if you hadn’t gotten caught killing Nova, the public never would’ve turned on the program, and my brother would still be alive. But then I realized that what killed him wasn’t your mistake, but his blind devotion to the Challenger ideals.”

“And that he was a fool for believing in them?” I ask, having some idea of where this is going.

“No. Well, yes. But I can hardly blame him.” he says, exhaling the last of the smoke in his mouth. “We all want something to believe in, to give our lives purpose and meaning. My brother and I come from a Venusian military family, so I know what that’s like. We were raised with a sense of duty, of honor, of service to king and nation. We each rejected that in our own way — he joined the Challengers, I went into merc work — but each of us was searching for something. He wanted to fight for something bigger than nation, and I wanted to actually get decently compensated for fighting. I razzed him for it, but years down the line, I can see that he was a bigger man than me.”

“Is that why you agreed to help us?” I ask, starting to connect the dots.

“No, I agreed to help you because of the money.” Dussel says, taking another puff of his vape. “But that’s not to say I don’t understand why you do it. I think of my brother every time you lot are making your plans to spit in CURSE’s eye, and I struggled to understand it for the longest time. You lost the war ten years ago and you’ve lost everything, and yet here you are, trying to get it all back, even when the odds stacked against you are massive. And I didn’t understand it until we lost the Bulwark.”

“You realized you’d fight and you’d do anything to protect the survivors of your group. That you couldn’t just accept the loss and roll over.” I say, filling in what I know is coming. “That you had a duty to the people that fought beside you and fought for you.”

“Not only that, but that you have a duty to give them a future.” Dussel says, smoke seeping from between his lips. “And you’ll do whatever has to be done to make sure that they have that.”

“I’m glad you understand.” I reply. “Though it’s not just for the sake of the group that we’re doing this. We’re doing it for the sake of everyone else out there that’ll need our help once we’re a proper organization again.”

“You’ll need to start recruiting for that. Two teenagers and a handful of vets from the old days isn’t gonna cut it.” Dussel says.

“We’re already helping the Masklings.” I point out.

“Kid, you don’t even got any ships.” Dussel says. “And my fleet ain’t gonna be a permanent solution. You’re going to need to start building your own outfit eventually. Getting your own people, your own ships, with a proper command structure and revenue streams. If you really want to build something out of the ashes of the Challengers, you’re going to need to recruit people that believe in what you’re doing. You can’t pad your ranks with mercs and expect the galaxy to believe in you, because mercs don’t believe in the cause. They only believe in your pocketbook.”

I nod reluctantly. “Easier said than done.”

He reaches up, giving me a hefty pat on the back with one of his meaty hands. “You’ll figure it out. If I learned anything from my brother, it’s that there’s plenty more where he came from. Plenty of people out there wanting something to believe in. Something to fight for.” Huffing the last of the smoke from his mouth, he turns off his vape and pockets it. “I should get going. There’s some insurance issues I had to deal with; namely, that we don’t appear to have any, since we’ve been blacklisted by the Colloquium.”

“Oof.” I say, wincing. “That sounds bad.”

“That is correct.” Dussel says. “The insurance company no longer considers our mercforce legitimate, which means no payouts for the families of the mercs that died at the Bulwark, and no payout for losing the Bulwark itself. So I’m going to go see if the mercforce’s legal team has managed to resolve that headache, or if it’ll have to come out of company coffers. Until we meet again, Mr. Acceso.”

“Have a good one, Commander.” I say as his lumbering stride takes him back towards the door. It’s only when I hear the door clunk shut behind him that I return my attention to the vista beyond the window. The accretion disk still glowing in pink and orange hues, the forming star at its center glowing dimly through its cocoon. The promise of a brand new system, a young star with worlds that might one day host life and new beginnings. So much potential, even if it didn’t look like much right now.

Hopefully the same was true for the Valiant Project.