Valiant

[Valiant #22: Boarding Party]

Log Date: 2/2/12764

Data Sources: Feroce Acceso, Kiwi

Event Log: Rewind: 35 years ago

Kjurrtik: Havelock County

She didn’t know how to speak.

I didn’t know where she came from. Just that she was there one day, underneath the red tree. Staring up at it, the ever-crimson leaves amidst the sea of green. She looked about my age. But there was no way to tell, since… y’know. She didn’t know how to talk. As I quickly found out.

She was gangly and awkward, some cross between bird and human. Covered in strange markings and patterns that wrapped around her feathered arms and her starved ribcage, twined around thin legs that she tottered unsteadily on. Like a chick, really. Unsteady on its feet after hatching, doddering around and prone to falling over. A mouthful of teeth that looked like they belonged to a piranha, often hanging open in curiosity or bared in an eager smile. Big eyes, too, avid and expressive to make up for the language she didn’t know. And tall, fluffy ears, half a foot long, comically large, flitting and twisting and showing all the emotions she didn’t have the words to speak. She was clumsy, dirty, awkward, not exactly bright — nothing like the exotic warrior princess the hero always meets in the woods.

But she became my secret,

my friend,

my first story.

All sawtooth smiles and feathers, little chirps and squeaks, moments in the sun and the showers of spring. We were children together, and even though it would only last for a season, everything about that season would define everything about me as I became older. Years after she was gone, the memory of her would force me to question everything I had been taught. Years after she was gone, I would still remember.

Feathers, and a carefree sawtooth smile.

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

M.V. Accatria: Feroce’s Quarters

4:42am LST

My eyes snap open.

The room is dark. Ridge is gently snoring on the bunk above, and the panel by the door is showing that it’s still in the early hours of the morning, if there was such a thing as morning on an interstellar ship. Aside from the background hum of the ship’s systems, all is still and quiet.

Letting out a sigh, I roll and get out of bed.

The images still linger in my mind, behind my eyes. The tree, the feathers, that jagged smile from decades ago. I’d only been a child back then, only eight years old.

It was strange, the things that stayed with us.

The metal floor is cold against my socks, and I stand, taking care to be quiet. Grabbing my hoodie off the locker at the foot of the bed, I throw it on, putting my hands together and generating a muffling sphere between them. Expanding it to encompass the door, I open it and slip out, only letting the sphere collapse once it’s closed again. I don’t want to wake Ridge up; the kid needs his sleep.

Out in the corridor, I tread the halls of the ship, my arms wrapped around myself and wishing I’d grabbed my blanket to take with me before I left the room. At this time of the day/night cycle, there aren’t many people up and about, and I don’t encounter anyone as I make my way to the observation lounge. Upon arriving there, I shuffle to the wide window, standing in front of it as I stare out into the aphotic miasma of tunnelspace.

Yet even staring into the swirling abyss, I can’t escape the grasp of my dream.

“Dayum, Songbird. You’re up early.”

At the sound of the door to the observation deck clunking open, I look around to see Jackrabbit shuffling into the observation lounge, yawning as she goes. Like me, she’s in her pajamas, though she shuffles right past me and flops on one of the couches, curling up and and rubbing at her eyes.

“I had a… dream.” I explain. This early in the morning, I’m not terribly verbose. “It woke me up.”

“You too?” she yawns. “I’m up because Val got called to deal with some merc having a mental break. It woke me up when she got up, and I couldn’t get back to sleep, so here I am. I’m like. Tired, but my body just won’t go back to sleep.”

“I know the feeling.” I reply, going back to staring at the cosmic structures of the tunnelspace outside the ship. “The lingering place, neither dreaming nor waking. Somewhere in between.”

“The lingering place. I like that. That’s a really good way of putting it.” Jackrabbit says, staring out the window as well. “What was the dream about?”

I don’t answer right away. “A memory. From when I was young. Something I’d not thought about in a while.” I watch as the ship whisks through one of the tangled fractals of dark matter that forms the unending web that we travel through. “I’ve heard tunnelspace does that to some people. Plays with their mind.”

“Yeah, that’s a thing.” Jackrabbit confirms. “But I think the effect is stronger in the Vorcrueshen than it is in the rest of the galaxy. Probably because the Viralix live here. There’s a lot of people that say this region of space is haunted, that it plays games with you.”

“Those are just rumors though, right?” I ask.

“I dunno. Are they?” Jackrabbit says, answering the question with a question.

I don’t say anything more at that. I’d never put much stock in myths and urban legends; though I’d been raised as an Anayan, I didn’t consider myself terribly superstitious. If something wasn’t proven by science or the arcane, I tended not to give it much weight until it could be proven. But with the dream that I’d just woken up from, it felt like there could be some weight to Jackrabbit’s theory.

“We should probably talk about that Spark you’ve got.” Jackrabbit says, breaking the silence as she folds an arm under her head.

I tense up a little. Since it’d been almost a month without her saying anything about the little spat with Drill, I thought it’d slipped under her radar. But perhaps, she’d just been waiting for a time when we could talk about it without anybody overhearing us, and now was the perfect time for that.

“I was hoping you hadn’t noticed.” I murmur.

Jackrabbit snorts. “I had to come between you and Drill when you Sparked off, and you thought I wouldn’t notice?”

“Well, it’s not like a ton of people know what a Spark is.” I mumble defensively.

“Eh. True. But,” Jackrabbit points to herself. “I’m one too. So yeah, of course I noticed. You got yours from Ratchet, didn’t you? It’s the blue one.”

“Yeah.”

“Did she teach you how to use it?”

“She… didn’t have time to do that. She was in a bit of a hurry.”

“Ah. Right before she bit the dust, then.”

“Yeah. I figured out how to use it, though.”

“Really? On your own?”

“Yeah. I’ve got it under control.”

“It didn’t look very under control back when you were about to give Drill a piece of your mind.” Jackrabbit points out.

I scrunch up my face. “That was an exception. I wasn’t going to hurt him, though. It just… comes out when I’m like that.”

“Like what?”

“It’s hard to describe.” I say, folding my arms. “At first I thought it was triggered when I angry, but then I realized that wasn’t it. Every time I Sparked off, I learned more about what triggered it. I thought it was when I was indignant; and then I thought it was when people were in danger; then I thought it was when something needed to be protected. The truth is that it’s all those things, but it’s also something more, something bigger, something that I can’t describe, but—”

“You know it when you feel it.” Jackrabbit finishes for me.

I glance at her. “Exactly. You can just… feel it. Sometimes it’s in your control, and you can decide whether or not to Spark off, but other times, it’s like the universe is manifesting through you. You become a tool, or a messenger for some truth that needs to be told, whether through word or action.”

Jackrabbit smiles. “Your Spark must like you more than mine likes me. It doesn’t let me Spark off near as often as I’d like to, and it’s almost never triggered unbidden.” She turns on the couch so she’s lying on her back. “Maybe yours has more to say. Or maybe you’ve got more to give to the universe. Maybe your Spark knows that the galaxy needs you.”

I give a doubting snort. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“You wouldn’t. But your Spark would.” Jackrabbit says, lacing her hands behind her head. “Your life has value, Songbird. Your Spark recognizes that, even if you don’t. You can still make a difference, even after everything that’s happened. You can change the universe for the better. People will see that one day, I promise. And you might even been one of them.”

I sigh. “I envy your optimism sometim—”

I’m cut off by the sensation of the ship shifting. It’s hard to describe, but it feels like it’s being tugged to the side, starting to drift off-course, and the filaments of tunnelspace outside the window start to clot together ahead of the ship, before forming a breach that we’re headed straight forwards. The signature ominous, bassy resonance of a tunnelspace exit starts to thrum through the ship, but something’s wrong; it’s discordant, not harmonized, and there’s a strained groaning of metal throughout the ship, as if the exit was forced and not planned. As we pass through the breach, realspace comes back into view, but the typical starscape is missing — vast reaches of the cosmos are absent and blacked out, and it takes a moment for me to remember that we’re in the Vorcrueshen, with hundreds of cubic lightyears of stellar dust blocking or diffusing the light from distant stars and galaxies.

“That didn’t feel right.” Jackrabbit says, sitting up on the couch. “We’re not there already, right? I didn’t think we were supposed to arrive at the next waypoint for another couple days.”

“Something’s wrong, that wasn’t a normal tunnelspace exit.” I say, looking around. “We should go to the bridge—”

A heavy thump echoes through the ship’s hull, like something had impacted it, followed by a series of smaller thumps, as if something was locking on. A moment later, I feel a ripple pass through me, the lights on the ship going dark in the same instant. Half a second after that, I can feel the gravity turn off, a sense of weightlessness overtaking me.

“Ohhhh, fudgemuffins.” I can hear Jackrabbit say in the new darkness. “I think we just got pulsed.”

“Pirates?” I ask, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dark.

“I’m willing to put my money on pirates, yeah.” Jackrabbit replies. “At least I hope it’s pirates. I don’t want to deal with some sort of silly-buggers heebie-jeebie dark-space spooky stuff. Pirates are easier to deal with because at least you know what they want.”

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be hard to deal with if the gravity’s off.” I say, looking around and trying to remain still. The last thing I want to do right now is end up suspended in the middle of the room with nothing to grab onto and no way to orient myself. “How long will it be before the backups come—”

And again, the sound of something slamming into the ship’s hull cuts me off — though this time it’s multiple impacts, and they sound much more violent.

“Not fast enough.” Jackrabbit grunts, grabbing the back of the couch and yanking herself over it, floating towards the door. Kicking off the floor, I drift up to the ceiling, then kick off the ceiling towards the window before pivoting to launch myself off it and towards the door as well. The access pad isn’t responding to Jackrabbit’s poking and prodding. “We might need to open it manually.”

“Just cheesy.” I mutter, starting to work my way around the doorframe, looking for the manual control lever. “I haven’t heard any more impacts. What do you think — breaching pods?”

“Makes the most sense if it’s pirates, yeah.” Jackrabbit says, feeling around the other side of the doorframe. “The Accatria might be old, but it’s still a battlecruiser. Still a good addition to a fleet if you can capture it. Oh wait, I think I found it.” Flipping open a panel along the side of the door, Jackrabbit starts trying to twist the wheel within, then repositions to plant her feet against the wall for more leverage. “Hell, this is hard without gravity.”

“Looks like it’s working, through.” I say as the door starts to slide to one side. There’s a rush of cold as it cracks open to the hall beyond; I hold out a hand. “Wait — it feels like there’s air escaping through the doorway. The hall outside might have a hull breach.”

Jackrabbit pauses, both of us listening. After a moment, she looks to me. “Might’ve been breached, but I think they sealed it. There was just a pressure difference between this room and the hall; I think it’s evened itself out now.”

I nod. “That or it’s a slow leak. Either way, it’s survivable.”

Jackrabbit goes back to twisting the wheel, the door slowly inching open. Once enough of a gap has opened, I peer through into the hall, getting a glimpse of a couple figures in environmental suits further down the hall. The moment they see me, rifles are raised, and I jerk my head back as a pair of coilgun spikes bury themselves in the door.

“Yep, definitely pirates.” I grunt, repositioning myself out of the doorframe. “Seems like they’re not interested in prisoners and they’re shooting on sight. Looks like their boots are magnetized, because they’re not floating around.”

“Well, that’s a real bummer.” Jackrabbit huffs. “You said their boots were magnetized?”

I can already tell where this is going. “Jack, no. We have no weapons! We would literally be fighting in our pajamas!”

“Hmm.” Jackrabbit says, wrinkling her nose. “Alright, how about this: we take off our pajamas and throw them out into the hall as a smokescreen so we escape down the adjacent hall? It’ll deny them a clear line of sight for taking shots.”

I gape at her. “I— what— no! We’re not stripping down and using our pajamas as a smokescreen! Valkyrie would blow a fuse if I saw you in the buff!”

“Nah, she won’t mind.” Jackrabbit says, peering through the gap, then jerking her head back as another couple of coilgun spikes pang off the doorframe. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Jack, your wife will kill me! Keep your clothes on, I would rather take my chances with the pirates!” I hiss, looking back into the lounge room. “Let’s use the coffee table instead. It should be magnetized to the floor, but I should be able to get it up and we can throw it into the hall as a distraction.”

“Oh hey, there’s an idea. I dunno why I didn’t think of that.” Jackrabbit says, peering back through the gap again. “Wait, they’re gone — well, moving down the hall, but y’know. Maybe they heard us talking about our pajamas gambit and got weirded out.”

“Why would they be leaving?” I ask, pulling myself to the gap and peering through in time to see the pirates turning a corner in the hall.

“If they’re pirates, they’ll want to secure control of the trip. They’re probably headed for the bridge and engineering.” Jackrabbit says, moving back to the wheel and starting to turn it again. “We need to get back to our rooms and get geared up, and stop them.”

“Can you roll solo? I need to check on the kids and make sure they’re okay.” I ask, pulling myself out into the hall once the gap’s wide enough. “They’re probably stuck in their rooms since the ship got pulsed, but I wouldn’t put it past Renchiko to figure out how to get out of her room.”

“That’s just adorable.” Jackrabbit says, slipping through after me. “You’ll make a great dad one day. Go ahead — I can handle myself.”

“I mean, I have doubts about that…” I mumble, twisting around so I can plant my feet on the door and get in a position to launch myself down the adjacent hall. “…vampires are kinda sterile, and all…”

“Hey, that’s what adoption is for! You can still be a good parent for someone else’s crotch spawn!” Jackrabbit calls as she launches off the door and down the hall, winking and giving me a cheery Challenger salute as she drifts down the hall. “Catch you on the other side, chirper!”

I just gape at her as she coasts down the hall on that note. Crotch spawn.

Shaking my head and wishing I could delete that new phrase out of my conscious memory, I kick off the door, floating down the hall as I work my way back towards Ridge and Renchiko’s rooms.

GalaxyGuide App

Drive Types

The ability to travel faster than the speed of light is foundational to modern civilizations as we know them. Without the technologies that allow the crossing of cosmic distances, travel between different systems and planets in the galaxy would be an undertaking requiring years, decades, and even centuries instead of days, weeks, and months. Three main types of technology are responsible for the interstellar travel that makes our modern galaxy possible, which are described in brief below.

(A brief note before beginning: casual observers may be more familiar with the term ‘hyperdrive’, and will notice it is not included below. The term ‘hyperdrive’ is a blanket term that is used to refer to any faster-than-light propulsion technology (hereafter referred to as FTL for brevity’s sake) and has no actual scientific or technical basis. As a term, ‘hyperdrive’ could just as easily be used to describe a toaster as it could an interstellar ship, since the ‘hyper-’ prefix in the term refers to nothing specific in the actual function of a given drive type. However, marketing has found that the layperson finds the term ‘hyperdrive’ more exciting than the decidedly more academic ‘warp drive’, ‘tunneldrive’, and ‘bridge drive’, and it is easier for the public to group all three under the blanket term ‘hyperdrive’ despite their differing principles and modes of function.)

The earliest and most rudimentary form of FTL propulsion is what is known as a warp drive. Warp drives function by generating a point of positive mass in front of the ship, while generating a point of negative mass at its rear. The contraction and expansion of spacetime at the fore and rear of the ship creates a bubble of normal space contained within warped space, permitting a sort of gliding displacement which allows the vessel to cross distances faster than light can, without actually exceeding the speed of light. A common way to describe this in a manner which can be easily visualized is placing a marble on a flat blanket, then poking the blanket downwards in front of the marble, while pinching and lifting the blanket behind the marble. The marble will begin to slide along the blanket, not because it is providing propulsion, but because of the manipulation of the medium on which it resides. 

A more advanced form of FTL travel is the tunneldrive. A tunneldrive makes use of punching temporary holes within realspace in order to access what is colloquially called tunnelspace (in other parlances, it is referred to as witchspace or the dark matter dimension). Tunnelspace is still poorly understood, and academic institutions still study it to this day; however, it is generally understood that tunnelspace is smaller than realspace, yet still somehow connected to it, point for point, almost like a sphere contained within a sphere. As a result, traveling between two points in tunnelspace takes less time than it would traveling between those same two points in realspace. The efficiency of this travel exceeds that of warp drives, and a ship with a tunneldrive will generally arrive at a destination well before a ship with a warp drive, though the tunneldrive does require hours to warm up and engage, whereas a warp drive can often be ready to engage within minutes, depending on its size.

Finally, bridge drives are an extension of the tunneldrive concept that incorporates a preexisting network of mass beacons. Tunneldrives get their name from how ships seem to ‘tunnel’ through the filaments of tunnelspace after entering it; bridge drives make use of a mass beacon to arrange those filaments into a bridge that links two points across realspace and tunnelspace. Manipulating tunnelspace in this manner is very difficult, and bridge drives can only do this with a cooperating mass beacon on the other end of the link. Establishing a link with a mass beacon can take hours, while bridge generation can take days. However, the result is an expedited trip through tunnelspace that is faster than warp drives or tunneldrives, even when considering the days that are spent on forming a functioning bridge.

Event Log: Kiwi

M.V. Accatria: Kiwi’s Quarters

4:58am SGT

Waking up is confusing, because it’s pitch black, and I realize that I’m floating in the air.

“The hell…?” I mumble, trying to get my bearings. “Tarocco, are you there? What’s going on?”

“Mmnfgl.” is Tarocco’s response, followed by the sound of her shifting, rubbing her face, and then coming fully awake. “…the shit is going on, why’s it dark… is the gravity off?”

“Seems like it, yeah.” I say, shaking my hands so my wristmarks flare to life. Our room is thrown into shades of green shadow; I can see Tarocco floating over her bed like I am, her covers slowly twisting like they were caught in an ocean current. “Something must be going on. They don’t turn off gravity on a ship for nothing.”

“If the gravity’s off and there’s no lights, then it seems like the ship’s lost power.” Tarocco says, reaching out to touch the wall so she can turn herself slightly to face me. “That might be really bad.”

“Well, I hope the backups will kick in soon.” I say, lifting an arm and looking around the room. “Things are gonna go south fast if life support doesn’t come back—”

The sound of coilgun shots, muffled and out in the hall, has me going silent. They don’t sound close by — it seems like it’s a good ways down the corridor — but just the fact that arms fire is being exchanged on the ship is not a good sign. Tarocco and I exchange looks.

“I’m not cut out for zero-g engagements in tight quarters.” she says quickly.

“I know.” I say, reaching around to grab the side of my bed so I can pull myself around and get oriented. “I’ll take point. You got a gun you can use?”

“I’ve got a stunner in my luggage somewhere.” she says, likewise snagging her bedframe and starting to pivot around. “I’ll see if I can find it and dig it out. Where are we going first?”

“Songbird. I need to make sure he’s okay.” I say, floating over to the door and starting to feel around the doorframe, looking for manual lever for opening it. “Once I know he’s okay, we’ll go from there.”

“Seriously, Kiwi?”

“What! He’s my handler, I’m allowed to prioritize him!”

“He literally the only handler you’ve ever treated like this.”

“Well, that’s because he’s different than the others.” I say, pulling back a panel that has a twist wheel behind it. “Did you find your stunner?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, better find it soon, because I’m opening the door.” I say, starting to twist the wheel, only to find that I’ve got no leverage with the gravity offline. After a moment of fumbling, I have to plant my feet against the wall to hold myself in place while I start twisting the wheel.

“If the power is off and shots are being fired, I’m pretty sure that means we’ve been boarded.” Tarocco says as the door to our quarters slowly inches open with each twist of the wheel. “What’s the plan if the ship gets taken?”

“Are you kidding me? The ship’s not gonna get taken.” I say, rolling my eyes. “We’ve got four Challengers and me onboard. Even if they do manage to take the ship, we’ll just take it right back from them.”

“Outstanding sense of humility you’ve got there.” is Tarocco’s reply. “Would you like a slice of humble pie to go with that?”

“Bitch please, I know how much I’m worth.” I say, rolling my eyes as I continue twisting the wheel. “I’m the most powerful person on this ship—”

“Kiwi, pay attention!” Tarocco shouts, pointing to the doorway.

I look to see a there’s a figure in an evo suit standing outside, raising a coilgun rifle towards the gap in the doorway. I immediately kick off the wall, yanking my arm up, my rune circle morphing into a hexpanel shield at a single panicked thought. A trio of coilgun spikes ricochet off it a second later, cracking it and sending chips of green light flying through the air as painful vibrations go through my arm. The impact knocks me back, sending me drifting weightless through the room.

“Dammit, Kiwi!” Tarocco snaps, clicking a power cell into her stunner and pointing it at the door. A pair of white flashes light up the room as she fires through the gap. The guy with the coilgun rifle, who’d been moving towards the door to follow up, quickly backs off and out of the line of sight. “I swear, you’ve got the attention span of a caffeinated fennec sometimes…”

“I didn’t expect that we’ve have an invader right outside our door.” I mutter back at her, the runes around my other wrist starting to lengthen and flatten into an orbit of featherblades. “We can take him. The moment he shows his face, we make him regret it.”

“They’re armed!” a voice calls outside the door.

“Grenade it. The quarters are small, it should do the job.” another voice replies.

“Shit!” I hiss, reaching forward to grab the neck of Tarocco’s nightshirt and yank her back. The shield isn’t big enough to cover me, much less both of us, but it’s better than nothing. So long as it covers our vitals, it should be enough to keep us alive.

Then a line of blue light razors through the hall outside, followed by another, and a shout of pain. There’s a thud, and a moment later, one of the invaders drifts past the gap in the doorway, with a smaller, armored figure latched onto him, clawing and slashing at him. After that, another figure in an evo suit drifts past the gap more slowly, leaving a slow trail of blood from the hole in his face visor.

Tarocco and I just stay where we are, stunner and featherblades pointed at the doorway gap, listening as the sounds of struggle slowly fade.

Both of us jump when there’s the thump of something landing against the wall outside. A moment later, a head cautiously peers over the edge of the gap; it’s encased in a triangular helm that’s been customized with big, triangular ears on the top. Glowing eyes peer through the visor before the helm splits, the upper section sliding back to reveal a fuzzy, vulpine face. The whispers are already echoing in my head by the time the mouth is opening.

“Hallo. We are not here to harm. Please lower your weapons.”

For a moment I can only stare as the words continue to echo in my head. Beside me, Tarocco lowers her stunner slightly. “Oh! They’re Viralix! Wait, what are you all doing on our ship?”

Another similar helm appears on the other side of the door’s gap, peering in at us. “Your travel group has been interdicted by a Mercurial pirate fleet. Please remain in your quarters until we have cleared your vessel of all invaders.” he says, his voice echoing in our heads even as it’s filtered through his helm.

“Pirates, should’ve known.” I say, lowering my shield and pushing off the back wall so I can drift towards the door. “Do you know how many are on board?”

“We have not ascertained their numbers. Our boarding teams are clearing the ship deck by deck while the rest of our fleet chases off the Mercurials.” the first Viralix says, holding an armored pawhand out as if to stop me. “Please remain in your quarters and close your door until the ship has been secured. Wandering civilians will complicate things.”

“We’re Mask Knights, we can handle ourselves.” I say as I catch myself on the doorframe and peek out into the hall. The second Viralix has pushed away from the door and is floating in the hall, keeping watch on both sides of it. Both of them look like they’re kitted out in partial power armor that’s been customized for their short statures and digitigrade legs. Even their tails are encased in segmented plates. “Let us help and it’ll probably go faster. We know the ship better than you do.”

“You are representatives of the Maskling Republic?” the first Viralix asks. Within the helm, I can see that he’s got dark grey fur like Venox, and his irises have the usual blue glow.

“Yeah. We’re currently on an assignment, for which we’re partnering with this group of mercenaries.” Tarocco says, arriving on the other side of the door’s gap. “You all are here to help us?”

“We are here to prevent an unlawful interdiction.” the second Viralix answers without looking over his shoulder. His voice, both the audible and psionic component, are deeper than the first Viralix’s, and decidedly unfriendly. “But the fact remains that your vessels are traversing Viralix space without authorization. Your ships and crew will remain detained while we ascertain your business in our territory and determine what should be done with you.”

“Ah. So this isn’t actually out of the goodness of your heart. Got it.” I say, watching as the corpses of the two pirates drift in the hall. The one that had been attacked by the first Viralix is covered in scorched clawmarks. “Well, at this rate, we might’ve been better off dealing with the pirates on our own.”

“Kiwi! Manners!” Tarocco says through gritted teeth. “Things might’ve gone a lot worse if they hadn’t dropped in!”

“Oh, yes, because it’s so much better to avoid getting killed by pirates, only to get disappeared by the Viralix.” I say, rolling my eyes. “You know the saying about going from the frying pan to the fire?”

“Well, you’re probably not making the situation any better by being ungrateful right in front of them!”

“Be forthright, and the Psiarch may consider you favorably.” the second Viralix says, raising a hand and releasing a brief pulse of energy that pushes him back down to the floor. The first Viralix is likewise twisting himself in place to orient into a standing position. “Your ship has been secured. Our orders are to bring you and any other members of your command structure to this vessel’s bridge to initiate communications with our fleet.”

“Wait, secured? Does that mean all the pirates are dead?” I demand. “Dammit! I wanted to at least stab someone for getting woken up this early!”

“I’m sure you’ll survive without stabbing someone for a few days more.” Tarocco says drily, then looks at the pair of Viralix. “Are we getting dressed first, or do your superiors want us to go to the bridge now?”

“We are to escort you to the bridge as soon as the gravity is restored.” the first Viralix replies.

“Alright, when’s that gonna—” I start to ask, only to hear a hum race through the ship, quickly followed by being yanked down to the floor as the gravity kicks back on. I grunt as I land on my side, and so does Tarocco; out in the hall, we can hear the pirates’ bodies thudding to the floor as well. “…jeezus, you couldn’t have given us more warning?”

“We thought it would be obvious with how we were preparing to stand once more.” the first Viralix says.

“Yeah, that’s only really obvious in retrospect.” Tarocco grimaces, starting to sit up. “Suppose that means we’re headed to the bridge now.”

“Well, it’s not like we’ve got much of a choice.” I say, the shield and featherblades around my wrists dissipating. Getting to my feet, I straighten out my pajamas and squeeze through the gap in the door, glaring down at the two Viralix. Even in their power armor, neither of them is taller than 5’6. “Let’s get this over with. I’ve got a few choice words for your Psiarch if he thinks he can keep us detained while we’re on a mission.”

“Don’t mind her, she’s trying to speak with authority she doesn’t have.” Tarocco says, following me out into the hall. “Do you two know the way to the bridge?”

“We are receiving instruction now. One will lead, one will follow. You two will walk between.” the second Viralix says as the first starts moving down the hall, looking over his shoulder as if expecting us to follow. “Should you attempt unauthorized action, we will subdue you as necessary.”

“Charming. Being threatened on our own ship after offering to help them.” I mutter as I start to follow the first Viralix.

“They’re just doing their jobs, Kiwi.” Tarocco says behind me.

“Yeah, well they could be a bit nicer about it.” I grumble. “And I wouldn’t get too cozy with them, if I were you. If their commanding officer decides to be a hardass, then we might end up having to fight out way out of this.”

“Or, you could take a page from Songbird’s book and try to deescalate the situation by communicating and negotiating.” she insists. “I’m still not exactly fond of him, but I can at least see that he’s got some qualities that you lack.”

“Some things aren’t negotiable, pixie sticks.” I shoot back as we reach the elevators. “The mission we’re on is one of them.”

“Your squabbling vexes us.” the second Viralix says as we step into the elevator. “We would ask that you refrain from arguing with each other until we reach the bridge.”

“I rest my case.” Tarocco says as the doors close.

“Oh, stuff it, pixie sticks.”

Intercepted Communications

Local Intership Psiwave Frequency (roughly deciphered)

Viralix Fourth Filament Patrol Fleet

VMS August Denial: Patrol Command, we have disabled sublight propulsion for the second pirate frigate. We will proceed to disabling primary power generation unless you indicate otherwise.

VMS Solemn Reminder: Acknowledged, Denial. Disable life support if the opportunity presents; if it does not, you may proceed with disabling primary power. March, what is the status of the disabled mercenary vessels?

VMS Sonorous March: Their primary systems are coming back online, and a count of the breach pods attached to their hull indicates roughly two dozen corsairs deployed to the battlecruiser, and a smaller group to the accompanying frigate. The boarding teams we have deployed have eliminated most of the corsairs and are currently working on securing both ships.

VMS Argent Fury: Patrol Command, the pirate battlecruiser is disengaging, along with the destroyer and the first frigate. We can pursue, but in a limited capacity, given the present state of our shields.

VMS Solemn Reminder: Acknowledged, Fury. Prioritize the weakest ship. If there is substantial pushback, then fall back and prioritize the disabling of the second frigate with the August Denial. March, have your boarding teams gather the mercenary commanders once the ships have been secured. They must answer for their presence here.

VMS Argent Fury: Acknowledged, Patrol Command.

VMS Sonorous March: Acknowledged, Patrol Command.

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

M.V. Accatria: Bridge

5:17am SGT

When the doors to the bridge open again, with Kiwi and Tarocco and a pair of Viralix stepping in this time, my first instinct is to stand up. However, the moment I do, she notices and rolls her eyes. “Siddown, Blueberry, I’m fine.” she says, making her way through the consoles towards me.

“I’ll stand, thank you very much.” I say, folding my arms.

She folds her arms in return as she comes to a stop in front of me. “Well if you’re standing, that means I can’t be sitting in your lap.” It’s said with a straight face and an unflinching gaze.

I open my mouth, close it, then look around at the bridge, which also contains Jackrabbit, Valkyrie, Tony, Luci, Renchiko in the console chair adjacent to me, and like six other Viralix… all of whom are now paying attention to our little showdown.

“Seriously, Kiwi?” Tarocco calls.

Kiwi lifts a hand, giving Tarocco the middle finger while planting her other hand on my chest and pushing me back down into my chair. She sits down in my lap after that, hooking her legs over the arm of the chair. Renchiko, who’s sitting a few feet away, raises an eyebrow at me.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I mutter defensively.

“She’s just jealous.” Kiwi says, getting comfortable.

“What? No, I’m not jealous.” Renchiko scoffs as the rest of the bridge goes back to talking to each other in low tones. “I just think it’s weird that you’re cuddling in the middle of a crisis.”

Now it’s Kiwi’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “You’d call this cuddling?”

Renchiko starts to color faintly. “I mean… yeah, what else would you call it?”

Kiwi grins. “You’re cute, kid.”

I shift a little in the chair; even though Kiwi and I had been spending more time around each other recently, we hadn’t really been physically close with each other, not like this. So it was a novel experience for me, feeling the warmth she radiated, the lean, efficient shape of her body through her pajamas. “So, um… you didn’t have any trouble with the pirates, then?” I ask, aiming to tilt the conversation in a direction that won’t fluster Renchiko so much.

“Nah.” she says, gathering her viridian hair together and bundling back into its usual messy ponytail. “The Viralix dealt with them before we could really get rolling. More’s the pity; I was looking forward to stabbing someone for getting woken up this early. What about you?”

“Same as you. Viralix had mostly dealt with them by the time I got back to my room.” I say, nodding to Renchiko. “Little Sister managed get her stunner, escape her room, and knock a couple of them out before the Viralix showed up.”

“Really? Nice work, kiddo.” Kiwi drawls, nodding approvingly. “Maybe we’ll be able to make a soldier out of you after all. What about Ridge?”

“Still asleep.” I say, rubbing a brow. “As far as I can tell, he slept through the whole thing.”

“Well, it’s not like he missed much.” she says, looking around the bridge. “I’ll admit, this is a little weird. It’s surprising the Viralix showed up so quickly after we got boarded. I’m kinda suspicious.”

“Yeah, the timing does seem suspect.” I agree. “They’ve been mostly decent to us so far, though.”

“Why are they so short?” Renchiko asks, staring at the Viralix around the bridge as well. “Some of them look like they’re shorter than me, and I’m like. 5’6.”

“That’s just the way the Viralix are. They’re a bunch of little psi foxes.” Kiwi says, leaning her head against my shoulder. “Cute as a button until one of their starcities shows up over a planet and starts glassing it.”

“We only sterilize planets compromised by the Collective.” one of the Viralix says sharply, turning their helm towards us. “We can also hear you talking about us. You are not as quiet as you think you are.”

“Ears as big as those, I’d hope you could hear us.” Kiwi says without missing a beat.

“Sorry.” I say quickly, reaching up to cup a hand over Kiwi’s mouth before she can make any more questionable remarks. “Many people on this ship have never met Viralix before, while others clearly… have.”

“Can you do the talking without the whole. Projecting your voices into our heads, and all that?” Renchiko asks. “It’s weird and it gives me the shivers.”

“Renchiko, they’re psions.” I say quickly. “They can’t help it. That’s how they communicate with each other; in fact, in their native communities, they don’t speak at all, because they don’t need to speak to communicate with each other. They’re being very courteous by speaking aloud for u—” I draw up short when I feel something wet and squishy against my palm, and glance back around to realize that Kiwi’s shoved her tongue against the hand I’ve got covering her mouth. “Really?” I say, giving her a flat look.

She doesn’t say anything, but by the way her eyes crinkle at the corners, I can tell she’s grinning behind my hand.

“Commander on the bridge!” Tony shouts as door to the bridge opens once more, and Dussel and Sierra step in this time, escorted by another two Viralix. Dussel appears to have made some attempt to get into uniform, though his shirt is untucked and he looks as tired and haggard as one might expect for being rudely awoken at five in the morning. Sierra didn’t even bother to get out of her pajamas, roaming half-conscious onto the bridge and mumbling something about coffee and Luci.

“Alright. Let’s get this shitshow on the road.” he grunts, rubbing an eye as he makes his way towards the captain’s chair. “Which one of you is in charge here?”

“I am Pack Captain Fessel.” one of the Viralix says, stepping forward.

“Alright, that’s great, but you look just like the rest of your buddies.” Dussel says, motioning to the other Viralix. “Take off your helm. You’re all wearing the same armor type and y’all got tails and big ears. I can’t tell you apart like that.”

The pack captain hesitates, but his helm divides, the top section folding back to reveal a vulpine face beneath, replete with luminous blue irises and dark grey fur. “You are the commander of this two-vessel fleet?” he asks, the whispers echoing in our heads a half second before his voice reaches us.

“That’s me. Commander Jack Dussel of the Dussel Mercforce.” Dussel says, sitting down in the captain’s chair — which, with his height, puts him just below eye-level with Fessel. “Thank you for intervening and dealing with the pirates. I’m sure we could’ve handled it, but I’m sure it would’ve been much messier without your help.”

“Policing the Vorcrueshen for unlawful activity is our duty. However, you presence here also qualifies as unlawful, as your vessels are not listed on the Empire’s clearance manifests for this timeframe or travel route.” Fessel states, folding his hands behind his back. “As a result, the commander of our patrol fleet would like speak to you and give you an opportunity to explain your unauthorized presence here.”

“That’s a polite way of telling me I’m about to get raked over the coals.” Dussel says, motioning to Tony. “Adjutant, tell someone to get their ass to the kitchen and get a bottle of whiskey to the bridge. Fessel, if your Commander wants to talk, I’ll talk. Does he want to make this an in-person visit, or will it be over comms?”

“Over comms will suffice. A channel request should be coming over shortly.” Fessel says, taking a few steps to the side to stand out of the way of the main screen.

“Charming.” Dussel grunts, turning his attention to the back of Tony’s head. “Adjutant, if you would—”

“Wait, quick question, where’s Legaci?” I ask, suddenly realizing I haven’t seen her at all.

“The pulse initially knocked her out, along with the rest of the ship’s primary systems.” Valkyrie answers. “She’s rebooting in safe mode right now.”

“Ah. Okay.” I say, relaxing a bit. “Nevermind me. Carry on.”

“Worried about her?” Kiwi asks now that I’ve no longer got my hand over her mouth.

“Yeah, I just noticed she wasn’t around, spittin’ sass like she usually does.” I reply. “If she hadn’t gotten knocked offline, I imagine the pirates would’ve gotten a much different reception.”

“I admit, she has been pretty useful.” she murmurs.

“Angelnets usually are.” I say, before the main screen on the bridge opens up to a view of another bridge, presumably of the Viralix command vessel. Their bridge looks a lot more spacious than ours — a big round room in silver and white hues, with minimalistic curves and lines. Unlike our consoles, which are basically rectangular bricks with swivel chairs bolted in front of them, each of their consoles look like lotus flowers, which when unfurled, project a rich blue holorarray into the air above them. Their bridge officers sit within the center of those flowers, reclined on floating chairs that allow them to turn and swivel within a sphere of screens and projections that make up the lotus’s holoarray.

“Oh. Oh wow.” Renchiko says, sitting up in her chair and leaning forward, her wide green eyes reflecting the blue light of the Viralix bridge. “Holy shit, that’s cool. I’ve never seen a bridge layout like this before. This is lightyears ahead of the bridge design you’d see for military ships in most other nations.”

Kiwi grins at Renchiko. “Viralix have no chill. They go hard on everything. You should see what their cities look like.”

“Their ships are here, right?” she says, glancing at the console in front of her. “Can we bring those up on one of the screens? I wanna get a look at their design.”

“Commander, this vessel does not have a psiwave transmitter.” Fessel says abruptly, speaking towards the main screen. “We are limited to audiovisual on this channel. You will have to speak verbally if they are to hear you.”

On the screen, the silver-furred Viralix hovering in the center of the bridge, wrapped in a grey cloak and with his legs folded together, twitches his whiskers. “Unfortunate.” he rasps, clearly unaccustomed to using his voice. No echo precedes his voice, presumably because the Accatria’s comms equipment can’t pick up the psiwave that the Viralix usually communicate through. “Then speak, I shall. I am Patrol Commander Rishua of the Viralix Fourth Filament Patrol Fleet.”

“And I’m Commander Dussel of the Dussel Mercforce.” Dussel replies. “A good morning to you too, Commander Rishua.”

“We had ascertained as much, given the profile and name of your ship.” Rishua answers. “Your profile is heavily elevated within open space, and your mercforce is considered a criminal organization by the Colloquium.”

“Yes, we got on the wrong side of some powerful people and organizations.” Dussel grunts. “We are not as criminal as they make us out to be. Our only major infraction is harboring Challengers, which is apparently a crime now.”

“And kidnapping juveniles, as I understand.” Rishua adds, his luminous irises drifting towards Renchiko.

“She came of her own accord.” I speak up at this point. “She’s actually quite interested in your ship. She’s never seen a bridge design like that before.”

That draws Rishua’s attention to me. “You are the Challenger that killed Nova.”

A tense silence fills the bridge as I struggle for a quick answer to that. “…it’s a long story. I did it because I had to, not because I wanted to.”

“Songbird has actually been quite instrumental in defending Masklings against xenophobes and racists.” Tarocco speaks up at this point. “He is an individual of good integrity, and the Maskling Republic is proud to partner with him, and the Dussel Mercforce, on the mission we are on.”

“Is that so.” Rishua says, his gaze turning across the remainder of our bridge. “This is a Maskling enterprise, then.”

“We’re currently on a mission to recover a Maskling arkship within the Vorcrueshen.” Tarocco says. “We hid it here many centuries ago, during a time when we feared for the survival of our species. I am sure you understand the sentiment, given the history of the Viralix, and your starcities.”

“We understand the importance of such arks, yes.” Rishua says, lacing his furred fingers together. “Though it begs the question of why you hid it within our borders, and without our consent.”

“Dude, it was literally two thousand years ago.” Kiwi speaks up at this point. “How are we supposed to know why they hid it here? We weren’t even born at that point, and most of the people that were alive back then are dead now. Hell, the borders of your territory were probably different back then. Maybe you didn’t own the patch of space where they hid it, at least back then.”

“Kiwi.” Tarocco growls through gritted teeth.

“I’m just sayin’!” she protests, throwing a hand out.

“Yes, but you could say it a little more politely.” Dussel rumbles, before looking back to the screen. “In short, Commander Rishua, that is why we are here. Simple retrieval of a cultural artifact for a sovereign nation. Nothing more than that.”

“If it was so benign, why did you not submit a travel request to the Vorcrueshen Travel Authority?” Rishua asks. “We have offices at the Colloquium and at all our systems in open space. Our records indicate your mercforce has traveled in the Vorcrueshen before, Commander Dussel, each time with permission. You cannot claim ignorance of our laws, and I expect you would know better than to enter our territory without permission.”

“With respect, Commander, the permitting process is not exactly fast or efficient, and we have been severely pressed for time and resources recently.” Dussel replies. “We have been constantly hounded by CURSE, and if I am being honest, I am just trying to get this contract done as quickly as I can so I don’t lose more assets. I’m sure you’re aware of the ambush in the Hagburt System; it was a considerable detriment to my company. We lost our entire mobile fortress, and some of my men with it. It’s been a bit of a rough ride, and I would just like to finish it as quickly as possible. That’s why I skipped the permitting process; we just wanted to get in, get out, and be done with it.”

“That does not excuse this trespass.” Rishua says sternly.

“You’re right. It doesn’t.” Dussel admits. “I’m just asking that we be allowed to finish the job. We’ll leave right after that, and pay whatever fine you want to levy against us.”

“These are not civilian vessels, Commander Dussel. This is trespass with military equipment. This goes beyond mere fines.”

“Commander Rishua, if I may have a moment to speak?” Valkyrie says, stepping forward. “I am Valkyrie, of the old Challenger program. I have treated your people before, several years ago, during one of your conflicts with other residents of the Vorcrueshen.”

“We are familiar with you and your partner, yes.” Rishua says.

“We are on what is essentially a humanitarian mission.” Valkyrie says. “The Maskling Republic would greatly appreciate it if they were able to recover their arkship. Not only does it contain the history and the culture of their people, but it also contains some of their people, in stasis. If you have any doubts about our intentions, we can give you the location that we intend to go to—”

“What?!” Tarocco exclaims. “We did not agree to that!”

Valkyrie glares at Tarocco. “Do you want to recover your arkship or not?”

“What if they send one of their ships to go destroy it? Or pillage it?” Kiwi demands, sitting up in my lap.

“That would be a diplomatically inadvisable move, especially if that location is divulged as a matter of demonstrating goodwill and trust. And especially since the Viralix know what it’s like to have their sacred places raided.” Valkyrie replies calmly, looking back to the screen. “Is that not correct, Rishua?”

Rishua’s whiskers twitch. “We agree that it would exhibit poor taste and a lack of integrity, yes.”

“I’m glad we are on the same page.” Valkyrie continues. “So my proposal is that we give you the coordinates of the system we are traveling to, so that you will know where we will be, and our route there. Additionally, you can have a ship escort us there if your trust does not extend that far.”

“You say that as if assigning one of our combat ships to supervisory detail would not impact our security operations.” Rishua replies tersely.

“It was merely a suggestion, or an offer.” Valkyrie says apologetically. “I am not familiar with Viralix security operations; I am simply trying to make clear that we are only here trying to help a group in need, as the Challengers used to do.”

“As the Challengers used to do.” Rishua repeats, resting his pawhands on his knees. “You sift the ashes of a broken order, doctor.”

“We sift the ashes because there are some principles still worth living by.” Valkryie replies. “If we abandon our principles, then CURSE has won. Jackrabbit and I have not evaded capture for this long just to let CURSE win by abandoning what we believe in.”

“Mm.” is Rishua’s only response as studies our bridge, and the rest of us on it. There is a tense silence as we wait for his verdict, his ears flicking now and again as if he was listening to other voices within the Viralix psi network. “We will permit your mission based off of your respect for our law to this point, Commander Dussel, and on the altruism of your past service to our people, Valkyrie. However, we cannot simply allow military vessels to roam our territory unsupervised, even if they are as dated as yours. You will dispense your travel plans to us, along with a full blueprint of your vessels. Additionally, two of our staff will be stationed aboard your main vessel to monitor your activity and alert us if you deviate from your stated mission. These are the conditions you must agree to if you wish to proceed.”

Dussel rolls his bottom lip, glancing aside to Sierra, who shrugs. “I don’t see what the big deal is. We’re being honest with them, so it’s not like they’ll have anything to report.” she says. “Only issue is that we’ll have two more mouths to feed.”

“We haven’t come all this way just to turn around, Commander.” Valkyrie adds. “As you said, you want to finish this as quickly as possible. This is our opportunity to do so.”

“Fine.” Dussel sighs. “We will accept those conditions, Psiarch. Please give us time to get the data together and get it over to you; as you can see, most of us were asleep when we were ambushed, and we’re still getting our wits about us.”

“You will have time to send that information to us, Commander.” Rishua says. “We will not be leaving anytime soon. One of the pirate frigates was disabled, and we will be remaining until its crew and cargo have been dealt with. In six hours, we will send over the staff that will be monitoring the remainder of your journey. Mind that any attempts to flee before then are likely to end poorly.”

“Noted.” Dussel says tersely. “We will have our route data and blueprints over to you shortly, and we will await your staff.”

Rishua nods, and the screen goes dark. Leaning back in his chair, Dussel nods to Tony, then looks to the rest of the bridge. “Right, we’ve got shit to do. Valkyrie, Jackrabbit, any pirate bodies on the ship, I want them gathered up. The boys can help you with that. If they have anything of worth, strip them of it, then vent the bodies out the airlock.”

“Actually Commander, we cannot allow that.” Fessel says, the psi echoes returning. “It is illegal to dump bodies in Viralix space. Presents a collision hazard if they drift into a sublight traffic lane. Bodies must be disposed of in gas giants or stars.”

Dussel stares at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“Quite serious, sir.”

“We are the literally in the middle of nowhere, lightyears from any inhabited system, with absolutely no reason for anyone to be traveling sublight in this area unless they happen to be pirates planning an interdiction.”

“It’s the law, sir.”

Dussel raises a hand, massaging his forehead as he squeezes his eyes shut. “…fine. Valkyrie, the bodies go in cold storage until we can jettison them into the nearest star we can find. Is there any other red tape we should be aware of, Captain Fessel?”

“None at present, sir. We do have orders to inspect your vessel to ensure it is carrying no contraband, so we will do that now. If you would let your crew know that we are about that task and tell them to cooperate with the inspection, it would be greatly appreciated.” Fessel says as the other Viralis start to move back towards the door of the bridge, while one stays behind.

“Fine, whatever. Tony, make sure the crew on both ships know about the inspection and don’t interfere with it.” Dussel mutters, waving a hand. “Lieutenant, have our engineers identify the halls where the breach pods punctured the hull, and assess the hall’s structural integrity. I’d like to get those removed and the holes patched, if possible, but if that’s not feasible, I want to at least make sure the pods aren’t going to come loose and depressurize the hall while we’re traveling.” He glares at me and Kiwi next. “And you two need to find somewhere else to play cuddle buddies. I don’t care how important you think you are; getting lovey-dovey in front of our guests is embarrassing and both of you should know better.”

Kiwi sticks her tongue out at Dussel, but stands out of my lap, reaching down to grab my arm and pull me upright. “You’re just jealous, old man.”

“Kiwi.” Tarocco says in a warning tone.

“Fine. I’m talking my ball and leaving.” she huffs, pulling me along as she starts for the door. “Let us know if the ship starts falling apart or some other mid-level disaster.”

“You’re just gonna let her drag you off like that?” Dussel asks, raising an eyebrow as I’m pulled past his chair.

“Uh…” I say, blanking on an answer. “…I guess?”

Dussel sighs and shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. “They don’t make men like they used to.”

“Not everyone wants a toxic alpha male, Dussel!” Kiwi calls over her shoulder, then gives me a frank look as the bridge doors split open for us. “He’s right though, you should grow more of a spine.”

“Oh thanks, I feel so supported.” I say drily.

“I second that motion; you’re too much of a pushover, Songbird.”

“Shut up, Sierra, nobody asked you.”

“That’s more like it!”

Encyclopedia Galactica

Silent Societies (Viralix, Collective)

The term ‘silent society’ is used to describe civilizations that largely exist without the need for verbal communication in their foundational communities, with their primary method of communication being through a different sense or means. While this term could technically apply to a range of communities, it is largely associated with psychic or psionic races, such as the Collective, or the Viralix.

A silent society is defined primarily by an absence of spoken word or language. That is not to say that the community in question lacks a spoken tongue, but that spoken word is not the first choice of communication for a vast majority of the population. This is the case where it regards the Collective, whose members are all bound to the Collective hivemind, and the Viralix, who do not have a hivemind, but communicate by broadcasting their thoughts on a natural psiwave. Species such as these have no need for spoken word, though they often retain a spoken tongue in order to communicate with other species that lack psychic or psionic capabilities.

Dramatized depictions of silent societies often focus heavily on the lack of noise, portraying entire cities or buildings with a haunted, almost unsettling silence despite the apparent population density, with residents giving each other intense, wide-eyed stares. In reality, silent societies are quieter but not wholly silent; cities are still filled with the hum of machinery, the patter of feet, and the rustle of fabric. Businesses and establishments still have the click of fingers on keyboards and screens, or the clink of silverware and the clatter of dishes against countertops. There is an obvious element of verbal communication that is missing from the soundscape, but members of a silent society do not spend time intensely staring at each other in order to communicate. In these societies, it is considered polite to look at a person when you are directing thoughts towards them through the hivemind or over a psiwave, but by no means it is required — conversations can be held while doing other activities, such as playing a game or washing the dishes, which requires one’s attention on the tasks at hand. Physical cues are also still a part of communication in a silent society; the flick of an ear, the twitch of a tail, the raising of an eyebrow can all be used to add context or emotion to sentiments communicated between minds.

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

M.V. Accatria: Observation Lounge

5:48am SGT

“The thing that sucks about this ship is that you can’t really go anywhere to get any privacy.” Kiwi says, setting her shoulder to the half-open door of the observation lounge, grunting as she pushes at it. “I’d take you back to my room, but Tarocco might walk in on us. And I know you room with Ridge, so we can’t go back to your room. How do you put up with that, by the way? It’d drive me crazy, having to room with a teenager.”

“I just keep telling myself that I was a teenager once.” I say, watching as she struggles to shove the door open. “If nothing else, it’s an exercise in empathy and patience.”

“I couldn’t do it.” she grunts. “I remember what I was like as a teenager. I’m surprised Forecast didn’t develop a drinking problem by the time I turned twenty.”

“You know, if you step inside, there should be a turnwheel on the right side of the door that you can twist to get it the rest of the way open.” I mention.

She stares at the door, then looks back at me. “You couldn’t have told me that before I tried to make a fool of myself?”

I smile. “Figured you might want to get your strength training in.”

“Snarky bastard.” she smirks, slipping in through the gap. “Figured I’d open the door as a courtesy to others, but I think I’ll just leave it. Only skinny people will be able to fit through that gap and I don’t want Dussel coming in here and hassling us again.”

“Was there a reason you got so cozy while we were on the bridge?” I ask, following her in. “You’ve never done that before.”

“Did you not like it?” she says over her shoulder. “I can dial it back if it was too much.”

“No, I… I liked it.” I say quickly, even though it feels uncomfortable admitting that. “I’m just… not used to something like that.”

“Nobody’s ever touched you before, have they.” she says, jumping over the back of the couch and bouncing on one of the cushions, before patting the one next to her. “Not like I do.”

“Mmm. Not really, I suppose.” I say, walking around the couch and sitting down beside her. “I’m not very physical with other people. Just generally speaking. I tend to keep my distance and my hands to myself.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” she says, immediately turning and sprawling across the couch, and across my lap in the process, staring up at me. “So this bothers you?”

I’m left speechless for a moment. “Uh— well… no? Not when it’s you…” I peter off as I realize what I’ve admitted. “…shit.”

She smirks. “No takebacks.” Reaching up, she traces her thumb along my lips, before pushing back my upper lip to expose my teeth, and one of my pronounced canids in particular. “Is this why you keep your distance from people?”

I shake my head. “No. I’ve been like that all my life. I just… I’m wired a little weird, I guess. Brain’s running a different version of the standard package, as my dad would put it.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Is that how he would put it?” she asks, letting her thumb drop away from my mouth.

“He’s a software programmer. Or used to be, at least.” I say, shrugging and looking away. “Last I heard, he was a project lead. Moved from writing the software to overseeing the programmers that do.”

“Sounds like you haven’t talked with him in a while.”

“Yeah. Well.” I say, taking a deep breath. “My family is Anayan, and I’m a vampire, so… you can see why I haven’t exactly kept current with them.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” she agrees. “Sorry to hear about that. I knew you were Anayan, but I didn’t know your family was too. Although it kinda makes sense, now that I think about it. Born into the religion, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah.”

“So how did you become a vampire? I’ve heard that Anayans consider them abominations. Unless you didn’t have a choice when you became one…”

“No, I chose this.” I say quietly, reaching over to brush a lock of hair out of her face. “I was trying to become something that was good enough for someone else. They meant enough to me that I would abandon the dogma that had raised me, for better or for worse. The feeling was not reciprocal, however.”

“You loved someone enough to throw away your religion and become a vampire for them?” she asks, as if dumbfounded by that.

“I wouldn’t say I threw away my religion.” I say, shepherding more locks from her wildfire eyes. “I kept, and still practice, the good parts of it. But yes, I threw away my humanity out of a stupid desperation for someone else’s respect and acknowledgement. We do idiotic things when we’re in love.” I’m quiet for a moment, my fingers resting on her cheek, studying the faint, almost invisible sprinkle of freckles beneath her eyes. “Sometimes we make sacrifices no one asked us to make.”

She doesn’t say anything to that. Her eyes stay on me, though, roving my face, searching for something — I’m not sure what she’s looking for. It becomes clear a moment later when she opens her mouth, though. “It was Nova, wasn’t it? Are you still in love with her?”

I exhale. “Yes, I suppose. That’s the funny thing about love; if you really loved someone, then you never really stop loving them, or at least loving what they used to be. But in time, you come to accept that they’ve changed — or that what they are isn’t something you can live with anymore.”

“There was a version of her that you used to love.” she infers. “But it disappeared.”

“Well, not really.” I say, shifting a little to lean back against the couch. “Who you were never really disappears. It gets buried under who you become — new experiences, new identities, new beliefs built on top of it, paved over it. But the old you is still there, still a part of you, forming the foundation of who you are now. And if you dig deep enough, then you’ll find the old you down there somewhere.”

Her lips draw tight, then form into a kind of sad half smile. “You want to believe you can save everyone, don’t you. That there’s always something worth saving, if you just dig down deep enough.”

“I know that you can’t always save everyone.” I answer. I recognize this conversation, know where it’ll go if I let it. “But we should at least try. We owe it to a better universe to at least do that much.”

“You’re too much of a good boy.” she says, reaching up to stroke my face. “But that means you must’ve tried to get back the old Nova, and you couldn’t. Because you ended up killing her.”

I don’t reply to that, looking away again.

“Feroce.” she says, her hand tugging lightly at my face. “Look at me.”

After a moment, I look back at her.

“You can’t save everyone.” she says quietly. “Especially if they don’t want to be saved. And if you keep trying to save them, then you’ll end up making those sacrifices that nobody asked you to make.”

I inhale a long breath, then nod. I don’t like to admit it, but…

She’s right.

“Let’s talk about something else.” she says, probably sensing how heavily this topic weighs on me. “What about me? Do you love me?”

I can’t help but chuckle at that. “Love takes a little more time than that, sorry.” I answer, fiddling with the ends of her hair. “I like you, though. There’s something about you that I can’t explain; I just… like being near you.”

“Maybe we were meant for each other.” she says, her hand moving from my face to my hand, her fingers touching the runemarks around my wrist. “I’ve never met someone like you, someone that can keep up with me. Do you believe in destiny?”

“I don’t, actually.” I say, watching her fingers roam over those black marks. “Thing like destiny and prophecies, they’re acts of violence against free will. It’s the difference between writing your own story, and letting someone else write your story for you.”

“Does it matter who writes your story, so long as you get a happy ending?” she asks.

I raise an eyebrow at her. “This coming from the person that has problems with authority and hates being told what to do.”

She giggles. “Alright, that was a stupid question. I was just playing devil’s advocate.”

“If anyone would advocate for the devil, it’d be you.” I say, shaking my head. “Serious question though, we’re just going to hang out and relax while everyone else is fixing the ship and cleaning up bodies?”

A shrug is her answer. “Dussel didn’t give us any orders.”

“Yeah, but we were kinda just attacked by pirates.” I point out with some incredulity.

Another shrug. “Just another day in the life of a mercenary fleet, am I right? Besides, it’s only like. What, six in the morning? That’s three hours of sleep I’ve been deprived of.”

“So you’re just going to roll over and go back to sleep in my lap?” I ask as she does exactly that.

“All this talking has worn me out, and you’re super comfortable in your pajamas.” she says, curling up a little and folding an arm under her head. “Besides, we’ve got a nice view of the Viralix ships from here.”

I look up, and out the window of the observation lounge. She’s right; the Viralix ships are visible against the dark of space, an elegant marriage of form and function in formation around us. Silver and graceful, soft blue glows emanating from their engines and other power sources; you can see hints of what Challenger ships and architecture drew their inspiration from. As it often goes with Viralix ships, many of them have a streamlined form resemblant of aquatic and airborne creatures, with some elements that move independently of the main hull. Even if their design is primarily military, they’re still beautiful ships. Beautiful tools of destruction.

Not so different from Nova, and not so different from the girl curled up in my lap right now.

“I suppose we do.” I agree softly, slowly combing my fingers through her hair as we go back to watching the Viralix ships in the soothing, early-morning stillness.