As Novus’ parent star, Mira, sinks beneath the horizon, stars shine through a dimming veil of indigo, and Loy welcomes them one by one. He sits upon a small hilltop, his back resting against a large stone protruding from the rocky soil. His black hair dances in the breeze as twilight peaks, while his eyes remain on the flickering lights above. He deeply breathes in the cool air, and smiles with a comforting thought. Peace and beauty.
Pebbles grind against stone as someone approaches. His concentration holds fast as footsteps cease only meters away. A long pause ensues before a soft and gentle voice summons his attention, and reopens the floodgates of worry. “Enjoying your last evening on Novus?”
Loy remains in his sitting position while turning to his visitor, his eyes confirming what his ears recognized. Behind him stands a man whose height compares to his own, no more than two meters. Though his body is lean, and his arms and legs thin, his athletic ability surpasses most. Loy is unable to see his green eyes as the light of day wanes, but other remaining visible features are enough to identify him as his friend, Vis. Underneath a narrow nose his thin lips pose a familiar grin, all upon a pale narrow face. With a hint of frustration in his deep voice, Loy returns his attention to the evening sky, “I was,” as intrusive thoughts dwell on tomorrow’s departure; bound for places alit by foreign stars. A new experience for Loy, and a familiar routine for Vis; a secret he keeps well.
Vis draws near and stands beside him. He looks down to Loy and finds him still unshaven. His short and well groomed beard joins with his black hair, matching it in length. His facial hair surrounds his full lips, but keeps to its own borders. Prominent black eyebrows sit above his hazel eyes, and between them rests his flat nose. Vis raises his eyes to the heavens, now shrouded in a deep magenta, which fades into the red embers of Mira’s wake upon the horizon, and admires the stars shining through the dimming atmosphere. He attempts to appease his friend, but understands well the dynamic of their friendship. “Can you imagine what remains undiscovered?”
Loy keeps his eyes on the stars. “Honestly? No, but I try anyway.”
A strong breeze sweeps over them, and Vis takes in a deep breath of the cold air as it passes, and then exhales slowly; once again diverting Loy’s focus. “I’m going to miss the fresh air. Tomorrow we’ll breathe our last of it.”
Looking up to Vis, Loy questions him, “Last?”
“I only meant our last for a time,” he then heightens his tone, ”although.”
“Funny.”
“What? Afraid of tempting fate?”
“No, just afraid.” Loy turns his head so Vis leaves his peripheral.
Vis sits beside him and rests his back upon the same stone, speaking plainly. “We’re all afraid. Some of us just face our fears differently.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
Vis looks at his friend who refuses to meet his gaze, “Do you really want me to leave?”
Loy rises to his feet with a sigh, “No.” He distances himself from Vis before facing him. “I did come here to be alone; but I won’t make you leave.”
“Make me?” Vis grins. “I’m curious to see how you would make me do anything.”
“Why?”
Vis joins Loy in standing. “I’ve never seen you force anyone to do anything. Could be interesting.” Loy turns from him and resumes his stargazing as Vis continues. “Do you think you will ever change?”
Loy turns from Vis and observes the ever darkening horizon. “No more than you ever will, Vis, no more.”
“Oh careful, I change all the time.” Vis’ mind races through all his past experiences, masking himself as another; again and again.
Loy looks over his shoulder. “Explain something to me. How is it, that after disappearing for over a year, again, you suddenly return assigned to the same ship as I?”
Vis looks down for a moment, briefly ponders the question, and then raises his head while walking to Loy’s side; confident his fabricated answer will satisfy. “Well, you know the reason for my absence. I had my studies to complete, and I was given the privilege to choose my assignment; since I was the class’ top student.”
He keeps a humble expression when Loy gives him a glance, who then shakes his head while releasing a puff of air through his nose. “You’re incredible.”
“Indeed I am. You’re fortunate you know. Not many would choose a ship only because a friend is already assigned to it.”
Loy surrenders and allows himself a small laugh. “Oh I am am I? Somehow I don’t feel as such.”
Vis smiles, and a silence between them inspires Loy to ask a pressing question. “Do you know where we’re going?”
Into the heart of hostile space, Vis thinks to himself. A yearning to present this truth tempts him, but he remains anchored to his purpose. “No, but if I were to guess I’d say it’s somewhere quiet. There’s no point in risking the loss of another ship.”
“How comforting.”
Vis shrugs, “You asked.”
Another pause in their conversation lingers, this time encouraging Loy to end their talk and find rest. “I should be going. Can’t say I couldn’t sleep if I don’t try. I'll see you tomorrow.”
He turns and takes a few steps before Vis quotes a familiar poem. “Fear not the dark expanse.”
Loy faces his friend with a smile and recites the poem’s ending line. “It awaits and listens.” He exchanges a nod and then descends the hilltop. Vis watches him closely until the darkness of night takes him. I serve to protect my home, and yet I must surrender a piece of it. He climbs down from the rocks and begins his journey home, imagining a life in the light.
While Novus rests, there is naught but a breeze sifting through their vast crops, caressing the loose sands of their deserts. Before the presence of humans, the acoustics of Novus were limited. Small pebbles, carried by the wind, rolled across rock. Grains of sand showered the surface during windstorms, pouring rain fell upon barren soil, and lightning cast its thunderous echoes across mountainous valleys. Now humans have settled, and with them brought the sounds of life; the roaring of their ships, speech, laughter, and cries of mourning. Life came to Novus, and she embraced this life, and ever since has nurtured and kept safe her adopted children.
A new day begins with Mira rising into a cloudless sky, igniting the atmosphere on the horizon. The skyline glows a brilliant orange just below the star, and from there the orange fades into a soft violet. Novus’ capital, Astrum, awakes to a brisk morning and the fresh unspoiled air. Surrounding this beacon of sentient life are farmlands twenty kilometers in length, the circle formed around the city is one hundred eighty-eight kilometers in circumference. Beyond these vast green fields, are white deserts and rocklands, black mountain ranges which contrast the pale sands, and expansive turquoise lakes filled with bright green ribbons of algae. Near the family homes of Vis and Loy lies such a lake. Its waters separate them from the nearest space port, and its shores are frequented by Loy; who casually walks along the shoreline as the day begins. He periodically glances across the water to the port on the far side, and fumbles a stone in his right hand, rubbing his fingers across its coarse surface, while holding one of the straps to his pack with his left. The port across the lake can be seen, but its visibility is hampered by its distance and the fog hugging the water’s surface. Through the haze, Loy can only see a lone tower; and at its top, a swiveling light shines through the mist. He pauses for a moment, and then approaches the edge of the lake. His feet sink into the sandy shore with each step, an odor composed of earthy and damp grass like smells invade his nostrils, and gentle ripples of water lap upon the shoreline in a never ending sequence. He takes a few minutes to commit this moment to his memory, while admiring the spaceport’s aeronautical beacon. He raises his right hand, still clutching the stone, and readies to toss it deep into the lake. A thought intercedes before he commits to the act, and he brings the stone before his eyes and examines it closely. I shall carry a piece of Novus with me, and be reminded of her when deep in the dark. He smiles, and carefully places the stone in his pack before slinging it over his shoulder, and resuming his journey.
Loy walks a dirt road that runs along the lakeshore for the duration of his journey. As the day matures the lake fog dissipates, allowing Mira to illuminate the vibrant green algae within the water. He nears the station, and soon comes across others of similar purpose. A growing crowd awaits for the train’s arrival, this encourages Loy to keep his distance while he waits; but this effort is soon thwarted. A familiar face emerges from the mass, and he offers Vis the raising of his hand in a low effort wave.
Vis wears the same standard issue gray flight suit and black boots as him. He calls out to Loy as he approaches, “I’m surprised you weren’t the first one here.”
He extends a hand which Loy shakes, confusing him into a smile. “Why the handshake?”
“Impressions Loy, impressions. We’re now in the company of those who watch our every move.”
“Are there many graduates here?”
Vis steps back and gives the crowd a glance, “Too many I’m afraid. The disappearance of one ship exacts a heavy price.”
It’s strange to see him so concerned. His arrogant confidence rarely gives way to such things. Loy moves past this thought with an observation. “The train should’ve been here by now.”
Vis takes another glance over his shoulder before giving his reply. “Of all days its behind schedule, odd I know; but the cause I’m sure is justifiable.”
Loy nods, “I’m sure you’re right, as always.”
Vis adjusts his position and stands beside Loy while observing the crowded platform. “Not always,” he says grimly.
Caught off guard by such a sudden change in his friend, Loy is unsure what to say. He watches Vis closely as his speech remains darkened by an unknown presence. “Loy, remember my role on this expedition?”
A worrisome smile overcomes Loy as he hesitantly answers. “Of course, I was only told yesterday.”
“I’m to be the ship’s clinical psychologist, but that isn’t the full truth.” Loy’s smile fades as he steps forward to better view his friend’s eyes. “I’ve undertaken two roles, not one.” Loy stays respectfully silent. “I’m serving as a representative for the Union, to ensure all the expedition’s goals are met.”
“You’re serious?” Vis only stares at him, waiting for the realization to settle. “How long have you served them?”
Vis crosses his arms. “I’ve been in their service ever since we’ve graduated from our respective academies. Nearly ten years.”
Loy turns away and faces the platform, his words only above a whisper. “Ten years.”
“To even share this much, breaches the trust my superiors place in me; but I may need your help in the future. So please, keep this to yourself.”
Loy faces him and nods. “I will, but why would you need my help? Why tell me any of this?”
“If I ever need someone to have my back, I would prefer it be you; and I wouldn’t ask while keeping you blind to the truth.”
Did he choose this expedition to only use me as a safety net? Is this why he still treats me as a friend despite his long absences? Or am I letting the past inspire my doubts? “What truth?”
A small sigh escapes Vis. “Union representatives aren’t universally loved, you know this. Sometimes they meet resistance when upholding the commands given to them. Your assistance would be invaluable in such cases.”
“But why me? How would I help you?”
Vis raises his voice above Loy’s. “I just need you to talk sense into people. Like you’ve always done. Sometimes when faced with a difficult choice or danger, people forget the world and only think of themselves.” Loy’s silence and unyielding stare unsettles Vis. “I’m sorry, but I really do believe you can make a difference when irrational thought overcomes people.”
“You do know they had every right to be angry with you, everytime,” Loy smiles.
“Oh please, we were kids; and even then you knew how to talk them down.”
A moment passes and Loy’s smile evolves into a grin as he speaks. “So, every time you had a hunch or a feeling, that in the end was the absolute truth of the matter, was due to your service, not your incredible intuition.”
Vis promptly reacts, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, my intuition is why I’m in this position; but I know you will never abandon that ship.”
Loy steps closer, “So, do you know why the train is late then?”
“Now I’m regretting my decision,” Vis allows a small grin, then the return of heavy conversation chases it away. “I have theories, but nothing concrete, not this time.”
“Are you sure? If you’re trying to hide something from me its not working. Which is surprising since you have a talent for this sort of thing.”
A small bite rings in Vis’ words, “Careful, that isn’t my only talent.”
A low thrum in the distance rises in volume, capturing their attention, and the train pulls into the station. The crowd of graduates mockingly cheer at its arrival while the veteran spacers mutter to each other. Vis starts for the train, “Let’s go.” Loy reaches down for his pack and slings it over his shoulder, before catching up to Vis as he does the same on the platform.
The train itself is sleek by design, and its metallic surface brightly shines in the light of the clear day. Its interior is spacious and simple. Crimson passengers seats line the interior walls, orientated toward the center aisle; where stabilizer bars hang from the ceiling. It’s not long before everyone boards and the doors shut. Finding seats adjacent to each other, the two friends sit down before the train accelerates out of the station.
So many in such close proximity discourages Loy from any further prodding, but his mind finds no rest. Ten years. All those spaces of time I wouldn’t see nor hear from him. What was he doing? What even is he, truly? Even before our brief reunion, he claims the finishing of his studies kept him away; but is that the truth? What does it matter though? Whatever he’s done, and continues to do, is in the service of the Union. He reaches into his pack, pulling out a tablet. The browsing of newsfeeds should distract his curious mind.
Vis ignores Loy and scans the surrounding crowd. Now, where are you? This thought lingers in his mind until he sees his target. There you are. A young man standing in the middle aisle, under two meters in height, keeps one hand affixed to the stabilizer bar. Vis notices the intensity of his grip by the lack of color upon his fingers. His features are small, ears, nose, and mouth. Brown hair cut short, in line with the rest. His eyes intermittently dart from one side to the other, accidentally meeting Vis’ for a brief instance. Vis takes action and rises to his feet, and approaches the seemingly distressed individual. Loy takes notice, but resumes reading his news article without sparing a thought.
As Vis nears, his target remains still and studies him closely. With a polite and sophisticated voice he initiates their conversation. “Excuse me, I’m Viseme Andric, clinical psychologist assigned to the NFF Guile. “I was trying to remember the names of everyone here, but when I saw you, I couldn’t remember yours.”
He answers in a voice hardly climbing above the rest. “Wesley Moss.”
“Pleasure to meet you Wesley.” Vis holds out his hand, forcing Wesley to release his tight grip upon the bar above him, and shake his hand. “I’m sure we’ll get to know each other soon. I’ll look for you after we’re underway.”
“Thank you, sir.” Vis returns to his seat, leaving Wesley unsure of what just happened.
Loy finishes reading another article and looks at Vis. “Who is that?”
“Is he still looking at me?”
Loy attempts a covert glance, but Wesley is quick to swivel his head in another direction. “He was.”
Without hinting for a desire to look himself, Vis keeps his attention focused on Loy. “He appeared a little stressed. Became curious and wanted to know his name, Wesley Moss. Does the name sound familiar to you?”
“No.”
Vis leans back into his seat with a confident thought. It will soon enough. “Anything interesting on the newsfeed?”
Loy rests his tablet on his lap. “Nothing you probably don’t already know about.”
The train slows to a halt as it enters the station attached to the crew quarters. The doors open, but Vis remains unmoving as the train’s occupants empty. Loy stands and prepares to exit with the others, while Vis remains still and unchanging. Loy hesitates to leave the train when he notices. This hesitation forces him to stand aside and let others pass by as they exit, and so he turns his full attention back to Vis with a question in mind.
Before he can verbalize the question, Vis speaks while resting one leg across the other with a hand keeping it in place. “I’m afraid this is where we part ways, for now. We’ll reunite before our departure.”
The last of the other passengers exit behind Loy as he offers his farewell, “It awaits and listens.”
To which Vis replies in his honeyed voice, “It awaits and listens.” Loy nods and exits the train, leaving Vis as the sole occupant.
The doors shut, and the train steadily accelerates out of the station. A quiet hum entertains Vis’ ears as he sits alone, and through the windows his eyes watch as the rest of the spaceport becomes visible. His seated position grants him a desirable view, but he chooses to stand nonetheless. With a hand grasping the stabilizer bar above him, he walks to the window opposite of his seat across the aisle. His face remains as it was, relaxed with lowered eyebrows as he observes the port in its entirety.
The crew quarters building now lays behind him. Up ahead, the train approaches cargo processing and distribution on its left. Vis is careful to notice every detail and structure within each component of the port. He releases his grasp upon the stabilizer bar and brings his face close to the window, placing each hand on the head rests of the two seats in front of him as he leans forward. The cargo processing and distribution buildings are of the same color as most structures within the port; their sides a matte white and rooftops a dark gray. His eyes catch a freight train transporting cargo as it emerges from one of the larger structures. His eyes follow it until it reaches the distribution center. From there it will switch tracks and arrive at the designated dock; where the cargo will be transferred to an outbound ship.
Vis’ train soon passes by the distribution center as well, before the tracks guide it into a left bend. Vis readies himself by returning a hand to the stabilizer bar, his body sways only but a little. His attention then returns to the right. He repeats his actions and leans in close to the window as he observes passing docks; the last components of the spaceport one travels through before boarding. Most of these docks are empty this morning, but he observes one ship readying for departure as he passes them by. At the far end of the line, upon the last dock, a landed shuttle can be seen. He examines it closely, admiring its design. The belly of the craft forms an elongated triangular shape, with the nose being at the narrow end, and the thrusters at the widened. With the landing gear deployed, the craft stands nearly sixteen meters tall, and a gray coloration covers most of the craft while the belly is a darkened shade of the same color. Its relatively uniform in shape and size, with few distinct markings or characteristics upon its surface.
As the train decelerates, Vis slings his pack over his shoulder, and places himself in front of the doors. When they open, he’s greeted by a port security officer who salutes him. “Sir, Captain Mar is waiting on board sir.”
Vis salutes him without a spoken word, and walks past the officer. The dock itself is the final checkpoint spacers must pass through before boarding their ships. Within the dock building a final security check is made, and from there spacers will find a large waiting area filled with tables, chairs, and large windows which offer a clear view of the landing pad. Vis approaches the security checkpoint, where another officer stands ready to process him. He hands the officer his I.D. card, then firmly places his hand on a scanner standing waist high. He then states his identity to the officer. “Viseme Andric. Date of birth, O’three, twenty one, one six nine. Technocratic Union representative and clinical psychologist assigned to the NFF Guile.” The scanner verifies his fingerprints match the information stored on the card. The officer behind the desk acknowledges the verification and returns his I.D.
He marches on, passing through the waiting area and ultimately the rear exit leading to the landing pad. He finds a steady breeze awaiting him when he leaves the confines of the dock building, cooling his body; a brief shiver courses through him. It carries with it small particles of dust and sand from the surrounding rocklands. During sudden gusts, they sparingly sting the exposed skin upon his face.
Behind the shuttle, beyond the borders of the spaceport, is a flat plain of rock and soil pale white in color, the Novusion wilderness. In the far distance, black mountain ranges reach for the bluish pink horizon. Another gust of wind passes by as Vis ascends the stairs leading to the shuttle’s airlock. After passing through the outer shuttle entrance, the door closes shut behind him, bestowing his ears reprieve from the outside winds.
A fully suited spacer, with her helmet cradled in one arm at her side, welcomes Vis aboard. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.” She extends her right hand and offers Vis a handshake. “My name is Annabelle Fiché, I am Captain Mar’s first lieutenant.”
“Viseme Andric.”
Miss Fiché is a veteran spacer with years of service behind her. Experience shows itself through her lean face and defined cheekbones. Her age visits upon her a shade of gray, as her eyebrows and hair take on a silver sheen, matching her bluish gray eyes. Her moderately long hair is tightly pulled back into a compact bun, not a single hair out of place. Her full-toned voice carry words leaving none doubting her wisdom and ability to command. All this Vis knew, and anticipated.
Lieutenant Fiché wears a standard issue space suit befit of someone belonging to the Novus First Fleet. The suit is light and well fitting in nature, and does well to provide excellent mobility and flexibility. While mostly white in color, blue accents and markings cover the suit in most areas. Upon where the arm meets the shoulder, rests the emblem of the Technocratic Union of Novus; a silver bordered equilateral triangle dark blue in color, with a silver circle bordering each wall within it. The circle itself is divided into sixteen sections by black lines, they extend from a smaller circle of the same color in its center. Vis notices the weathered and worn look of the emblem, as small abrasion marks streak through it.
The lieutenant faithfully retains her professional image, and directs Vis while holding an upright posture. “You will find the captain in the passenger cabin. I’ll be here if needed.” She leans to her right and activates the door release, clearing the way for Vis. Sliding to one side, the door opens, leaving just enough room for someone to comfortably walk through. After Vis passes through the entrance, the lieutenant closes the door behind him.
One hundred eighty seats fill the passenger cabin. Vis scans them all searching for the captain, but only finds him when his eyes reach the final row. He’s chosen a seat next to the aisle, and appears to be looking down at something in his hands. Vis carefully approaches, taking each step with deliberation and quiet intent. He seats himself across the aisle from the captain, placing his luggage on a nearby seat; and waits patiently for the captain to pull his eyes away from his tablet.
Captain Aiden Mar, a man hardly old enough to be Vis’ father, places his device on the seat next to him before turning to face him. He wears the same gray flight suit, the only exception are the golden bars resting on his shoulders. His side parted black hair and light brown skin absorb the ambient light of the shuttle’s interior. Above his lips he wears a sophisticated mustache extending no further than the corners of his mouth, and no lower than below his upper lip. Heavy dark eyebrows rest over his brown eyes which meet Vis’ without hesitation, as do his words reach Vis’ ears. “Before we begin, allow me to make myself clear, Mr. Andric. The Guile is our home. You are a guest, and I am your host.” He smiles, “Whom is very generous. I’m aware of your reputation, and of your methods. I understand they produce results, but sometimes at a great cost. Know this, my crew are not yours to expend at will. If you endanger them needlessly, you will find me quick to dismiss you.”
Vis allows himself to smile. He admires the captain, and knows well his service record. He’s served aboard the Guile his entire career, a born spacer. He’s beheld more of the universe firsthand than any citizen of Astrum has seen in a sim. The most impressive of his accomplishments, in Vis’ eyes, is the number of unstable bridges he’s crossed. Such a thing holds enough danger to only chance once, but Captain Mar, it seems, believes himself immortal. Vis studies the captain only for a moment before choosing his first words. “I respect the man and the rank, captain.” His eyes narrow, “I also respect the Union our people share. Without it, we would be no better than those of our ancestral home. But you and I both understand the fragility of our Union. We understand the threat of its dissolution, and the potential chaos it could bring. Do you fear it, as I do?”
Aiden shifts in his seat to better face Vis. “I only fear the inability to look beyond oneself.”
Vis relaxes his eyes and grins. “Well, then we have nothing to fear in each other, Captain.”
Aiden responds with a subtle nod of the head, and then with words. “Shall we read our orders?”
“Of course.” Vis reaches into a chest pocket without breaking eye contact, and then pulls out a small metal card; he holds it out to Aiden.
When Aiden’s fingers make contact with the card, black lettering materializes on its surface. He studies it briefly before reading them aloud. “Set a course for Eisen’s Ring, and survey the following systems.” Aiden pauses as he mouths the names of the systems to himself. He then looks up from the card to Vis. “I’ll spare you the reading of the system names, but it seems this endeavor is merely exploratory in nature, but your presence tells me a different story.”
Vis’ humorous expressions leave him as he answers with a quiet malice. “It’s our belief those who seceded from the Union have discovered a new home, and we have evidence it’s there. We will mask ourselves as explorers to the crew. To ensure we appear as such if we’re discovered in the region.”
“And after we verify the location of their new home, then what?”
“Once their location is verified, we send for the rest of the fleet, and take it.”
Aiden leans forward in his seat, “Why? What have they done to warrant such action? And why keep our orders a secret from the crew?”
Vis tilts his head slightly to one side. “Do you remember the NFF Oblivion’s Door?”
Aiden opens his palms in a gesture, “Of course, she went MIA two seasons ago. A tragedy, I was a friend to many of the officers on board.”
“There was a mutiny.”
Aiden smiles in disbelief and shakes his head. “Based on what? I know the crew, few are as loyal.”
Vis ignores Aiden’s objections. “And the mutineers won. We have reason to believe they brought Oblivion’s Door to the exiled in Eisen’s Ring. Captain, may I ask you a question? Ever since wormhole travel became available to us all, how many habitable worlds have we discovered?”
Aiden retains a small grin. “None.”
“Correct, and how many semi-habitable worlds have we discovered?”
Aiden’s grin fades. “None.”
“Correct,” Vis smiles, “And if they found such a rare world, would it be in the best interest of the Novusion people to let it go unchallenged?” Aiden remains silent. “Or, if they haven’t found anything, do you really think they’ll remain in exile with their newfound strength?” Aiden is silent still. “They pose a threat to us, either way.”
Aiden asks again, “Why not tell the crew?”
Vis’ smile disappears. “Because, captain, I’ve brought an enemy spy on board, and he will lead us to our prize.”