Gateway to the Stars

"FUCK!" You shout. You reach for it but the device spins slowly, just out of reach.

"Oxygen at 42%." The way-too-calm voice announces. "Please return to the ship for repairs."

You take a giant stride forward, fingers reaching out, stretching... there! Got it! You close your hand around the handle of the blastbolt launcher. You plant your feet firmly on the hull and begin a quick march towards the cockpit.

Finally, the window comes into view and you can peer into the ship.

You can see yourself, notBrenna, from behind and despite the blaring of the helmet, the cold unsettling of space or the impending doom of crashing into the star, you are struck by how good you look.

You so rarely get to see your own body from the outside - but her legs are toned, her hips full but not large and the hourglass figure accentuated by the jumpsuit. She's shouting into the comm panel with the bloodied body of Lia at her feet.

You take a deep breath, step back from the window and aim the launcher at the cockpit.

"Oxygen at 29%. Please return to the ship for repairs." The voice announces in your head.

"I'm working on it!" You snap to no one in particular and fire the launcher.

The recoil nearly knocks the device from your hand as a fat black hockey puck flies from the tip of the launcher and sticks to the window of the cockpit. It flashes - orange, purple, GREEN and then

BOOOM! Flames blossom in front of you and the explosion knocks you back - though your magnitized boots stay stuck to the hull. There's a huge rush of air coming gushing out and you run forward towards the gap.

notBrenna tumbles past you, her hair whirling in the weightlessness of space, her eyes open in shock. She shouts something as she flies past out into the abyss but you can't make it out. You turn away, unwilling to watch your own demise and leap down into the cockpit just in time to catch Lia.

Pulling her unconscious form with you - you stagger towards the big red button on Esiar's cockpit and pound it with a balled fist.

BzzzAP! A temporary forcefield snaps in place over the blasthole.

"Oxygen at 17%, please return to the ship for repairs." You ignore the Zooey Deschanel sounding alarm and hobble over to the blast door, keying the open button with a fat, gloved hand.

WHOOOSH. The air equalizes and Esiar and Arven run in. Esiar makes a b-line for the pilot's controls, punching buttons and yanking on the throttle as Arven kneels at Lia, making sure she's okay.

"Uh... you guys?" Esiar begins. You pound the release on your helmet and yank it off your head, resisting the urge to gulp the fresher air of the Silent Leopard.

"It is the advent of both good and bad news." Esiar says - the dielectapeeds struggling with another idiom. "Best news, we aren't crashing into the star." She points out the window.

"Bad news, we are caught in an OCC Battlestar tractor beam!"

The ship you spotted earlier, a large ugly wedge of a ship now fills the entire view from the bridge as you, and everyone on the Silent Leopard, is slowly pulled into the belly of the battleship.

###

The docking bay on the underbelly of the OCC ship is already open by the time your ship is pulled through it but there are no signs of life as you approach, just vast expanses of darkness.

"Creepy religious motherfuckers." Arven mutters under his breath.

FOOM. A spotlight illuminates our ship as we float through this cavernous empty space, with arching, cathedral-like architecture.

"Who are the OCC?" You ask. Esiar and Arven give you a startled look but Lia just sets her jaw into a grimace, her eyes not leaving in cockpit windows.

"They started as a religious cult - a bunch of fanatics in long robes talking about spreading The Word throughout the galaxy. Then they found these," she gestures out the window. "Vast starships made by some long gone race. They call them the First StarWalkers. I call them a lucky break. The ships are nearly indestructible in battle and can support an entire army without ever stopping for supplies." Lia shakes her head.

"Not just ships." Arven replies. "Weapons - technology no one had seen in thousands of years." He grimaces, his thoughts turning back to his own scorched homeworld. "It didn't take long for them to find some new followers."

The ship lurches to a stop in the middle and then slowly begins descending to the floor of the docking bay.

"These days," Esiar picks up the narrative, "the OCC mainly minds the Haven Conduits and gets into skirmishes with smaller planetary systems. They aren't fond of heathens, illicit cargo or travelers that don't use their gates." She gives wry laugh. "We tend to give them a wide berth."

Chet pulls himself up the ladder into the cockpit and immediately begins babbling.

"Oh shit, I thought it looked like an OCC battleship! I'm sorry everyone, that Brenna bitch got the jump on you. I can't believe that she did us dirty like that."

"Seems like she did more than get the jump on you..." Esiar snarks. Arven gives a wheezing laugh.

"Hi Chet." You say simply. He jerks back, suddenly noticing your presence and begins grasping for a weapon.

"Hey..."

"... woah there!" Esiar and Arven move to intercept.

"Do you know what she fucking did?!" Chet begins shouting.

"There was an evil sex clone." Esiar answers. "Don't worry, we flushed her into space."

"... evil sex clone?" Chet asks cautiously.

THUMP. The ship touches down.

"Look sharp everyone, let's go meet our captors." Lia says.

###

At the bottom of the Silent Leopard's ramp, three men stood. They work long blue tabards that hang over their shoulders with ceremonial while script embroidered along the side. Their heads were covered with simple black skull caps that reached just above their ears and their faces wore nearly identical scowls. The five of you slowly proceed down the ramp, moving slowly so as to not alarm them.

"Praise be The Word." calls out the lead man. "And all who carry it."

Lia gives a slight nod.

"I am Bishop Thomas, this is Bishop Cadfael and Bishop Hughes. You have the honor of standing on the holy vessel Sacrament. Which one of you is the captain of your vessel?"

Lia steps forward. "I am Captain Lia Vummai of the Silent Leopard. Why have you impounded my ship?"

Bishop Thomas gives a nod to Cadfael, who makes some notes on a digital pad.

"All in good time, Captain. What brings you to this system?"

"As you could see, we were recharging our solar array and preparing for the next gyrodrive jump. Just a little pitstop, Brother Thomas."

"Bishop." He corrects her. Lia's voice is calm but her body tense. You glance over at Arven, his hands in front of him with forced casualness. You wish you had grabbed your ReelNet but no one else had armed themselves.

"Gyrodrive - you don't see many of those around these days, do you Brother Cadfael?" says Thomas.

"Indeed you don't." He replies.

"Something wrong with using a Haven Conduit?" Brother Thomas asks. Lia shakes her head.

"Not at all, our work just sometimes takes us off the beaten path."

"And what sort of work is that, precisely?" says Bishop Thomas.

"Botany." Lia responds. "We are a research vessel. We actually have several specimens on board that need to be transported back to our laboratory so if we could just be on our way..."

Bishop Cadfael's digital pad lights up with a beep and he looks down at it frowning. He leans forward and shows Thomas.

"Ah, I see your reputation precedes you Captain Vummai. I am afraid I am going to have to take you all into custody. Please, if you all could..."

"FUCK OFF!" Esiar leaps forward, like a feral cat, tackling Bishop Cadfael to the ground. Arven stumbles into you, fumbling around the waistband of your skirt.

Brother Hughes throws a small grey pebble into the air between both groups where it hovers for the briefest of moments and whines like a flash bulb.

"Oh hell..." Chet moans and then

FLASH!!!

A red light floods your vision and the ramp of the Silent Leopard hurtles up to slap you in the face, but you are out before you hit the ground.

Yikes! I'll do 1. You make these choices hard!

###

Gurgle clink clink. A dark green porcelain tea kettle pours a thick, brown liquid into two square cups, which knock together softly on the table.

You shake your head and look around - it's dark but a soft light emanates from a lantern on the coffee table in front of you. You squint, trying to get your eyes to focus on one thing. Your palms press against the soft fabric of the couch beneath you, as you follow the curve of the horseshoe shaped seat to the woman sitting across from you pouring the tea.

She hands you a cup.

"Drink up, it will help with the post-cognitive symptoms of the Red Flash." She smiles warmly and hands you one of the cups.

The liquid is a deep velveting brown and as you stare into the cup, it's depths seem endless. A reflection of a reflection of a reflection. The woman leans forward, touching your hand with hers.

"It's okay and it will help. My mother used to give me a cup after I got hurt Flare Jumping. The Rubicon root helps get your head back on the right track.

She's wearing a soft dress, pulled tight across her chest but shifting effortlessly across her body - creating a shimmering mirage. Her bracelets jangle, charms carved with the same script as the Bishop's tabards but made from gleaming silver.

You look back at the cup and put it to your lips, taking a long draught of the thick, chocolatey substances. It goes down smooth, smelling faintly of cinnamon and a little cayenne. You take another sip, finishing the cup before looking up and finally, holding the woman's gaze.

"Hello, welcome back." She says softly, taking the cup from you. "My name is Admiral Stasha Tristai. Praise be the word and all who carry it." Her voice is light and kind. "What's your name?"

"Brenna Sweeney." You sound more confident than you feel but already the brain fog is lifting and the room is coming into focus.

The horseshoe couch, with its dark fabric and soft cushions, sits in the middle of an arched chamber. The room, while by no means small, felt cozy, lit by lanterns and decorated with embroidered hangings.

On one wall, you see food machines and cabinets, including display shelves of pressed flowers, and a few potted plants.

The other side of the room included a desk, piled with a number of digital pads and a small altar. You note the horseshoe couch faces the double-doors at one end of the room but a smaller door adorns the back corner.

Stasha watches you intently as you complete your survey of the room.

"Do you like my office?" She asks. You nod.

"Technically, since this entire ship is a church, this is supposed to be called a Rectory but we are a working vessel so this is my office." She sips her cup, her eyes never leaving yours.

"Have you ever been on an OCC ship before?"

"No." you answer.

"They are filled with mysteries." She confides. "Take this table, for instance," she taps the coffee table.

"At first glance, it appears to be carved out of wood, right?" The deep red wood was so intricately carved, it seemed as if to be woven from a series of madrona sapolings and formed into a table.

"However, when I took a sample, the computer tells me that no, it is made from a titanium composite. Okay, a bit weird. It doesn't look like titanium, it certainly doesn't feel like titanium and I was able to shave off a slice with a vibraknife but computer is resolute. There can be no mistake - it is titanium."

She holds up her hands. "So I test this couch - what does it tell me? Titanium. The cabinets? Titanium. The walls - all of it. Titanium."

"A mystery." You reply. Stasha's smile is wry and playful as she uncoils a little closer to you, her hand resting lightly on the cushion next to yours.

"Exactly. If everything on this ship was made from the same material - how does it fly? Why create things like wood if they are not? Was Titanium the only material available to the First StarWalkers, hallowed are their names, or did they choose this because they could work it into whatever shape they needed?"

She leans in and you find yourself fixating on her lips - soft and perfect - as they quirk up at the edges, ever holding back a smile.

"I like to know the substance of things - what they are made from and where they come from. No matter how... pleasing... the exterior, it is what is on the inside that interests me most." The compliment is clear as day and you feel your cheeks burn from the attention.

"Now, while you were out from the Red Flash, I took the liberty of doing a brief medscan and I cannot find any species match in our database and the OCC has traveled to many many worlds. So tell me, Brenna, where are you from?"

You look down at your skirts and smooth them absentmindedly.

"I am from a planet called Earth. I'm not really sure how to describe where it is." You admit.

"Earth." She says, as if noting it in her head. "How did you come to leave your planet and come to be traveling with the crew of the Silent Leopard?"

You briefly consider lying but are skeptical what good it would do. You don't feel like a prisoner at the moment, and it is not like you could point out Earth on a map.

"I traveled through a portal to leave my planet - I'm not sure how far I traveled but I believe it was far. When I arrived where the portal deposited me, I found myself in the middle of a firefight and thankfully Captain Vummai took me in."

Stasha gives a bemused chuckle.

"Lia always did have something for strays and pretty girls." Stasha puts the cups on a dish and picks them up, giving you a few of her rather spectacular form as she glides over to the kitchen to deposit the dishes.

"Can't say I blame her in this case. I'd take you with me too."

Stasha returns, sitting right next to you on the couch, your legs almost touching.

"I can see you are still worried. Let me give you my oath, as an admiral and One Who Carries the Word, no harm will come to you at my hands or by order. You are safe here." She gives you a little conspiratorial grin.

"After all, I didn't poison the Rubicon root. That has to count for something, at least." She bites her lips, brushing some of her dark brown hair out of her face.

"I'd like to get to know you a little better, and maybe, if you are willing, we can help each other. I think we have a lot that we can do for each other - don't you agree?"

"That depends." You reply. "I would be happy to help provided I know my friends are safe." She gives you a measuring look and then hits a button on her digital pad.

"Novice Diana." She intones. "Can you confirm the status of all crewmembers of the Silent Leopard and bring it to the rectory?"

"As you wish, Admiral." The voice is soft and polite. She thumbs the channel closed and looks up at you with a smile.

"See, won't take but a moment. In the meantime, let's go for a walk."

She leads you out of the Rectory, her deep plum dress accenting her curves as she glides through the metal double doors to a vast cathedral shaped hall - with vaulted ceilings several stories tall. She swiftly walks between the pews and onto a small raised dais, about six feet wide.

"Step on." She commands and as you plant your feet, the dais rises into the air with a faint hum. She taps a few instructions into her digital pad and the floating tile carries you through the cathedral, through a dark tunnel, and into the bowels of the ship.

"So tell me about your home planet." Stasha begins. "Has your species developed interstellar travel yet?"

"Yes." You lie. "Just in my lifetime." You add, hoping to sound confident. She raises her eyebrows but does not contest it.

"And on this planet of yours, you were a fisher?"

You give her a confused look. The admiral hands you the cold, reassuring handle of your ReelNet.

"Found it on your person before you awoke. I searched you myself." The admiral leers at you.

The tunnel arcs gently down and you can hear a faint thrum, thrum, thrum, as if the ship itself was breathing.

"Where are we going?" You ask.

"Right now, the Sacrament is set to rendezvous with the Atonement, a science and exploratory vessel, to consult and exchange crew." Admiral Stasha Tristai says.

The dais comes to a halt over a large shaft and then descends down, like some poorly let elevator. Occasionally, you see figures in tabards moving materials or floating on their own flying platforms but they pass swiftly. Finally the dais comes to a stop in a large dome light room, like the inside of a planetarium.

"Can you tell me what the Silent Leopard was doing before they came to this system to recharge their power banks?" She asks. You think, choosing your words carefully.

"We had a run in with some pirates - they boarded our ship to try and seize our vessel but we were able to overcome them."

Tristai nods.

"And before that?"

You think back and suddenly realize what she is getting at. She sees it in your face

"Computer, pull up Admiral Tristai file 7188." She says. The room fills with a thousand pinpricks of light, floating in mid-air, forming a line drawing of the shattered battlecruiser you explored a few days ago.

Floating right in front of your dais, the two miner pods sail into the debris, wiggling and jetting back and forth as you and Esiar play before entering the narrow confines of the former battlecruiser.

"Oh, that." You answer lamely.

"Now the theft is an affront to First Starwalkers and a violation of OCC law but that can all be resolved. What I really want to know about is this." She points towards the probe, floating slowly from the Silent Leopard towards the anomaly.

"What did Lia say when she retrieved the probe?"

"Um..." you struggle to remember. "I'm not sure."

The display shifts around you, showing the Silent Leopard floating in orbit around a star, the solar collectors fully deployed.

"How about this - what happened here?" You see a bright flash within the cockpit and then a flickering light of the pulsating anomaly. Stasha peers at you closely.

"Ah, Lia recreated the anomaly but it quickly destabilized and we had to shut it down." You answer.

"Good, that seems to be the most common reaction. Did Lia say what the anomaly does?" Stasha reaches up and brushes a strand of your hair out of your face while you think - a suddenly intimate gesture that catches you off guard.

"She didn't say." You answer. Stasha presses her lips into a thin line.

"Ok." The admiral hits a button on her pad and the display vanishes. She gives a dismissive wave of the pad and the dais floats back through the tunnels.

"This ship is huge." You offer. "How old is it?"

"No one knows for how long the First Starwalkers used these ships." She replies. "But they require a crew of at least thirty to fly, and currently we have over a hundred of our brethren serving on this vessel."

The tunnel is half-filled with water, but the hulking metal hallways show no sign of rust, just the occasional bout of steam.

"Did you always want to be an admiral?" You ask, desperately hoping to keep the conversation centered on her. She laughs.

"No, for many years, I actually studied to be a botanist." She rubs her arms absent-mindedly. "I had dreams of discovering cures for galactic plagues or new foods for developing colonies."

The dais coasts back through the cathedral, the stellar light from outside filling the space with sharp shafts of light through the windows and deep shadows.

"But one night, I had an epiphany. I was standing on the Domino deck outside my sleeping pod when, in an instant, the heavens opened up before me. I had a moment of clarity, where all the universe, in its vast and wondrous creation, unfurled before me - as if I could reach out and touch each and every life that was living or had ever lived in this universe. Throughout it all, this glorious song - a transcendent melody that carried me through body and soul."