—Tempered Longing, Bridge —

Several hours of empty time had passed after the launch. The crew had filtered through out the Longing as Io receded away.

Outside the main window, stars speckled the view. The reflection of the bridge seemed surreal with the pinpoints of light dotting the phantoms of the crew on the glass. A display pointed towards their destination, Pluto, highlighting it in green with their travel time and velocity displayed. Other highlights showed nearby, in celestial terms, ships traveling along their own paths highlighted in orange.

Saule stretched in the curved bridge chair. His back quietly popped as it arced. A twist to the side elicited more creaks and noises from him. Leaving a gravity well was never easy, and already several systems were alerting him of required maintenance. Even for a small moon, launching a two hundred meter long ship was an incredible feat, and risky. The natural glow of his eyes dimmed as they scanned a rolling inventory on his command screen. The rest of the bridge crew were stretched along with him, Michael made the most amount of noise. They were all in their customized pressure suits for the launch, at the request of the Press supervisor Earth and Plinth had selected.

Everyone had been given leeway to personalize their suits, as the deployment was unknown length of time and the crew would potentially be representing the entirety of Human Glint . Saule had reached out to a tailor on Plinth to add several ribbons of various colors and patterns to his own pressure suit. Each one had a ship's name on it, a small icon and a date. The first few ribbons were stylized oceans in soft blues and white, with water vessels and flags. The most recent ones were black ribbons speckled with multicolored dots and streamers of light. The last ribbon had the name, The Mad Dash, the vessel that he captained and the Glint had made first contact with humanity in, emblazoned on it in bold red lettering.

“I hope we don't need to launch the Tempered Longing from gravity again, that was brutal,” remarked Michael from the pilot's station. His head angled sharply to the side as one hand kneaded his neck, “Why couldn't we have just made her in the asteroid facility near Ceres? I'm sure they would have loved to have had a hand in making her.”

Michael, had gone to a designer in Saturn's orbit for his own, and ended up with something that resembled an ancient aviation jacket. A dark leather outer layer with a plush beige collar covered his torso, with a more typical light blue flight suit beneath. Several patches of different brands and bands decorated the left sleeve and half of the jacket, while the right side had a stitched in pattern showing the history of Human flight.

“None of their facilities were large enough, and the other docks large enough, were under Union Guild Military contract. Only Io had the capability, while also not having classified military ships being prototyped in the hangar,” replied Saule.

Beside Michael, Wensley drifted slowly from his own chair, his suit was a vibrant green with orange stripes twisting around his limbs like ivy. Red veins in the stripes curled and twisted like calligraphy. A team of fashion designers had fought tooth and claw for the chance. On the back, a large logo of the winning company covered his left shoulder, a swooping creature that resembled a frog.

Wensley's own stretches had pushed him away from his seat, added while he turned upside down, “None of the others have volcanoes erupting in time with the launch. I'm certain that was planned.”

“You're both right. I just think it would have been easier," admitted Michael, “I've posted our flight path now, and I can already see a few private yachts and civilian ships alternating their own to pass us by.”

Saule cocked an ear at that, “Oh, is that a tradition among humans too?”

Michael snorted and replied. “Nah, most likely trying to get clout for the richer ones or if they're like Duilim, space survivalists, trying to get some insight on new ship designs and specifications. Check out the new line, see if it's worth upgrading. Maybe one or two are doing it to say they were there when the Tempered Longing launched.”

“That's very… Human, of them.” commented Saule, “Glint have a tradition of ships sailing close to new vessels to impart some of their older ships cunning and luck onto the new craft.”

“That's interesting, we have a tradition of ship names determining the luck of a vessel. If it's a good name that fits the ship, she'll have a long life. If the name is bad, the ship won't last long.”

“How so?”

Michael turned his neck the other direction with a crack, and replied, “Well, there's a legend that the U.S. tried to buck some superstitions about Fridays and the number thirteen. So they made a ship built on Fridays, named the ship Friday, had her Captain be a poor fellow named James Friday. Finally they launched her on Friday the thirteenth.”

“Did it work?” asked Saule.

“No, the ship disappeared without a trace as soon as it was out of sight of the coast.”

A chuckle sounded from Stuhkey on Michael's right side. He had finished his exercises, and was going over some information at his own terminal. Muted purples accented by

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Stuhkey asked, “That sounds like if it was real, it would have only made things worse. Is it true?”

Michael laughed, “No, it's a legend like I said. Yet, people still avoid sailing on Fridays and the number thirteen. If you check floor listings on human buildings, you'll quite frequently see that there is no thirteenth floor.”

Wensley responded, “We have things like that too, like don't have a race on what would be the second Wednesday or the winner will be injured for the next year.”

Their conversation faded to background noise as Saule thought back to his youth. Learning to sail with his adopted father on the small sloop on the purple oceans of Plinth. He relaxed backwards in the chair and smiled. He had a good feeling about this ship’s name.

—Tempered Longing, Common Room —

Duilim, Naytani, and Flik were seated around the large central table, several tablets floated in front of them, as each would gesture to one or grab another.

“What are all these machines you got installed in the engine room, Duilim? I don’t recognize any of these, apart from the ones that were on the blueprints.” asked Naytani, a grey furred Glint in a standard pressure suit with the concession of one patch showing her hometown, “I recognize the auto fabricators and micro-refineries, but these two blue ones are attached to your signet code.”

In Duilim's empty helmet, his projected face turned to face her, “Oh those? They're some older fabricators. They don't have the same tolerances as the new tech we got, but they are much faster with a lower power draw. I brought them on in case we needed to prototype something quickly or needed emergency parts.”

Duilim's gear was reminiscent of an early cosmonaut's orange pressure suit, but with a large thick backpack and several integrated thrusters around his chest and limbs. In the pack was an illegal but approved AI core.

Naytani sighed, “Please let me know next time you decide to do that. I had that space set aside for the two spare miniature reactors. I had to put them in the cargo bay.”

“Why do we need spare reactors? I thought our fabricator could just make a new one if we needed it.” asked Flik, the other Glint with yellowish brown fur and grey eyes. Her suit was a cheerful cherry red, but otherwise unadorned. She hadn't looked up from her tablet, “I know we are on this trip for the long haul, almost a year, but surely we won't need to do major repairs like that?”

Duilim and Naytani shared a significant look with each other. “You just jinxed us” / “We need to be prepared for a worst case scenario.”

Flik twitched her eyes at that, “What's a jinx?”

A sound of polymer sliding signaled a bulkhead opening as another person entered the common room.

Patricia walked in with a hot drink and said, “A jinx is when someone says something that calls down the event or thing that they are talking about down, by talking about it.”

As she let her drink packet float, her eyes looked over the spread tablets, "I see you three are already deep into the ship's guts on the first day of the trip. Please don't make me have to include explaining improvised weapons or untested technology on my first contact protocols."

"That was when I had a ship body! It barely even counts," complained Duilim, "Every digital person with a ship does it. Hell, even regular people do it, I've seen survivalists out there with rotary cannons labeled as 'rapid asteroid sampling kits' "

With a sigh, Patricia responded, “That still doesn't make it legal. We know that as soon as anyone with any technical knowledge gets into a ship, they immediately strap guns to it. It's illegal to keep it toned down to those rock poppers and not something truly dangerous.”

Flik had leaned forward while listening to the two, and asked with an arm propping up her head, “Why would someone do that?”

Patricia paused, then spoke, “I'm sure Glint have the drive to explore and make themselves the main character of their life as we humans do. Was there ever a time when a new land opened up and people began to stake out their claims, violently even?”

“Well yes, that was how the Pan Oceanic Islands got started, until they united.”

“That'll happen again. Right now, our government is doing our best to keep Sol under one government, but there are already rumors of colonies about to declare independence.”

Flik frowned with thought, “I can see why that's going to be an issue. We haven't thought about that issue yet. Are you worried these new colonies and governments may out compete the Sol Guilds?”

“No, what we are concerned about is them making decisions or choices that will impact the rest of Humanity. I imagine when Duilim made contact with you, you thought all humans were like him. Digital, having left behind their mortal bodies and ascended to a new level of existence,” remarked Patricia.

Duilim cut in with a grin, “Hey! I was a volunteer for the upload testing and if anything I have regressed back down to my base desires thank you very much.”

“Surprisingly no, a popular author several decades before our meeting had posited that any long distance probe would be automated or an artificial intelligence of some sort. Flesh and blood just wouldn't last and required too many things.” stated Naytani, “They passed away a short while ago, but I heard they won a large bet from a scientist.”

— Tempered Longing, Bridge —

Wensley, Michael, and Stuhkey had turned their flight chairs towards a central console, where a game of cards was being played. The deck hovered gently between them, a bit of static keeping the cards together.

“And that's why I'm on this mission, I have to prove win a bet,” said Wensley, playing a card and upsetting the precariously floating deck, “Got any nines?”

Michael frowned, “Didn't you already lose that bet?”

Wensley grinned, his eyes flashed brightly, “Only the first part! If I can prove the average space faring civilization uses colony ships or manned vessels for their first contact, I can win it back.”

“Wens, you do realize that being part of a mission that is focusing on finding new people to make contact with, you're skewing the data, right?” asked Stuhkey as a queen of hearts glided past his face.

The three frowned at the cards floating in front of them, Michael volunteered, “Reshuffle? I think I have some sticky tack to keep them down.”

“Maybe cards aren't a good idea while we aren't under thrust,” said Stuhkey.

“Maybe a board game then. Anyone of you familiar with Monopoly?”

“I think Duilim swore it off when he saw it in the rec room, something about it being too violent. Does it need protective gear?” asked Wensley.

Michael chuckled, “Only if you play it with house rules, besides I think one game would last us until we get clearance to activate the Alcubierre Drive.

”

“Why do we need clearance to use the drive? It's not as if there's anything in front of to hit,” asked Wensley.

“Think back to your basic interactions Wen. Every cause has an effect. The drive wrinkles the fabric of space and time, and like a boat moving through water, we leave a wake,” responded Stuhkey who was reading the rules, “And like boats and wake the faster, or larger a boat it is affects the wake.”

Michael nodded, “That's better than my explanation, but it didn't have enough bananas.”

Both Glint asked, “Bananas?”

“Yeah, for scale. Bigger Banana means a bigger peel, and you don't want someone else to slip on your peel.”

Both Glint audibly muttered under their breath, looked at each other then turned back to the rules, and Wensley asked, “So what does free parking do?”

— Elsewhere —

It had been raining for that last few days. What had been a smoking silver mound, half covered in dirt and debris, was cleaned off and shining in the light.

For such a large vessel, the amount of occupants that came and went from it was small. They had sealed the jagged sections that had been punctured by rocks and large trees, many of which still smoked persistently from their snapped trunks. Smoke no longer billowed from the ship, but small streamers of grey betrayed small rents in the gravelly hull. The beings meticulously went about repairing those rents, but it took time. Occasionally a large one with wings and clothing covering its torso would appear and direct the others or go with a group into the forest that lay beyond the hill that had halted the ship's landing.

Today, it appeared again and took half the ones that were outside with it. Most directed empty contraptions that trundled along on wheels. The group made its way towards the forest with an air of trepidation, apparent even in their forms. The winged one frequently turned upwards and watched as the workers moved forward. Its wings twitched as if in irritation, then it looked back down towards the path that was being churned up.

It then began to rain.