[[[Within the Veil ]]]
> [[[Arcel Sector]]]
> [[[Sindrion System]]]
> [[[Sindrion III orbit]]]
> [[[Aboard RAL-port FJ-13]]]
Three centuries ago, the Sindrion system was first colonized. The Runora had pushed further and further outwards from their Birthworld until they reached the small neutron-star system on the very edge of Veil-covered void.
The hyper-dense corpse of a red giant doesn’t make for the most welcoming of suns: Instead of the infrared rays that warm so many worlds circling “normal” stars, the 14-kilometer wide marble spits out a lethal spectrum of X-rays that has long since scorched away anything that survived the star’s Supernova rebirth, but the Runora make do.
Thus Sindrion had become the 258th system the Runora may call their own. It wasn’t much of a homely home, mind you. The entire system more closely resembled an enormous industrial complex, employing some 70 billion laborers who just also happened to live there. Their task was simple: To strip the Sindrion system of every last sliver of her natural resources and turn them into all manner of technologies to feed the Runoran march of progress.
And of those resources, there were plenty. When fat ‘ole Sind blew her giant guts out a rough 150 million years ago, a significant amount of those innards was pulled right back in by the remaining gravity well, creating millions of asteroids consisting of nothing but valuable metals. Those asteroids that didn’t band together in belts had rained down on the three rocky planets that maintained a stable orbit, covering them in a metal-rich outer crust a few kilometers deep, ripe for the taking.
The system was a treasure trove no expanding species could hope to resist. Even now, with war on their doorstep, the Sindrionites diligently worked their shifts. The blueish engine flares from their mining and transport vessels were visible from the armorglass window, untold thousands of them breaking apart Sindrion III’s rings bit by bit.
At these distances, the ships’ torches outshone the star the very system was named after, rendering it virtually unfindable against the backdrop of endless shimmering specks that dotted the deep dark of the infinite void.
Cai watched them go about their work with wide eyes. He’d planned to act indifferent to the view; let the other Accies think he wasn’t like the usual Mole, but after catching just a glimpse of the grand inky expanse he had been hooked.
How long had he been staring already?
Five minutes? Ten, perhaps? And that was just this morning, he spent the better part of last night looking out into the abyss as well, entranced by both its unique beauty and its grim lack of hospitality.
Who cared if the others called him a bumpkin for it? Petty insults like that would usually get his anger up to a boil, sure, but that all seemed so insignificant now that he could finally witness the stars with his own eyes.
On his home planet, far below, they would be impossible to see. Always hidden from sight by the thick clouds of dust that perpetually shrouded the skies. It had taken him years of training to be allowed to see something so many others took for granted.
Well– he wasn’t quite detached from the planet yet, but being aboard a Ring Array Lift sure was the closest he’d ever gotten. He finally managed to tear his eyes away from the window and resumed the path he was on, following the curve of the Voidlift’s central structure with the soft thudding of his padded boots on the deck accompanying him. The port smelt like stale air –recycled a thousand times over– and the slightest undertones of oil, undoubtedly originating from the dry docks where dozens of vessels were currently being serviced.
He brought a thumb up to his temple and swiped it forwards, conjuring a small holographic display projected in front of his right eye.
He took one glance at his chronometer and swiftly accelerated from his relaxed stroll to a hurried stride; he had been looking out of the window for too long, after all.
His haste was hardly out of place on the station. Ever since full mobilization was announced three days ago there’d been a lasting air of urgency everywhere Cai went, but the voidport was the busiest of them all: Administrative workers with their faces buried in holographic spreadsheets scurried through the hallways, trying to sort out a hundred-and-one logistical issues while simultaneously evading the occasional power-tool wielding group of engineers, who were trying to get the well over 300 vessels docked with the RAL-port to combat-ready status in record time.
A deafening chime blared over the claxons throughout the lift: Three ascending notes, indicating new orders from high command. The orders likely weren’t meant for him, but Cai perked his ears nonetheless. The announcer’s voice was female and it was so clear, concise and cold that Cai would’ve sworn it was a rudimentary intelligence relaying the message.
“Attention all Academic Voidcrews: By the authority of the Systemary Bondsman the 6th and 11th Sindrion defense fleets will be redeployed to Sindrion I and II. Departure time is set for 3200 hours standard. Please refer to your SO for further details. Repeat—”
Cai didn’t listen to the repeated message, instead mulling over its content. The redeployment was unexpected, but he supposed it made sense: As the system’s main producer of warships Sindrion III was the most well-defended planet of the three. Sindrion I and Sindrion II especially could certainly use the extra vessels. A smirk formed on Cai’s face: The invaders had no idea what kind of fight they were picking. It made him proud to know he was now part of the well-oiled machine that was the Sindrion Defense Armada.
Well… nearly.
The repeated message finally faded away and was followed by a chime consisting of the same three notes, this time in descending order. To Cai, such announcements really sealed the experience of being on a true military installation, it made him feel giddy, a feeling that reminded him of the times when he witnessed Academic parades back when he was little. He always promised his father that some day, he’d also be keeping all of Sindrion safe, and look at him now:
The military lift he was on was far smaller than the mass-haulers used by the miners outside. Unlike those enormous metal-hoisting structures, lifts like these only had to ferry personnel, rations and other light cargoes between the surface and the void.
Fuel, ammunition, spare parts, all those heavy things were delivered from other voidborne installations. When travel between planets becomes easy enough, those things –and those people– that don’t necessarily need to go down a gravity well never do. Similarly, those that have no need to leave their planet have slim chances of ever getting off of it.
.
Cai still couldn’t quite fathom that some Runora spent their entire lives outside a natural gravity well while others would likely never leave one.
He used to be in that latter category, which was why his heart was pounding in his chest like it was going to explode, why his limbs seemed to be full enough of energy to let him bounce through this hallway, why his chest unconsciously swelled with pride as if the Bondsman himself had given him a medal: This was a childhood dream come true.
Despite that, there were still some aspects of voidborne structures he had trouble adapting to, and one of those now came into his view.
“Crap…” He whispered under his breath. Up ahead there was a window built into the hallway floor, covering its entire 20 meter breadth and spanning over twice that in length. Nothing but a glass pane separating the Voidport’s interior from the cold vacuum outside.
Captivating as they were, Cai found it absolutely terrifying that the lift’s designers built windows into the metal box that was keeping its occupants alive. Looking out from a window in the wall was scary enough, now he was supposed to walk over one?
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
He’d been successful in avoiding these obvious deathtraps so far, though it had taken no small amount of detours. For most of his time here, Cai had steered clear of the lowest levels altogether purely so he wouldn’t have to entrust his life to a floor made out of clear sand, but this time he had no other choice. He paused and checked his surroundings, hoping to find another route, a safer one.
There was a junction in sight, leading deeper into the voidport, but the illuminated sign above it indicated that it just led to some sleeping quarters and the lifts.
As much as he loved to just wander and explore the station, he was already running late. He couldn’t afford to get lost right now.
After taking a deep breath, Cai walked up to the edge of the glass and dared a glance down, something he regretted almost instantly. His stomach turned on itself as he looked down at his planet’s surface, nearly 400 kilometers below. The electromagnetically locked rings that gave these lifts their name appeared smaller the further down he looked, shattering the illusion that the port was in a stable geosynchronous orbit, no. Magnetism was the only force keeping the entire structure from dropping like a brick.
He swallowed and looked up to the other side of the glass pane. Nearly 50 meters before he’d have solid metal under his feet again. Not for the first time, he wished for the weightlessness that usually came with being in up in the void, but the voidport wasn’t like a voidship, it wasn’t orbiting the planet: It was like a spindly, magnetic tower standing on the surface, resulting in a crispy 0,95 G at this altitude.
Two Voidsailors casually stood on the glass, discussing something amongst themselves.
One of them shot him a glance, his eyes fell on the cadet’s uniform and the spot he was hesitating at. A smirk crept onto his face as he poked his comrade and gestured at Cai. The other Voidsailor looked up in slight confusion, following the gesture. It took him a second but then he snorted as he saw what his friend had pointed out and Cai felt his face flush.
He wasn’t about to give them anything else to laugh about. He took a deep, determined breath and prepared to set foot on the transparent walkway.
“Careful there little Mole, you might plummet all the way back to Svartheim!”
The sneering callout was followed up by a push against his back, making him stumble onto the glass, but he managed to –just barely– keep his footing.
Cai made a quick turn to face his assailant, but he already knew who he’d find behind him. Sure enough, there stood the blocky bastard three years his senior.
Cadet Harlan “Bulwark” Koha was what you’d get if you combined all the stereotypes of the Academy into one person: He was strong, he was smart, his dad was filthy rich, and he loved to rub all that in your face every chance he got.
He was flanked– as always– by his two lackeys, the three of them looking down at Cai with their usual snobby grins. All four of them wore the same uniform emblazoned with the same emblem, his crewmates.
“Scared of heights, are you?” Asked Harlan teasingly. “Hate to break it to you, but you may have chosen the wrong job, surface dweller”
Jörda cackled out at that, a shrill and unpleasant sound. Her laugh always reminded Cai of a flock of poultry making a ruckus. Perhaps chicken, or rather turkey? Cai wouldn’t know, he’d never seen either bird with his own eyes. He just imagined them to sound like that.
“Good morning to you too, Harlan, Jörda, Loten. I’m impressed you managed to roll out of your bunks this early.”
Cai knew very well that picking a fight with these guys wasn’t the smart thing to do, he didn’t really care.
“With the pace you were going I could’ve slept in for another hour or two and still beat you to the briefing. I bet that without that little nudge just now you’d have been shaking in your boots at this here edge all morning.”
Cai shrugged, he hated to admit it, but Harlan did have some kind of a point.
“Sure, I’ll give you that. But now that I'm here it’s not too bad, so thanks, I guess.” With those words, he turned around and briskly marched over the glass, trying his hardest not to look down as he did.
“Aw, look at that! Our little mole is trying to look brave!” Said the lanky Loten, a born and bred Voidsailor. Cai always felt he might’ve made for a pretty decent friend, if not for his constant sucking up to their crew’s First Mate.
Cai was going to ignore him, but then the taller guy dashed past him and leapt in the air in front of Cai. His heart skipped a beat as he watched his fellow cadet kick down at the glass floor. “Crash!” The older guy yelled as he came down. He fully expected the glass to shatter, blowing him and everyone else in the corridor into the hard vacuum below.
That, of course, didn’t happen. Loten took a look at Cai’s face and burst out laughing, he was quickly joined by Harlan and Jörda, who were catching up. Cai even heard one of the professional voidsailors further up suppress a chuckle.
He quickly straightened up his face again and cursed it for letting his inner fear shine through. He felt his cheeks get red again but forced his heart to slow, fighting back the embarrassed blush.
“Real mature Loten, yeah." He said in annoyance. He didn’t really want to escalate the situation any further, but his anger was slowly but surely pushing that restraint aside.
“I do remember something about you making planetfall on Three, didn’t you empty your stomach the second you saw an open sky for the first time? Filled up most of your helmet, didn’t it?”
Loten’s self-satisfied smirk was quickly wiped off his face and he angrily pressed his index finger into Cai’s chest, but Cai held his ground.
“You don’t get to try and humiliate me with things you didn’t see for yourself, get that?”
“Hah, let him bark as he likes, that twerp wasn’t even part of the program back then, he’s just repeating the stories Maxin told him.” Said Harlan, who wrapped an arm around Loten’s shoulder. It was an awkward gesture, given that Loten was so much taller than the First Mate.
Loten slowly retracted his finger and seemed to calm down a little, Harlan shot one last disdainful look at Cai and turned around to continue on his way. Cai knew he should take this opportunity to let them walk away and let things stand as they were. He could also make matters worse.
Easiest choice he ever made.
“You’re absolutely right Harlan, I wasn’t part of the Academy back then… but isn’t that the worst part for you?” He shouted after them. His fellow cadets froze in their tracks, giving him the opportunity to continue.
“Weren’t you chastised by your daddy because it took you five whole years to get here while a filthy little surface mole did it in under two?”
Harlan turned around, the lines of his face setting into a rapidly building fit of anger. He stepped closer, daring Cai to speak again.
Cai’s face twisted into a mocking grin and, against better judgment, he decided to stoke the fire a little hotter.
“Bet the regent of Atema was really happy to hear his prodigal son was getting outclassed by a kid from Svartheim’s labor districts. Don’t blame him, to be honest. I’d be pretty mad too. I mean, for all the money he put into raising you you’d expect–”
Cai was rudely interrupted by a burly fist hitting him square in the jaw. His vision went white, his ears started ringing and a flash of intense pain hit him a split second after the punch did. It felt as if a massive gong had been rung and knocked out all his senses.
He was so dulled by the impact that he didn’t notice he was falling right up until the back of his head slammed against the glass floor, sending another wave of pain through his skull.
Harlan said something to him but the droning in his ears turned every word into a vague blur. The excited cheering of Jörda and Loten wasn’t making things any clearer. It was probably something along the lines of: “Stay down unless you’re hungry for another.”
Yeah, such unimaginative crap is exactly what Harlan would say, but that didn’t take away that Cai’s appetite for sucker punches had indeed been sated.
He groaned and sat up, feeling dizzy like he’d never been. The warm, coppery tang of his own blood flash-flooded his mouth and he felt that two of his teeth had been smashed out of their sockets.
He didn’t spit them out; he swallowed them. His body could use the calcium to speed up the regrowing process.
He slowly got back on his feet, a little unsteady at first, but the mind-numbing pain was starting to fade. His pupils contracted again, bringing the walking brick that was Harlan back into focus.
The older cadet was looking down at him dismissively. He clearly thought the fight was over, Cai smirked. He was gonna love the feeling of giving that spoiled idiot a taste of his own medicine. The fact that he was not hungry for another fist meeting up with his face just meant he had to dodge the next one: “Not a problem now that I’m ready for it.” He thought to himself.
He put his fists up and took a fighting stance, drawing a surprised frown from Harlan. The First Mate followed suit after a few seconds. Jörda and Loten were starting to look a little more concerned now that the fight had turned into something more serious and even the two Voidsailors moved in to intervene.
They were all too late, Cai threw the first punch this time. Where Harlan might have had the benefit of raw strength, Cai was quick as water. There was no way his opponent could hope to evade or even block him.
Except he did, Harlan’s body moved down faster than Cai had believed possible and his fist went completely wide. His eyes widened in shock as he tried to cancel out his own momentum, but he’d put too much energy in that one attack: He was wide open for the counter that would undoubtedly follow.
It came even quicker than he had anticipated: a kick to the gut powerful enough to knock the wind out of him sent him to the floor for the second time in less than sixty seconds.
“When did Harlan become athletic enough to kick like that?” He thought, whimpering softly as his lungs worked desperately to get his air supply back on track.
He could hardly believe Harlan had been hiding something like that; he never showed speed or kicks at their physical combat training. Maybe he’d underestimated that snob after all.
Someone entered his field of view. Even with his blurry vision, Cai could see the figure’s hair was so blonde that it appeared almost white against the black- and gray ceiling of the voidport.
A pained grunt that sounded like it was made by Harlan was the final piece Cai needed to solve the puzzle:
Harlan hadn’t dodged him at all, nor had he been the one to kick him, no.
The two fighters had both been taken down by someone else.
"Hey Veriss–” Cai began, but after one glare from the team commander he wisely cut himself off: She was furious, and that was far scarier than the glass floor that had started this whole mess could ever hope to be.