Walking up the Hellhound's ramp is a bittersweet emotion. I want to be excited. I'm finally going to fly, but I can't get the image of Great Grandpa's small smile out of my mind. Window said it was a peaceful death, but what does that even mean? Can a death ever be peaceful?

"You getting on or what? Thought we were in a hurry."

Violet's sarcastic tone snaps me out of my reverie, and I step into the assault shuttle proper, looking around curiously. The room beyond is broad, a row of benches running along the flanks of the ship with another row down the middle, straps dangling at regular intervals. Everything's scuffed and slightly marred, worn down by the touch of who knows how many bodies. The ramp retracts behind me, sliding itself neatly into the shuttle, and the aperture irises shut. I follow Violet along the room and through another hatch leading forwards, her dog turning to glare at me occasionally as it trots at her heels.

The next room is much smaller, the bulk of its open space taken up by a pair of wide seats covered in switches and panels, the far side covered in what looks like glass, giving an unobstructed view of the forest clearing outside. Strange writing covers various segments on the wall, like nothing I've ever seen before.

Whoops. Forgot to initialize the written translator. One second.

The symbols swirl and then transform into letters I'm used to. Most of the sentences are either incomprehensible warnings or incomprehensible technical jargon. Violet plops down in the left seat, her dog jumping into her lap. I continue gazing around, marveling at the oddity of it all.

"You're going to want to sit down, otherwise takeoff's gonna be a real kick in the ass."

I follow her instructions, sinking into the comfortable chair. The surface shifts beneath me, and I almost jump up, but it stops after a few squirming seconds, perfectly molded to my body's contours. It feels like what I imagine sitting in a cloud must be. I examine the various buttons and levers.

"How... does it work?"

Violet laughs.

"What, the seat? It's adaptahyde. Shit's everywhere."

Just once, I want an answer about the world outside to make sense.

You're missing a lot of context, Sky. Five thousand years worth.

"I don't care about the seat. How does this ship work? How does it fly?"

A series of belts snakes over my shoulders and hips, snugging me tight against the forgiving chair. This time I do try to leap up, but the restraints are unyielding. I glance at Violet, my heart racing, and she laughs again, the same straps covering her, her dog shifting into a better position on her lap to avoid them.

"Relax, dirt-eater. Assault shuttles aren't big enough to carry inertial dampers. The safety harnesses make sure we don't go bouncing around the cockpit if shit hits the impeller. Once you get that down, maybe we'll talk about the gravitics."

I narrow my eyes as a deep thrum vibrates the shuttle.

"What did you call me?"

She chuckles, but there's a nasty edge beneath it.

"What, 'dirt-eater?' It's slang. Means we're best friends. Don't worry about it."

A weight presses down on my chest and the clearing slips away beneath us, the shuttle rising up through the trees. Crimson leaves give way to a brief flash of green overcanopy and then we're climbing higher and higher, defying gravity's pull. I want to scream in delight, cheer wildly, do something with the conflicting emotions pulling me every which way, but there's something more important to take care of first.

"Hey, Violet."

"Yeah?"

"Did you enjoy the breakfast scramble?"

She looks at me with the barest trace of confusion.

"Was a little cold, but yeah. It was good. You'll have to give me the printer recipe."

"I'm glad." I wait a beat, the sky expanding around us. "Everything in it was harvested from the ground. Here. On Earth."

She stares at me, eyes growing wider and wider, dark brows matching our ascent.

"You... I... that's..."

The shuttle abruptly drops, forward view tilting towards rolling foothills, the dog launching off her lap at me with teeth bared only to be met with an inky paw that slaps it back towards the entrance hatch in a blurring motion, the rest of Pete emerging in stutter-stop steps across my twisting shadow.

finally. playtime

A cacophony of mayhem erupts behind our chairs, and I can't help myself, even as the ground below grows closer and my stomach rises uncomfortably into my chest. I snarl at her.

"How's it feel to be a dirt-eater?"

This will end in tears. I don't know why you thought we could trust her. I don't know why anyone thought this would work. We're going to crash and die.

...for a given value of 'death' as it relates to us, obviously, but Sky, this is counterproductive. What about your plan to save the village?

The shuttle continues its plunging descent, Violet mouthing soundless words of horror. I manifest a limb and poke her in the chest, acknowledging Box's feedback. I feel curiously light, like I'm falling and flying at the same time.

"Box says I'll survive this. You probably won't. Want to call me names again? Or are we going to fly?"

Violet's been through a lot. That's obvious from her breakdown with Stove, her inability to trust us with who she is, her constant lies. Her raw avarice at hearing what MacWillie could offer her with our trees. Her prickly nature that tries to hide the hurt filling her mind.

Great Grandpa Axe is dead. I want to trust Violet, believe that we can work together, but if she can't trust me, if she sees me the same way those Marauders saw Wires, as just another dirt-eater keeping them from what they want, then I'll gladly see her dead in the ground now, because at least that way I'll still have a chance at protecting the village when Box brings me back. There's enough time to run Huckens and MacWillie to Fishhook. I'll make enough time.

...the timing is tight, but theoretically doable. I would once again like to advise against-

Violet's eyes sharpen, Pete and the dog rolling up against the forward viewsection in a hissing ball of snapping fur, and the world outside my storm-tossed infonet room is engulfed in pure obliteration. The storm rages but I'm safe in my chair, blanket draping my front, watching inimical forces beat futilely against the unbreakable windows of my incomprehension.

I return my focus to what I can affect. One of my limbs manifests my new blade beneath Violet's chin, the other stabbing through the melee to pin her dog against the clear glass with our memetic shotgun. I try not to let my anger show, Pete's tails lashing spectrally through the walls as it crouches in midair, heterochromatic eyes blazing.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

"I don't," I try not to yell, "want to fight with you! I want us to care for each other, because that's what people do! Why are you making this so hard?!"

She glares at me furiously.

"You're just trying to control me too! You and your... your stupid, unbelievable village! Did you really think I was going to trust you and the rest of those idiots after one day?"

I pause, my anger momentarily derailed.

"Why wouldn't you trust the Idiots? They're in charge of protecting everyone. I'm an Idiot."

Violet gawps, bereft of words, and the forces lashing my room ease.

...bleargh, now that was a scramble. Sky. We're going to crash.

I look towards the clear front of the cockpit, past the dog futilely gnawing at my shotgun barrel. Yeah. Those are individual bushes. I turn back to Violet.

"We're going to crash. I'd rather not. I want to get to know you. I'm an Idiot."

"...you're an idiot."

"...I am now. I used to be a Memoriam."

She chuckles hoarsely, throat pulsing against my blade, and our view of the too-close ground skews into a dirt-churned maelstrom, a giant's foot pressing down on my body, rattling impacts peppering the shuttle with gunshot cracks until everything clears and we're once again daring the sky. I let my limbs return to whatever part of reality it is they occupy when I'm not thinking about them. Violet's dog leaps into her lap, nosing frantically at her face, and her arms wrap around it.

I look over at Pete, still crouched in midair, and my cat flips its tails up at me while showing its butt.

naptime

"...thanks, Pete."

"...did you really mean that?"

Violet's voice is quiet, muffled by the dog pressed up against her.

"Mean what?"

"That you care? About me?"

"Of course. You're another person, another human being. If we don't care about each other, then the village falls apart."

"But I'm not from your village."

"So? You might eventually be. 'None of us thought to know each other until the end of the world required us to change. Our differences gave us strength, and our love for each other the power to endure.'"

"What's that from? Sounds like a quote."

"The Tale of Beginnings. The little ones always get bored when Great Grandpa reads that part. It's about the founding of the village."

I fall silent as my brain catches up with my words. He won't read that part ever again. I try to force the grief down, but a tendril escapes. I dash away the tears quickly, hoping Violet didn't notice.

"...what's it like?"

I look over at her, but she's still holding the dog tight, obscuring her face.

"What's what like?"

"Having your family care for you?"

"It's..."

I try to think of a way to encapsulate a welter of emotions. Of steady hands, picking me up after a running fall. Of smiling cheer, laughing at a newly discovered book, urging me to find another. Of quiet evenings, sitting in front of a fire, silently comfortable with each other's company.

Words of measured patience, guiding me after risky choices. Blankets tucked over my shoulders, a half-felt presence on cold nights. The taste of novel food combinations, glowbeast and shimmerfruit initially sharp on my tongue.

Running through the trees and waving to people who wave back. Gathering together for feasts beneath a gently glowing canopy. Exploring interesting places with a friend.

Feeling part of something bigger.

"It's something everyone should have."

"...I don't know what that feels like."

"I'm sorry."

We sit in silence for a while, the mountains growing closer in the view outside the shuttle. They look small from up here, different - a strange perspective I'm not sure how to resolve. A mountain shouldn't be encompassed by a single person's sight.

"...the gravitics provide initial liftoff and landing power, but the plasma engine does the bulk of the work. It generates thrust, which causes the wings to provide lift. Cuts down on reality venting. I'm using Corg- my integrator to bypass the biometric security so I can pilot. I have over five thousand hours in Super Space Adventure Time and the controls are a one to one match."

"...what?"

"You asked how the shuttle flies. That's how."

"...I wish I knew what any of that meant."

"Looks like we're both depressed about something."

I snort in amusement, unable to help myself. I don't want to minimize Violet's pain, but I did sound exactly like her. I glance over, intending to apologize, but her own lips are crinkled up in a tiny smile, the dog panting on her lap.

"You know," she continues, "there's nothing stopping me from leaving once I drop you off."

"I know. I hope you won't. Stove would be sad. I would too."

"I'll... we'll see. There's the cruiser wreckage."

Fishhook quickly grows larger in front of us, our shuttle swooping from its airy perch. The wreckage of the ship is still there, pinned to the shattered mountain's peak in eerie defiance of gravity.

"How did you know where to go?"

"Pulled the information from your datanode and cross-referenced it with scans from the Blackbeard."

"...okay."

"You didn't understand a word of that either."

"Nope. I'd like to. Someday. Box says it'll take a long time for me to learn how to use the infonet."

"I couldn't imagine not having the net. Not now that I can finally explore it."

Her voice is wistful, then turns angry.

"Now that I'm actually free. From them."

I'm not sure anything I can say will make her feel better, so I hold my tongue. I'm not Stove, and I don't want to risk making Violet feel worse. The ruined ship increases in size until it's covering most of the view, and then it holds at a steady distance, the shuttle coming to a halt. We're definitely more than a couple hundred scrumbles away-

83.7 meters

-but it's tough to tell. Violet tsks, then turns to me.

"So what's your plan? If I get any closer, whatever's in there is going to start taking notice of the venting from our gravitics. The sensors are picking up a heavy dose of reality leakage. Anchor bubble is about four hundred meters in diameter."

"Uhm, I was going to shoot everything that tried to kill me and find the parts. Then I was going to come back to the shuttle."

"That's your plan? That's not even the outline of a plan. How have you survived this long?"

"Box does most of the fighting."

She shakes her head.

"Look, assuming I decide to stick around, you need better plans. Here." Sunshine illuminates a small package outside my storm-tossed infonet room. "I had the Blackbeard run a scan of the interior. Those are the schematics. There are also some integrators still registering in there - if you can get close, I'll spoof them so they think you have command privileges. You can use them to help clear your way to the anchor."

I am not opening any datanode she sends us! Who knows what kind of corrupting things are in there?

"Didn't Violet already mess with your mind before, Box? More than once? Why would she need to hide if she wanted to do it again?"

...you are a very frustrating person sometimes, Sky. Fine. What could possibly go wrong... huh. There's nothing wrong with it.

"Box says 'thank you,'" I tell Violet, and she rolls her eyes.

"I know what it said. Nevermind. I'll drop you at the closest entrance to the anchor. It's right over there."

A part of the hull starts fuzzing strangely, as if it's trying to glow green while at the same time remaining unchanging. I wince, rubbing at my head.

"Ow. Can you not do that, please? It gives me a headache."

She messed with me again! How dare she!

"Just checking to see if you were still immune," she says with a sly smile. The blurring anomaly snaps away, along with my seat straps. "Go set up in the drop room. I don't know if anything's going to come after the shuttle, so we're going in hot. As soon as you see the floor open, jump."

I stand up and extend my hand, then halt, fingers halfway to her shoulder. I don't know if she's okay with me giving her the same friendly touch I'd give Rifle, or Dirt, or MacWillie. It awkwardly hangs there until she eventually smacks it down.

"Just go, okay?"

I look at her and the dog, wondering if this will be the last time I ever see them.

"You'll be safe in here, right?"

She regards me inscrutably, emotions flashing across her face too fast to identify. Eventually she settles on a sigh.

"Yeah. I'll be fine. Go clear out that anchor and I'll swing back around to pick you up when it's safe."

"Thanks, Violet."

I hurry into the long drop room and take a seat, more straps rising up and around to secure me. This time I don't flinch as much. Her voice echoes from the cockpit.

"And here we go. In three... two... one..."

There's a quick surge of acceleration and then the floor twists opens, light reflecting off the mottled ship skin below, grotesque turrets bulging up like tumors. The straps around me whip back into the shuttle bench.

"Go go go!"

I leap through the opening without a second thought, limbs manifesting as I fall.