We really are a different race, she thought, casting her eyes down.
It was a pleasant exhaustion that enveloped her after pushing a ship to her absolute limits. The vessel zoomed from Delktu’s day half to its night half. The shrill light of the sun of Vorlash that she’d felt underfoot fell away, along with the reflected light she’d felt overhead. Yet as always, the whispering of the distant stars filled her frocragh. It was a quiet, quiet world out there.
If I were able to weave through the stars like this at infinite acceleration, just how good would that feel? If she could continue accelerating indefinitely, space would continually shrink as she eventually approached the speed of light. She’d be able to zip through the insides of countless stars.
Alas, that dream was not to be. At near-light speed, the stress applied by the hydrogen atoms floating through the vast gaps between celestial bodies would stop being negligible, and the ship would burn blazing hot. Besides, the wee vessel’s energy would expend itself far before it ever reached the speeds necessary to experience relativistic contraction.
Why do I feel so drawn to the stars? she wondered. It was a common Abh desire to soar through 3-space at near-light speed. This enticement was referred to as “starlust.” Typically, Abhs who grew weary of living were prone to it. Some even went ahead with it, and few among them ever returned from their starlust jaunt.
Lafier was happy. Or at least, she figured she was.
“Oh,” she realized, muttering. “I’m stressed.”
A light and easy tune played in the steering room. It was her wristgear announcing the time had come. She snapped to, raised altitude, and aimed for the spaceport. An intrastellar ship was just departing from said spaceport. She reduced thrust and flew side-by-side with it.
She called Jint using her wristgear.
“’Sup, Lafier,” said Jint, his voice a little strange.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
“Yeah, a bit. Actually, more than a bit. My head’s pounding.”
“That’s unusual. Are you sick?”
“I’m something like being sick, I guess. It’s a hangover. It’s not something you Abhs-by-birth will ever have to worry about, but I assure you, there are all sorts who are well-acquainted with hangovers.”
“We may not get hangovers, but we do at least know about them,” she replied, miffed. At the same time, she was confused: “Why don’t you take some medicine for it? Surely it’s not something you have no choice but to let pass? I’ve heard the sensation is quite off-putting.”
“Oh, totally. It feels terrible.”
“Then why?”
“They’re banned here. Sober-uppers.”
“Really? What an odd law.”
“They’re under the impression that if they don’t ban them, people will just gulp them down without restraint. Plus, they think that people ought to suffer the consequences for what they do to their bodies. Though it’s a different story when lives are on the line.”
“Might you be aboard a ship at the moment?” she asked, as she perceived a ferry shuttle sailing a mere ten saidagh away with her frocragh. According to a prior message, Jint was supposed to be in transit.
“Yep, I am.”
“That law is a law of the landworld, is it not?”
“Yeah. The landworld administration passed it.”
“Then I don’t think you need to pay it any mind anymore. The laws of a landworld administration don’t extend to ship interiors. Or do they?”
“They don’t, but I used to be a Delktunian, too. So I end up in a weird headspace where I feel like punishing myself.”
“I see. Are you suffering a great deal?”
“You have no idea.”
“In that case, while my stroll was set to last a little while longer, I’ll return to the Manor a bit earlier than I’d scheduled.”
“Your stroll? Are you flying right now?”
“Yep. Right next to the ship you’re on.”
“Oh, there you are. At least, I can see something shiny.”
“That’s me, most likely. Don’t take any medicine until we meet.”
“You’re a cruel one sometimes, you know that?”
“Didn’t you say you were punishing yourself?”
“Showing you how I’m in such a sorry state doesn’t count.”
“Don’t say that. You know, you’re so—”
“Wait, something’s up...” Jint’s voice took a serious tinge. “It’s an emergency communication.”
Lafier, too, felt something alarming. Her frocragh was picking up the phosphorescent orb that was the Vorlash Portal, from which a small ship had appeared. It was a conveyance ship, the model widely used by the Star Forces. One was supposed to be loaded aboard the Baucbiruch, but it was difficult to distinguish between individual conveyance ships using just her frocragh, given that they were mass-produced.
“Lafier,” said Jint, his voice normal — he’d taken the medicine.
“Is there some kind of problem?”
“Looks like it. The Baucbiruch came under attack.”
“Oh...” Lafier screwed her eyes shut and steeped her whole self into the murmurs of the stars. Suddenly, she felt as though the languid flow of time was glimmering.
Chapter 5: Glamsaïhoth (Crest Bestowal Ceremony)
After the inspection, servicing, and repairs that followed their familiarization voyages, the twelve raid ships formed a single column, flying in the vicinity of the star of Abliar. At the head of the pack was the Raichaicec doriac (Commandant’s ship), the Lymcaubh. Just because the Commandant was aboard the Lymcaubh did not make it the flagship. The reason behind this confusing appellation was that Trample-Blitz Squadron 1 had yet to be officially established.
The Flicaubh, Sobash’s ship, was second in line, flying behind the Lymcaubh. Eventually, a patrol ship approached the line of raid ships. It was the Glagac Glagalacr (Star Forces Flagship) and the Rüéreurh (Imperial Empress’s Ship), the Gaftnochec.
The Gafnochec was of great ceremonial significance, but that was not all. If the imperial capital ever threatened to become a warzone, then the Empress would board
