July 9th, 2486 - Frontier Space - Imperial Stealth Ship ‘Pelican J-42’

‘Come in Pelican J-42 … do you read me Pelican J-42, over?’

‘This is pilot Jonkosa Voltun aboard Pelican J-42, what the hell is it now, over?’

‘I just think your eyes look gorgeous in this light, over.’

‘Oh, shut up Galarah. Turn on the camera if you’re brave enough, stop flirting through the radio like a coward—over.’

The Pelican, designation J-42, was an A-Class Imperial Stealth Ship. It floated through frontier space, amidst a sea of glittering stars. The planet below was mostly blue, splattered with tiny patches of orange and purple.

‘Seriously—any sign of whatever caused that mysterious heat signature, over?’

‘Negative, they’ve got us chasing ghosts out here … we’re just passing Haaloja-2’s moon, over.’

The radio was silent for a moment, then it crackled back into life.

‘Pelican J-42 … are you sure there’s a moon there? … Over.’

The moon was small, black against the cosmos, but clearly there.

‘No doubt, over … Galarah, what’s wrong?’

‘Pelican J-42 … Haaloja-2 doesn’t have a moon ... over.’

‘Then what the hell am I looking at?’

January 21st, 2482 - Planet Goldagar - Ashfield Province - The Mar Kolla Private Residence

‘Are you sure that’s what you want?’ Lena Mar Kolla asked her daughter.

Olivia bowed her head, clutching tightly to the hems of her cornflower blue dress, and stared with determination at her expensive shoes.

‘I … I have given it a lot of thought mother, and I … have already enlisted.’ She replied, pouting nervously. The expansive room was flooded with light by the large windows which overlooked Goldagar’s vineyards. The sun warmed the brightly coloured carpets and purple coloured tapestries. It was warm all year round in the Ashfield Province. Olivia felt hands on her shoulders; cold fingers, shaking with age.

‘Look at me, Olivia.’

She did. Her mother’s eyes were grey as steel. Her brow was weathered, and furrowed. Still, there was an undeniable kindness in those eyes, and the brow softened as much as it could.

‘Olivia’, Lena continued, breaking out into a smile. ‘I will tell you what I told your brothers, when they left home. Do whatever makes you feel fulfilled. I’ll worry, of course … but I know you’ll succeed at whatever you try your hand at. Just Promise me one thing: that you’ll always stay true to yourself. You are just, and decent. I know that you will make the right decisions for you. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.’

July 10th, 2486 - The Imperial Flagship ‘The Phoenix’

‘Get out Olivia! Akira Choganta spat. ‘I’ve already told you—you have no aptitude for the Mystik Arts. You’ll only hamper his highness’s progress. He doesn’t need distractions right now.’

Olivia’s heart sank. Yared stopped in the middle of a rep, and stood up. They locked eyes for a moment, but just as Yared was about to open his mouth, Olivia cleared her throat.

‘I’ll be in my room if you need me, your highness’, she said. She was professional. Her voice retained a monotone, matter of fact drawl. She was used to the verbal abuse by now. Turning on her heel, she left the gym. She could feel Akira’s gaze on her back.

*

‘That was unnecessarily harsh Mr. Choganta’, Yared said with a sigh.

Akira glowered at the young prince, and crossed the empty gym to face him. He was several inches taller than his royal highness, and several inches beefier. Life as Head of Security aboard the Phoenix hadn’t left him any leaner than when he was Finaly Var Oostabar Gan Kuji’s personal bodyguard. Yared’s mind wandered to his father … the Emperor. The old man was getting on. At one-hundred-and-twelve years of age, his time on the galaxy’s throne was very nearly at an end. Akira snapped his fingers, and brought Yared back to the present.

‘No time for distractions, your highness’, Akira warned. ‘The hunt isn‘t over yet. You told me that you had an idea … some means of developing your Mystik Art further. Your energy is still red … it should be blue by now. Something is stopping you from reaching your full potential.’

For a moment Yared was silent, and then he said, reluctantly, ‘Mr. Choganta … I need to feel rage. I have lived my life in a bubble, it seems, and it’s putting me at a disadvantage in combat … I don’t hate my enemies. I see them the way a hunter sees a rabbit … and a hunter can’t hate a rabbit.’

Akira laughed.

‘Imagine this scenario, your highness’, he said. ‘Imagine that you are all alone in the wilderness, with no food and no shelter, on some alien world … and the only thing you can find to hunt is a rabbit. If you don’t kill it, you’ll starve. If that rabbit keeps eluding you, keeps breaking free of your traps … it can feel like the beast is mocking you. Trust me, Akira; you can learn to hate a beast who mocks you…’

July 10th, 2486 - Long Distance Cruiser ‘The Sparrow’

The Sparrow, as it had been renamed, was old. It was a D-class (by modern standards) long distance cruiser model, at least thirty years old, and It moved like a thirty year old ship; a journey that would take a modern cruiser a day to complete, would take the Sparrow two. Nevertheless, Ichiro, Angora, Chara and Pazzik had learned that day what true love looked like. Abiona was smitten with the ship. She had checked every room within twenty-four hours of boarding, regardless of whether passengers were using them or not. Chara had thrown at least three pillows at her before she felt her bedroom. Angora had cut himself while shaving when she suddenly popped out of the bathtub, fully clothed.

The ship had a large common room with a round table at its centre, from which the cockpit, four bedrooms and two bathrooms complete with showers and bathtubs, and a large recreational room, could be reached. The common room doubled as a kitchen, and the rec-room came equipped with a bar, still stocked with whisky that Pazzik and Ichiro had already begun to help themselves to. There was even space enough in the engine room to hide loot, the kind that a Space Pirate’s vessel would have… and there was, in fact, plenty of loot in there. Hundreds of old coins, pieces of spiked armour and defunct weaponry, lay in heaps around the aging engine. Whenever Abiona wasn’t lounging in the rec-room, or fiddling around in the cockpit, she was in the engine room, carefully analysing the loot. At this time, she was in the common room with the rest of her companions, sat at the table and discussing their next course of action.

‘We’re facing a powerful threat … and it’ll only get tougher’, Pazzik said. ‘Yared will only get stronger after this encounter… and that Akira Choganta character worries me. We should focus on improving our Mystik Arts.’

‘Ichiro and Angora are going to save me’, Abiona said, nodding her head. ‘When I’m ready to return to the Phoneix, I’ll make up a story about how Ichiro and Angora saved me from … terrorists or rebels or something. It’ll clear their names and get Angora a shiny medal, if he wants it.’

‘I don’t want any Imperial medals’, Angora chimed in gruffly, dabbing the cut on his cheek with a scrap of tissue paper.

‘What’s keeping you from going back now?’ Chara asked Abiona, resting her head on her hand.

‘I need to see the frontier, at least’, Abiona said. ‘I’ve seen a colony planet—that’s Bungirba … and we saw Sanctuary, in the middle. I need to see one of the frontier worlds… places where the long arm of the law only technically reaches … we don’t have a very clear picture of what life is like out there. If I’m going to rule the galaxy, I need to find out how it operates when the populace aren’t on their best behaviour—it’s hard to do that on a throne.’

‘Might I suggest a planet?’ Pazzik offered. ‘Haaloja-2 is a frontier world … where the last temples devoted to the Mystik Arts can be found. It’s the current home of my race, the Haalojans. It’s only a few days away from our present location.’

‘What have we got to lose?’ Ichiro said with a sigh.

‘Only our lives’, Chara replied.