Between Stars and Order (Part 1)

Special Guest Story by Orchid Constance

It took several moments for Jane to pull herself away from the window. Anyone with half a brain knew that the seventh sector of the ninth district was the best view in the Andromeda Galaxy. They would only be here for a few hours at most, and Jane wanted to be sure she saw her fill. And then, they’d be in the Milky Way. It hardly felt real, just as the past few weeks had felt.

Stars dotted the dark sky, and a deep magenta nebula could be seen in the far, far distance. Anywhere else it would just seem like a dot. Jane often wondered what it would be like to fly through a nebula. Her mother had, or so her letter said, and supposedly it had been the best experience she had ever had.

Jane had never met her mother. No one had unless they were four hundred years old, which hardly anyone was. Sentimental mothers were permitted a letter when handing off their child, but never a picture. Jane had heard of some mothers sneaking a picture through patterns in the words and margins forming a drawn face when you looked at it from the right angle. 

Children were raised in a Nursery shuttle, and raised by a few specially trained nurses and numerous nurse bots. They were raised alongside two hundred other children, usually forty of each age group. Here they went through basic schooling and the safest exploration available. They were raised this way until they were twelve, in which they would then wait for the next shipment train and ride it to one of its many destinations. They were handed a small tablet that listed each of the stops, when they took place, and if they were accepting apprentices.

Jane remembered the shipment train well. She was in a small pod near the back of the trail of small ships, with only a small cot in the cramped room of her own, much different than the far more comfortable rooms on the Nursery shuttle. The room was smelly, and filled with many other children she didn’t recognize. She had a few of her friends with her, but they all left to chase their futures far earlier than Jane had.

Jane wanted to explore and discover, just as her mother had. She wanted to fly to the deepest parts of unexplored space. She wanted to find the next planet sustainable to life, and maybe even meet the first discovered sentient aliens. However, the only exploration ship accepting new apprentices was near the edge of Andromeda, four months away by the shipment train, which was undesirably slow and had many, many stops.

It was far less than ideal, but Jane took on the wait. She spent a large portion of her time in her cot, which she moved to beside a window the moment the spot had become unoccupied. She had arm-wrestled a boy for it. She had won, and he instead took the spot beside her, and they became fast friends.

The boy’s name was Jack, and he wanted to be an explorer, too. Well, Jack actually didn’t know what he wanted to be, so Jane chose for him. “You want to be a pilot on the Adventurer, where I’m going to be a biologist.”

Jack had thought a moment, his blue eyes narrowing slightly with concentration, before breaking into a grin. “You know what? I think I do.”

The four months hadn’t been so bad at all with Jack by her side. They had explored every nook and cranny of the spacecraft, much to the annoyance of the crew. Their favorite spot had been on top of the shipment crates. They were in a pressurized room with a glass dome that allowed sector guards to take a quick scan of each shipment, rather than having to spend the time to enter the ship and manually check each crate. 

The dome allowed the two to watch the sky at an angle difficult to see from a normal window. Most ships flew at a standardized angle and path. Most of these paths were physically unmarked, but the ships were usually programmed with the correct angle. It prevented anyone from ramming their vessel into the bottom of another, but it also meant that most people rarely saw many angles of space other than to their left or right.

Some days the two of them drew. Jack loved drawing, and he was really good at it. He would doodle all over the crates in black marker, on angles no one would see them until they were unloaded. Jane mostly just scribbled stick figures break dancing. Other days they would point out constellations, and make up their own. Most days, though, after long weeks of waiting for their turn to step off onto their chosen ship and create a life for themselves, the two dreamers would simply lie down and talk. They talked about themselves, about their Nurseries, about their plans. Jane learned a lot about Jack in those days.

She learned that Jack hadn’t gotten a letter from his mother, and didn’t mind where she was, or what she was doing right now, or any of the other things Jane was constantly thinking about. He said his life was his own now, and thinking about other people he would never know was beyond useless.

“But what if she’s thinking about you? Wouldn’t you feel bad if she cared for you but you never did for her?”

Jack thought about this for a long while. He tended to think a lot. Whenever he did it was completely silent, as though the entire universe was waiting for his answer. “Nah.” It was like the universe exhaled, and rolled back to life. Machines whirred, the obnoxiously loud engine rumbled like a cat purring, and bots went about doing what they could to keep the place in shape. After another pause, this time shorter, Jack continued. “I don’t think she ever cared for me, anyway. I mean, if she had, wouldn’t she have written a letter?”

Jane didn’t have much to say in response to this, but she was determined to stay optimistic. “Maybe she was illiterate!” She blurted.

Jack barked a boyish laugh. “No one’s illiterate anymore! Nurseries make sure of it!”

“Not all Nurseries are nice. You saw Corbin, that boy from a few weeks ago. He could barely read, let alone have any kind of decent manners!” She ignored Jack’s laughs and continued. “Besides, maybe she could write, but it would have been too hard for her. That’s happened before, one of the nurses at my Nursery told me so.”

Jack really thought about that one. He thought about it so long that the universe stayed quiet for the rest of the day. Even everyone in their room was silent, like students waiting for their teacher to give a lecture. In the morning, Jack greeted Jane with a simple “good morning,” and the world sprang back to life.

“Good morning,” Jane had responded. “We’re almost there.”

“Almost,” Jack agreed with a nod of his head and a grin on his face.

“Maybe they’ll take us to the Milky Way,” Jane remarked dreamily.

“And risk getting sucked into the black hole at the center? No way!”

“But maybe the gravitational differences have sparked new life on some of the planets!” Jane rambled excitedly.

Jack just blinked at her. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

Jane tried not to pout. “It sort of makes sense.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Just a few more days, then we won’t share a room anymore and I can finally get you and your crazy ideas out of my hair,” he teased.

The intercom rang for breakfast. Jack and Jane made their way to the front of the pod, where a small bot held dark swirling bread. It was stale and blander than the cardboard its consistency so reminded Jane of, just like most food on the supply train.

While they ate, Jane and Jack had excitedly made their guesses on where they would first be traveling after they became apprentices. They swiftly finished the meek meal and made their way to their usual spot. They talked for a while, as they usually did. Jane pointed out a green-colored star she’d never noticed before. The intercom rang for lunch, but they both knew that they could just eat it later. One of the other kids usually left it for them on their cots, and it was usually bland and lukewarm to begin with, so there wasn’t much reason to eat it right away.

In another hour or so, Jack was doodling rather insulting images on one of the shipment crates when alarms suddenly blared.

“Jack,” Jane said in a panicked voice, “we should probably get back to our pod.”

“Just a second, I’m almost done with this drawing. It’s probably just a drill, anyway,” Jack said dismissively.

Jane rolled her eyes, but anxiety crept into her gut.

“Done,” Jack said after a moment, standing back in the small space to admire his downright offensive work. “Let’s go.”

He climbed up onto the shipment crate and offered his hand to pull Jane up. The alarms were quieter now since they were connected to the bots, which were now leaving for their storage rooms. 

Jane was brushing dust off her shirt when a small “woah” escaped Jack. She looked up.

All around the glass dome was red webbing.

“Lasers! Cool!” Jack remarked in a boyish tone.

“Why would the higher defenses be up on a drill?” The unease in Jane’s gut grew.

Jack thought, but nothing went quiet this time. A loud clank shook the shipment crates. And then everything went silent. Jack gasped and pointed to the glass. “Jane,” His voice was panicked, his posture stiff. Jane looked. “Oh, crud.” was all she was able to say.

The rest of the train was detached from the shipment crate.

Panic flooded over Jane. It was hard to breathe, and her head swam. And then she felt Jack’s hand on hers, squeezing lightly, comforting her. She took a few deep breaths and assessed the situation.

“We have oxygen in here, and it’s pressurized. That’s what mainly matters right now,” she noted.

“Some of these crates are bound to have some kind of food,” Jack added encouragingly.

No more alarms could be heard. They were the only ones in the shipment cart. The lights dimmed, and the red web over the dome shone more brightly. They were drifting from the rest of the shipment train. They just sat there silently for a moment, both deep in thought.

“Why did we detach?” Jane asked

“Maybe there was a virus they had to get rid of?” Jack supplemented.

“Then why all the defenses?”

But Jack didn’t answer. They were both too busy looking out the dome with wide, fearful eyes.

A ship rose from underneath the shipment cart. It was large and dark, with clean, shimmering metal. A giant skull with stars for eyes was painted on each side.

“Pirates,” they both breathed.

It was quiet for a long moment.

Jane yelped as the laser defenses faltered a moment before dropping completely. He focused on the comfort of Jack’s hand holding hers tightly, her heart swelling with relief that he was here with her in this frightening moment. Jack muttered something to her about staying brave, and that everything was gonna be alright, but Jane was too occupied watching the bottom of the pirate ship open, drawing in the now defenseless supply train cart with some kind of gravitational force. Or maybe it was magnetic. That kind of thing wasn’t really Jane’s expertise.

Jane felt Jack’s hand tighten to the point of pain around her hand as they neared the ship, and she noticed thin beads of nervous sweat dripping down his supposedly calm face. Jane could feel his quick pulse over her hand. He was panicked, too.

They rose into the ship like krill to the whale’s deep maw. The interior was bright, with bluish light surrounding them. All they could see from the dome window was lights over a bright white domed ceiling. Jane’s stomach finally dropped when she heard the loud clank of the closing door, trapping them in the ship.

It was quiet again for a long few minutes.

Any second now, pirates are gonna break in, see us, and shoot us with laser guns or something. We need to hide. Yet, her legs failed her. Fight or flight? No; her body had so conveniently chosen freeze. Jack was silent, so everything was silent. And then he finally stood up, pulling Jane to her feet. “We should hide.”

It was probably useless. But useless was better than dead. Jack pulled Jane into a small, hidden nook between two crates. Offensive doodles covered the walls of the crates. Now, for the safety of them both, Jane hoped the pirates never found the drawings. Any hope they had of surviving as space slaves would be dashed.

A fwsss of escaping pressure sounded as the door to the cart opened. The soft taps of boots pattered on the ground. It sounded like multiple people, probably two.

A small beep echoed around the room as someone scanned the crate’s labels. “Thank goodness, these are the right crates. Glitch’s sensors were working correctly for once.” The voice was slightly high-pitched, yet unmistakably a man’s.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” The feminine pixelated voice had a slightly nasally accent and rang from the intercom of the cart. Jane almost gasped. Was it an AI? Usually, AI was extremely difficult to obtain, let alone to keep.

(“I see you’ve already made yourself at home,” the man’s voice grumbled, probably referring to the fact that it had already gotten into the storage cart’s intercom system.)

“If that’s true, there are also multiple lifeforms in here.” A low voice, also female, this one more authoritative. “Tread with caution.”

Jane tensed, trying to keep her breathing quiet. The boots stepped closer and closer to where Jane and Jack were hidden. They both slummed a bit down and held each other close, trying to make themselves as small as physically possible.

But, apparently, not small enough.

Because now a tall Polynesian woman with curved features stood over them, a dark eyebrow raised. “Well, well, well. Now, what do we have here?”

A young man with fair skin and a head of half-pulled back curly auburn hair stepped towards her, a sleek pistol in hand. “What is it, Cap?” He turned his head and saw them, his eyes widening. “By the hunter’s belt!” He exclaimed.

“It seems we have a coupl’a stowaways, Char.” The Polynesian woman crossed her arms, leaning back. She had dark hair pulled into a bun. Her skin was a soft ebony, and a dark tattoo of the constellation Scorpio ran down her right arm, which was strange, considering that most people identified by the Andromeda zodiac now that the Milky Way was destroying itself. She wore loose blue jeans that reached down to her claves, and a mauve tee-shirt. To top it all off was a thin black vest over her shirt, the same skull emblem embroidered on its large pocket

“They’re wearing uniforms. Must be fresh out of the Nursery,” the man, Char, said, lowering his pistol and gesturing at their loose jumpsuits; Jack’s navy blue, Jane’s mauve purple.

That pixelated voice rang over the intercom again. “Not so fresh. The identification bar sewn on the front of the girl’s jumpsuit reveals that Jane’s been on this supply train for six days from four months.” Jane’s eyes widened. Not only was this AI smart, it was fast.

The woman nodded with interest. “Well, I’m not one to kill children. How ‘bout you, Char?”

Char put away the pistol, grumbling something about just staying on the safe side. The woman held out her hand to the children. 

Jack shrunk from it, but Jane swallowed her fear and gripped her warm fingers, pulling Jack up along with her. The woman smiled wide and warmly, dimples spreading across her cheeks. “Jane, was it?” Jane nodded, letting her hand go.

“The boy’s name is Jacob,” the AI said.

“Jack,” he corrected in a hushed voice.

“Right. Now, what were the two of you doing in a stolen supply train car? Did you not hear the alarms?” The woman leaned against a crate, eying with interest at the drawings it was covered in. Jane was pretty sure she heard Jack squeak with fear.

“We thought they were a drill,” Jane admitted nervously.

“What do we do? It’s not like we can just send them back. We’re at top speed flying to the Milky Way.” Char had various piercings down his ear, and a flesh tunnel in the lobe. His hair was darker at the roots, but it seemed naturally so.
The pair were obviously pirates.

“Well, there isn’t much else we can do but take ‘em with us.” The woman turned back to Jane and Jack with a wide smile. “Welcome aboard the Void Lurker.”

“Glitch named it,” Char grumbled.

The voice rang again on the speakers. “It’s better than – what was it you wanted? – The Butt Whooper?”

Char flushed. “It makes sense! We’re pirates, for Pisces’ sake!”

Jack addressed the woman in a timid voice. “Uhm, excuse me, but we have to start our apprenticeship soon if we want to get approved. I know you must be on a tight schedule and all, but-”

“Sorry, but we can’t do that at this time,” the woman said sympathetically. “We have to get this shipment to Ayven. Lots of people are counting on us.”

“Two-hundred-forty-seven, to be exact.” The voice rang from the speakers.

“Crap. That’s two more than an hour ago. Glitch, can we go any faster?”

The speakers fuzzed a moment, then answered. “Not unless we want to run out of fuel before we get to Ayven.”

The woman sighed. She eyed the kids. “Alright, I suppose you two are hungry?”

“We just had lunch, actually,” Jane lied. She was actually famished, but the last thing she wanted to do was bother any potentially short-tempered pirates.

The woman snorted. “Don’t give me that. Supply trains barely feed their Nursery kids. Four months on a fraction of what your diet should be? You two must be starved! Follow me.” And without another word, she turned and began to walk away.

“Glitch,” Char said, “Have eight of our most reliable bots move the crates into our supply chamber. Then, release the train cart and slightly change our course. It’ll make it harder to track us.”

“Of course.” Glitch responded from the intercom as they stepped out of the cart.

Jane didn’t know what to think as the pirates led them through the ship. It was nicer than Jane would have expected, and seemed to consist of a small but seemingly optimistic crew, who smiled and waved at them as they passed.

“I’m assumin’ you kids have never met a pirate before,” the woman said. “We’re not all like this, but you can certainly rely on my crew. I’m Aditya, by the way. We can take you back to the closest supply train as soon as we get this medicine to our family.”

Family? The word was foreign to Jane. The Authoritarian Council of Andromeda Leadership, or more commonly called Andromeda Council, or even just so ‘the Council’, had done away with any unneeded familial nonsense. Spouses were the only sort of family known in Andromeda. Any children were willingly handed over to the Council, who placed them accordingly in Nurseries. Parents paid the amount they could to send their child to the nicest Nursery possible. The only thing Jane had of her family was the letter her mother had written to her when she handed her off to the Nursery.

So what did Aditya mean by family? They were heading towards the supposedly abandoned Milky Way. Did that mean that there were people in the Milky Way, continuing life in its inferior, ancient state?”

Aditya led them to a large, open room, with one wall being a large window. A table sat in the middle of the room, filled with snacky, convenient food that Jane had rarely eaten in her Nursery.

Perhaps the most notable feature in the room, though, was a low-to-the-floor desk, with cords and wires laid about the surface, and a single, rounded computer monitor partially hiding the mass behind it.

It took Jane a moment to understand what she was looking at. As her eyes adjusted to the bluish light of the figure, she saw that it was in fact the holographic form of a relatively short woman. The woman’s eyes, covered partially with heart-shaped glasses, never left her screen. She wore a simple tee-shirt under a cropped jacket, and her hair was tied back into a low ponytail. She sat cross-legged on a bright, round pad on the floor, which Jane assumed was where the holograph was originating from.

Jane subconsciously took a step closer to get a better look. “Mind the cords.” Glitch’s voice sounded from a speaker on the desk, and the holograph’s mouth opened and closed rather robotically along with the words. The AI sounded annoyed.

“Don’t mind her, Glitch. The girl’s just curious,” Aditya spoke smoothly. Glitch sounded a sort of hmph, but her holographic avatar never looked up from her monitor. From where Jane now stood, she could see that Glitch was typing furiously on a touchpad keyboard, which curiously responded to her touch.

This is some seriously advanced tech, Jane noted to herself with interest.

Jack seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Where’d you guys get such a smart AI?”

Char grinned. “It’s more like she got us.” Despite their strange bickering, it seemed the Char was actually quite fond of Glitch, and for a moment he forgot his hesitation. “She was the AI produced by a small independent team I used to work for. She was going to be auctioned off to the highest bidders, and we were positive the Council would take her. She decided that she didn’t want to slave for a corrupt government, so she had me move her drive to my laptop (which broke because of it… grumble grumble…), and run. Aditya found us and tried to steal Glitch to sell in order to pay for her own ship. Glitch here promised a ship and more, and the rest is history.”

Jane’s head whirled. They had called the Council corrupt. Just that could get them into prison for life! “So… You have an AI as your captain?”

Char laughed. “Thank the twins, no! Aditya is our captain. Glitch handles the technical stuff.”

“I could be captain if I wanted to. I just felt bad for you two.” Glitch piped in. Char rolled his eyes.

Aditya urged them all to sit down. While they snacked on strange greasy chips, the pirate captain explained in more depth why they couldn’t take the two kids back right away. “We have a deadly illness goin’ around on our planet.”

Jack perked up, nearly choking on his chips. “You live on a planet?”

Char sighed exasperatedly and shook his head. “Aditya, are you sure we should be telling these Andromedan kids all of this? We did just kidnap them. What if they report us? We already have a large enough bounty on our backs as it is.”

Aditya raised an eyebrow and smirked at Jane and Jack, her teeth shining in the light. They seemed to Jane like fangs, even though they weren’t. “Nah, they won’t tattle. Will ya, kids?”

Jane and Jack both vigorously shook their heads, hair on end. Aditya guffawed.

“See? They’re harmless. Besides, it’ll be an adventure!” Adventure? Jane had to admit, she liked the sound of that. “Anyway, as I was sayin’. A few explorers found a planet that didn’t need much terraformin’. They set base there, and it’s grown to a sort of community of outlaws.”

Jane gasped. “Does the Council know about it?”

She shook her head. “It’s in the Milky Way. Outside of their jurisdiction. No one of power goes there anymore unless it means big money. Which it rarely does.” She winked. “Don’t worry. The “big bad” black holes ain’t anywhere near Ayven. You’re as safe as can be.”

Jack and Jane both let out a breath no one knew they were holding. Char snorted.

“It will take an estimated fourteen-hundred-twelve years before Ayven even begins to get swallowed by the Milky Way’s largest and nearest black hole.”

Char nodded. “Plus, the star we orbit is still relatively young, so it’s not likely to collapse in on itself any time soon.”

“Then why did humanity make the move to the Andromeda Galaxy?” Jane asked.

“Fear factor,” Char answered, munching on a carrot stick. “The Council gets what they want that way.”

“No way,” Jack laughed, “the Council is protecting us. They’ve figured out the best way of life.”

Aditya raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Best way of life, eh? Then why are we forced to give up our children? Why is a fraction of our civilization homeless on planets not fit for living on, farmin’ malnutritious crops and living in cramped shacks?”

What? “I didn’t know that,” Jane said solemnly.

“I was told that there were home shuttles for those who couldn’t be apprenticed.” Jack spoke quietly. Jane had been sent to a fairly nice Nursery. She had grown up knowing that nearly every door would be opened to her. She looked at Jack with a worried expression. What kind of Nursery had he grown up in? Did he have the same kind of opportunities as she did?

After they had finished snacking, Char led them to their room. It was small and had a bunk bed as its only furnishing, but to Jack and Jane it seemed like a five-star suite in a luxury vacay cruise ship.

“Aditya insisted you two get a window.” Char hmphed. “I don’t have a window.” He eyed the two of them warily. “Look, we may be a lot nicer than other people in our line of work, but we won’t hesitate to take down a threat. Just so you know.” He stepped out of the room. “Restroom’s third door on the left. Breakfast’s at 7.” He nodded towards a small digital clock on the wall.

And with those particularly comforting partings, he closed the door with a light fwss.

Jane immediately jumped up onto the top bunk. Jack scoffed in complaint. “No way! You got the better bed last time!”

Jane chuckled smugly, rolling up her sleeve and flexing her arm. “Wanna arm-wrestle for it?”

Jack groaned, sitting down on his own bunk below. “Well, at least I’m closer to the window this time.”

Jane hadn’t thought about that. She had to crane her neck to see the window from her bed. But she was too stressed to mind. She dropped into her bed, which to her felt soft as clouds. At least, she thought they did. Her mother had written that phrase in her letter. But no one had even seen clouds for several hundred years. Jane started, and frantically reached into her pocket. Empty. Panicking, she reached into her other. She was met with the familiar crinkle on paper on her fingertips.

Jane pulled out her mother’s letter. She started to read, but barely got to the third line before a comforting darkness pulled her under.