Chapter Text
Within Canis Minor, upon the lone habitable planet in the Luyten system, a permet mine caved. To anyone who lived near the area, it was a long time coming. Nu Mercury’s settlements were modest, filled with the rotting dreams of people lured by work. In recent times, the once booming rush of permet had slowed to a trickle. There was nothing but the dying gasps of miners too poor to leave. And the callous hand of the corporation that wrung them dry.
The mine had been in disrepair for an age—older than many of the laborers within. When it finally caved, dozens were trapped in the rubble. A lone arm, sun-scarred and spindly, broke the surface. Nails dug at dark grit and Mercurian stone. Slowly, a young girl worked herself free. She crawled from the collapse, brow and hands bloodied. After pausing to gasp greedily at the fresh air, the girl turned back. Frantically, she pawed at crumpled rocks. Her small frame heaved against immovable sediment.
An unknowable epoch passed as she toiled beneath the red sun. Then another person arrived. The girl paused when she heard them speak.
“Keep digging and you’ll join them.” It sounded like a woman, her voice calm and pleasant as rainwater. Slowly, the girl chanced a look. Tall and lean with a shag of scarlet hair—this wasn’t anyone she recognized. Mirrored goggles and a bandanna shielded the person’s features. "Seen many a collapse in my day. Without machinery, they're as good as lost. Flesh and bone won’t leverage those rocks.”
“I-I have to try…” the girl said. She coughed, tasting rust and dirt. “They must be so frightened.”
“If you’re not crushed fast, it’s a slow end,” the woman agreed. “Suffocation in the dark, like drowning. Be thankful you’re not with them. You have a name?”
The girl shook her head, knees tucked to her chest. She wiped her face. “The others called me twelve. They’re all I have… had.”
“You from the orphanage?” the stranger asked. The girl nodded hesitantly. “Heard the corp bought several up for labor. Shame I couldn’t arrive sooner.”
The words drew a perplexed noise from the girl. “...Who are you, ma’am?”
“The new owner of this permet mine.” The woman lowered the covering from her face. Her grin was humorless. “Came to shut it down. Veins were thin back when I worked these rocks, and shafts were caving regularly. Didn’t have the funds to do anything then. Now, the inevitable happened.”
“I don’t know what to do.” The girl curled around herself. She sniffed, breathing hard when the woman approached. She flinched, something cold grazing her face. A canteen glinted beneath the crimson sun. The girl’s eyes fixed where it connected with a metallic arm.
“You could stay,” the stranger said. “Dig them free or die in the toil of it. You can bury those corpses good and proper, yet nothing will change. You won’t gain a thing.”
The girl took the canteen, gulping its contents. The water was clean and cold—the finest she had ever known. The stranger knelt, frame shielding the prone girl from the harsh sun. Closer now, she noted the woman’s lack of dirt and odor. All the mine overseers had a persistent stench. The hand of her prosthetic was layered in a flesh-colored glove; the rest were cords of gleaming steel.
“Lost my pound of flesh to this mine years ago. Then I left and met someone kind enough to take a chance on a mangled orphan. She gave me this arm, and so much more.” The woman’s hand fisted in the air. “You gain more by moving forward than standing still. Had I stayed, I’d have met my end in that cavern.”
The girl watched her raptly. “How do I move, ma’am?”
She blinked as that pristine hand combed the rubble from her hair. It was darker than the woman’s strands; drab with filth and sweat. The same burning color but lesser. Everything about this shining stranger presented a future the girl wanted for herself.
“You can’t touch the stars by simply wishing it. You need to reach out and take them.” The goggles were lowered, revealing an intent stare. The color was reminiscent of the fluctuating lights that appeared on the darkest Mercurian nights. “Will you stay, or take them with me?”
The woman unfurled her fingers and waited. The girl, nameless but for an assigned number, seized the offered palm with both hands.
—∅—
A-line to Proxima Centuari. Suletta swallowed, tugging her cap lower. The star station was crowded, and more than one passerby eyed her warily. The ticket teller seemed to share their disdain as he stared at her expectantly from behind tempered glass. The unfriendly rigor of his face deepened the longer she hesitated.
I’m certain it was A-line… wasn’t it? Suletta gave the teller a tremulous smile as he tapped his fingers impatiently. Sweat trailed down to soak her ratty collar. Or was it B-line? Suletta took a calming breath. She knew from experience that stress would make her nerves worse, and possibly draw unwanted interest. Attention straying, she caught a snippet of the transaction beside her. It was a plain-dressed lady the same as her, pleading with the teller.
“—I’m sorry, but I can’t make exceptions. You’re a thousand short.”
“I sold everything for this trip. The cost was lower before!”
“The interstellar tax raised recently, ma’am. I don’t control the fare, just enforce it.”
Suletta leapt as someone coughed impatiently behind her. A stolen glance illuminated the growing line of well-dressed people all glowering at her back. Reluctantly, she concentrated on the disgruntled teller behind the glass.
“A-A line, please!” Suletta forced a halting smile. The teller looked at her flatly.
“If you’re looking for a ticket to the colonies, it’s the F and G lines.”
“Um, no. I was told Proxima…” At the skeptical frown she received, Suletta slowly clarified. She toyed with her hands anxiously with each word. “I have an interview with, um, Burion? They’re hiring engineers.”
“It’s 25,000 legal tender per ticket.” The man analyzed her frame in an unpleasant sweep. “Trinkets and dust aren’t viable currencies here.”
“M-My current employer said everything is on this chip visa.” Suletta scrambled for the cold metal in her jacket. She slid it across the counter demurely. “And… we have a corporate discount?”
The teller’s face pulled, but he inserted the chip nonetheless. Surprise wiped away his derision. “Shin Sei Development, bronze-tier. You work for Benerit?”
Suletta laughed uneasily. “Um, nepotism...?”
The teller accepted the limp explanation without complaint. He typed something on his screen before waving her away. “Your identity is registered. 20,000 was deducted from your account. Seat 15b; don’t forget it.”
“Thank you, sir.” As the chip slid her way, Suletta overheard the woman beside her become increasingly undone. She sounded on the verge of tears, furiously begging the station teller to reconsider. “If… If it’s allowed, could you transfer my remaining funds to the lady beside me?”
The man’s brow arched beneath his fringe. “That’s five thousand Centauri.”
“Then that’s more than enough.” Suletta paused, considering something. “Oh, but… she’s not on the same line, right?”
She smiled as the man shook his head, looking increasingly perplexed. Suletta shouldered her bag, adjusting her cap. “She needs it more than me. You never know when they’ll raise the rates again.”
Suletta bustled away before the teller could respond. She was running behind schedule and wasted enough time fretting at the counter. Chuchu would not be pleased if she missed the shuttle train. Imagining her ire hastened Suletta’s pace.
She weaved through the dense crowd, ducking within as the shuttle doors snapped shut. Inside, glossy panels screened the station and a multitude of stars encasing them. The stark luminescence of the interstellar rings painted the shuttle in a muted, orange glow. Suletta avoided the stray looks directed her way.
She paused at a screen, feigning interest in the permet well currently flooding the looming rings with vital power. Discreetly, she placed her handbook against the screen. It chimed once. Not this car then. Suletta pressed onward, gaze trained on the device in her palm. The car attendant caught her eye, and she sent a shy grin in response. They didn’t pay her heed after that.
Her handbook chimed twice as Suletta entered the dining car—thrice upon passing the cabins. The shuttle vibrated beneath her feet as artificial gravity clashed with permet-fueled energy. Tugging the bill of her cap lower, she halted beside the entrance to the last car. The screen covering the shuttle’s rear airlock flickered. Suletta held her breath as she pressed her handbook to the secured door. It chirped in five rapid pulses. Then the airlock jaws opened, granting passage to a fully suited figure.
“Cutting it close,” Chuchu groused impatiently from the helmet. “I would’ve been atomized when this train hit lightspeed.”
Suletta shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry, Ms. Chuchu. I couldn’t remember whether it was A or B-line. I got it right eventually!”
“Oh, good. Comforting to know I nearly became grilled paste on a coin flip.” Chuchu tugged off the helmet, shaking out her cottony hair. Her scowl was exasperated. “Whatever. And I told you—ain’t no one’s Ms. I have the heat here. Sure you got the nerve? This ain’t your usual gig.”
“I won’t let you or our captain down,” Suletta said firmly. She tugged off the cap. Dark, nondescript strands shifted to crimson. A bandanna was tied around her nose and mouth. The handbook obscured her features in a feed, but a physical disguise still went far. “What do you think, Chuchu? Like the captain in those old recordings!”
“Only you would watch security feeds like they’re classic films.” The shorter woman snorted before tossing a beam pistol her way. “Hope this is worth our time. I’m tired of diced soy and radish for every meal.”
“Mr. Till does his best.”
“Hey—cool it with the names. Remember, we’re on a job.” Chuchu knelt, whipping out a tablet. It emitted a high-pitched whir. “We’re still a distance from a communication dead zone. Once the shuttle train comes out from its first light-jump, we cut the power.”
“Understood.” Suletta inspected the pistol before holstering it in her waistband. A glance at the screen's feed revealed the twisting blur of stars beyond. The artificial gravity kept them steady as the shuttle hurtled through space—from the Hadar outpost to Proxima Centauri, the jewel of the Benerit group. Interstellar travel wasn’t common, even among the higher class. Only the obscenely wealthy and corporate suits could secure passage without flinching.
The momentary terror they might feel was nothing compared to the suffering of those in need. Suletta pitied these people, but she refused to consider it for long. To gain meant moving forward. Her captain taught her that. She braced herself against the wall as Chuchu fiddled with her tablet.
“...EMP readied. Listen close, we grab only the hard valuables. Things we can easily hock frontier-side. Credits are useless outside Benerit space. Then we make for the emergency skiff. We’ll need to be fast before they move this clunker and their comms return.” Chuchu’s expression was severe when the device chimed. Upon its face, a timer counted downward rapidly. “Now.”
One moment there was stark light and the faint drone of a generator, and the next there was a blanket of darkness. The backup lights flickered on, but the distinctive sound of star-traversing energy had ceased. The shuttle sputtered to a drifting standstill.
Chuchu grinned, features lit dimly. “Time to shake down these Proxi suits.”
Suletta didn’t quite share her enthusiasm. They weren’t free yet, and anything could happen. As the captain once said, the show wasn’t over until the curtain fell. She bit her tongue, priming her pistol as she followed Chuchu’s lead. Her role was to play the intimidating muscle behind her crewmate’s bravado. She hoped they couldn't tell it was her first time.
“Listen up Prox—this is a robbery!” Chuchu threw the adjoining car open mightily. Her brash voice echoed across the shuttle. Stocky arms aimed the beam pistol amid the crowd. “Be cool, or my friend and I will start roasting skulls.”
It was a baseless threat—Suletta had never known Chuchu to harm civilians—but the ample spite in her voice gave it weight. Despite the danger, the seated crowd remained calm. Unnaturally so. Then, the shuttle car erupted into chaos as beams whizzed above their head. Suletta ducked aside reflexively. She heard Chuchu frantically curse and return fire.
“Shit! We’ve been made.” Chuchu caught her eye amid the scattered shots. “Screw this. Head for the skiff.”
Suletta tried to respond, halting when a man stood and clapped. The beam fire paused. He was dressed in a brown uniform that looked vaguely familiar.
“Chuatury Panlunch, gunner aboard the Aerial. 50,000 Centauri.” stated the man. He glanced behind Chuchu to meet Suletta’s gaze. A shock of garish pink stained the center of his hair. “I don’t know your accomplice, but I’m certain she’s another fringe mutt. Where’s Mercury?”
To her credit, Chuchu didn’t balk. “You think she wastes her time on petty jobs? Captain ain’t here, pig.”
The man’s brow twitched. “Inspector. Reveal her location along with the rest of your crew and I’ll guarantee a plea deal. Deny me, and you serve double.”
“All you’re getting out of me is a mouth full of heat.” Chuchu waggled her pistol. Suletta prepared to react as Chuchu’s free hand tapped covertly on her tablet. “You’re lucky I have better things to do than talk to corpo hogs.”
She slid the device across the floor. It flickered before a piercing light flooded the shuttle as the gravity cut. Taken aback, the armed force reeled for their bearings. Suletta used the distraction to hurtle forward, her boot finding the inspector’s abdomen. The man jettisoned against the wall with a thud, spittle trailing in his wake. She heard Chuchu’s smug laughter after they sealed the shuttle car.
“Quick thinking, junior. Think that pig pissed himself back there.” Chuchu snorted derisively as they pushed to the skiff. Navigating the shuttle train was hasty without gravity tethering them. Suletta exhaled in relief when they found the rear hatch. The emergency skiff was a compact, rickety thing. Hopefully, they’d escape without a firefight.
“Was it me...?” Suletta muttered as they slipped into the vehicle. She frowned, downcast, taking the pilot’s seat. “I tried not to be conspicuous. I'm sorry, Chuchu."
“Relax. It could have been anything. Proxi authorities have been cracking down on all the outposts lately.” A hearty thump against her head followed the words. “Put on a helmet. I don’t trust this bucket to remain in one piece.”
In hindsight, it was obvious their escape would be just as eventful. Nothing about the job had gone as planned. And the skiff—with its creaking switches, threadbare seats, and flashing service light—inspired little confidence. When the fuel gauge shrieked in protest, forcing them to find shelter in a drifting derelict, Suletta wasn’t surprised.
She clambered from the cockpit, smiling sheepishly at Chuchu. The other woman was in a lather, kicking the skiff’s panels with unbridled fury. Suletta shared her unease. Anyone would panic when lost amid unknown stars.
“It could be worse,” Suletta commented, aiming to placate. Chuchu stared at her incredulously.
“Worse than being stranded in a dead zone with the inspectors on our tail?"
“Um.” When phrased so neatly, maybe it couldn’t be worse. Suletta took a moment to think. “Well, the skiff could’ve imploded. And we found this ship, so that’s lucky. Drifting through space forever sounds awfully dull. We’d run out of things to talk about.”
“Suletta…” Chuchu pinched the bridge of her nose. “Your moronic optimism is amazing, but give me a minute to absorb how utterly screwed we are.”
“Not utterly.” Suletta drank in their surroundings. The ship that drifted across their path was fairly substantial. She couldn’t place the make, but it appeared to be military. While not fully powered, the ship still carried enough energy for light and oxygen. Perhaps it was abandoned recently. “I believe we found a retired dreadnought. Ship like this might have an older comm system—not reliant on Benerit stations. If so, we could send a message for Aerial.”
“That’s… not a bad idea.” Chuchu blinked at her, impressed. “Captain teach you that?”
Suletta mussed her hair bashfully at the praise. “She used to read ship dossiers to me before bed; learned about every model released in the last century.”
“Huh. I always forget you’ve been with Cap the longest. You act like such a starry-eyed kid around her.” Chuchu began walking, shining a light down the empty hangar. Suletta tripped after her.
“I was one when we met.” She smiled fondly, recalling that fateful day. “I owe her so much. That’s why I wanted to come along. To prove I can pull my weight.”
“You pull plenty,” Chuchu denied. “Now focus up. Do you see the engine room anywhere? I doubt the comms will work without juice.”
“On a ship this size, one will be located towards the stern. The other might be below the bridge.”
“We should split then. If one doesn’t work, the other might.” Chuchu sighed heavily. The woman sounded more concerned than she would ever admit. Despite her expressed positivity, Suletta couldn’t say worry was beyond her. However, they had experienced dire straits before. And the captain always managed to steal them from certain doom. Suletta clung to that hope as she scoured the empty stern.
Upon closer inspection, there didn’t seem to be any discernible cause for the ship’s abandonment. It lacked signs of struggle or glaring structural flaws. When Suletta stumbled across the mess, no signs of previous occupation were present. It simply appeared the ship’s crew had vanished... or was never there in the first place. Her disquiet deepened as she strolled through the dark corridors.
Then, Suletta stumbled upon an area that elicited pause. Pillars of black metal loomed, an audible hum emanating from within. Reams of coiled steel and wires spiraled from the ceiling. She nearly mistook it for the engine room, but the machinery seemed too localized. What lay amid the center garnered immense curiosity.
It was a coffin—or a pod in the appearance of one. Suletta padded closer hesitantly. The face was made of opaque glass; contents obscured by darkness. Was this vessel a mausoleum? It would explain the lack of supplies and personnel. An extravagant waste too, but the captain often said the rich were eccentric.
Slowly, Suletta rapped her knuckles against the pod’s face. Nothing. She traced the cool metal idly, eyes catching upon the words etched into the corner. Mio...rine. She couldn’t determine whether that was a name or the manufacturer. Suletta squinted at the glass, moving nearer. Concentrating, she could discern a faint silhouette.
There was something inside—a slender shape draped by white cloth. Or was that hair? She placed a palm atop its surface. The room’s light flickered before increasing in intensity. Suletta blinked at the luminescent flood. Before she could ponder the reason for this change, the pod opened and cracked against her face. Suletta yelped, collapsing into an agonized heap. Black spots flickered across her vision as she clutched her nose. From the warm liquid pooling into her palm, it was likely fractured.
Blearily, she was aware of something hovering above her prone frame. Suletta blinked at it through a curtain of tears. Then it flitted away. She stared inertly as alarms snarled throughout the metal chamber. The throbbing pain in her shattered nose became secondary as fascination took its place. Later, she would ask the captain if you could mold a person from starlight.
“Suletta... can you hear me?”
She jolted as Chuchu’s strained voice rumbled intermittently from the intercom.
“—can find the bridge...Whole ship came alive...drifting from the...Dominicus!”
The last word encouraged Suletta to her feet. She didn’t need to hear anything else to understand they were in hot water. Why and how Benerit’s elite tracked them was inconsequential. Suletta spared a lingering glance at the metal coffin before heading for the bridge. She found Chuchu fiddling with a console beside the helm.
“Pissing fuck,” she heard the gunner grit out. “All this over a shuttle jacking?!”
“Chuchu—” Suletta winced as she heard a weighty thunk followed by a stream of cursing. Chuchu crawled from beneath the console, furiously rubbing her head.
“Announce yourself next time!” Despite the complaint, she seemed relieved. It didn’t last as Suletta neared. “Dominicus fighters arrived as soon as this derelict started moving. Tried to steer us away from them, but the damn helm is locked. This whole thing reeks of a snare!”
“But… how could they know we’d find this ship?” Suletta asked. The situation was strange, and everything alluded to a complex trap. However, the sequence of events was far too coincidental.
“I don’t know how cops think!” Chuchu threw up her arms. “The deck is going to be infested with those bastards soon. We should hunker down. Maybe we can overtake one of their cruisers if we’re lucky.”
“If they’re boarding…” Suletta stiffened briefly. Without a moment’s hesitation, she rushed back whence she came.
“Suletta, the hell are you—” Chuchu’s shout was drowned as the ship lurched and trembled. The hostiles were bombarding them. Suletta clung to the walls, flitting down into the vessel’s bowels. She might not know who that person was or why they were locked on an empty ship, but no one deserved to die alone in the choking dark.
The captain had saved her from that fate. It was Suletta’s turn to offer a helping hand.
...Dahlia. The word echoed since she woke, as soft and sweet as a song. What did it mean? The floor was cold, stinging the pads of her feet. Each step was sluggish, her body heavy and rigid. Her location was unknown, as was her reason for being here. Inhospitable metal encased her, each turn leading into an endless maze. What was this place?
All she could recall was that word; Dahlia. Was it her name? As with every question she held, it remained unanswered. There had been another. It was possible they held the knowledge she sought. But fear had consumed her when she saw that awful color. It seeped into her mind, rattling the skull; like everything in her would shatter if she stared too long. Fleeing from the cause was an instinctive reaction she couldn’t subdue. Returning to that person was impossible now.
The ground below her shook, stealing her footing. She stumbled, heart skipping. Everything she experienced seemed so alien. If only there was something familiar to anchor her. Yet any memory was buried and distant. Then a firm shout caught her ear. She looked sharply toward the noise, spotting the red stranger.
And once again, she instinctively fled before a thought could solidify. The stranger followed in fierce pursuit. If they meant her harm, she would not be easy prey. Amid twisting bends and barren metal corridors, she ran. Not once did she glance at the red figure. Whatever they wanted was not worth knowing.
Abruptly, she stumbled upon a dead-end. The stranger cornered her, indistinct and tall in the hazy light. Her lungs screamed, taxed from exertion. Stiff with fright, she huddled against the wall. The stranger stepped ever nearer. She flinched when they spoke.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The apology took her aback, as did the soothing cadence of their voice. “Is this your ship? My friend and I stumbled upon it by chance. Do… Do you understand me?”
She concentrated on the words, pulse slowing. Then she nodded hesitantly.
“That’s good!” The stranger appeared to be a woman. It was frustrating she couldn’t compare whether younger or older. Young people didn’t have white hair, did they? “My name is Suletta Mercury. Though, it wasn’t always. I was an orphan when the captain took me in. I have plenty of family now—like our ship. She’s my sister.”
She stared at the stranger, fear erased by bafflement. Was this woman insane? Perhaps outward aggression would be less alarming. She eyed Suletta warily.
“Is it alright if I move closer? I swear, I mean you no harm.”
After weighing the risk for a time, she nodded again. Suletta knelt beside her. In the scant illumination, that crimson hair was less vivid. The nagging desire to shut her eyes and flee gradually drained. While broad of shoulder and tall, Suletta’s features weren’t intimidating up close. Friendly eyes peered at her from beneath rounded brows. Were they blue or green? She had trouble discerning.
“What’s your name?” Suletta asked. The question elicited a flinch. She, who was disarrayed and unknown, had nothing to give in exchange. Dahlia… Could that be the answer? Yet it didn’t feel true. Suletta seemed to sense her conflict.
“Um, there was something written on your pod. Miorine.”
A sense of certainty overwhelmed as the name was spoken. Miorine. That was her. Anything else could be discovered later. For now, a piece of her identity was restored. Miorine glanced up at the woman’s face.
“Yes,” she croaked. Miorine swallowed, throat dry. “That’s... my name. I can’t recall more than that.”
“Really?” Suletta craned her head. She appeared genuinely concerned on Miorine's behalf. “We could search that room I found you in—Wait, there’s no time! It ain’t safe here.”
The ground shook below them, punctuating the statement. Miorine shrank away, breathing elevated. Her fear grew at the distant shriek of metal.
“I don’t know where to go,” she said faintly. “How can I move without knowing?”
Suletta’s gaze remained steady. “Ms. Miorine, I was also lost and alone once. That's why I wanted to find you. I may not have the answers, but we can gain them by moving forward.”
Miorine blinked as the woman offered a hand. Her skin was darker, either natural or bronzed by sunlight.
“Will you stay, or find them with me?” The question was posed with soothing certainty. Miorine slowly clasped the woman’s fingers. Suletta’s palm was large; safe and level as her smile. Everything was still a vast unknown, but there was hope. For the first time since waking, she had an anchor.
Upon an infamous starship, a captain dreamt. At first, they were bittersweet nothings half made of memory and other parts fantasy. A wizened doctor with mismatched eyes, seeing so much yet missing the important bits. A dark-skinned man with an easy grin, wedding band twinkling. Disconnected from the tragedy that stole them. Ghosts who refused to cease their haunting.
“—om…”
The scene changed, as did she. Older now, but none too wiser. Just harder and brittle, like a piece of leather set too long to dry. Pain mingled with yawning grief. But hope too, in between blinks. Whispering privately of second chances and new beginnings, until that too faded away. They never tell you the agony of losing your future a second time.
“Mom.”
Elnora stirred reluctantly. It took her a moment to recall who and where she was. The sill of her viewport wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep.
“Fifteen minutes,” she said roughly. "Mom needs her rest. Latest mark gave me the runaround. Have Suletta steer us home.”
“Suletta ain’t here.” Exasperation colored the statement. “Chuchu took her on an errand before you returned.”
“Irritating, but not pressing. I’ll scold them later.”
A heavy pause followed. It wasn’t like Eri to cede so easily.
“The Snow White’s signal reappeared.”
Elnora opened her eyes. She sat up, reaching for her discarded pistol. “Inform Mr. Haimano to man the helm. Send Ms. Nanuara to refuel the Tempest. I’m leaving immediately.”
“What about Suletta?”
“I don’t believe in coincidences.” Captain Prospera donned her visor, thoughts scattered among the stars. “Smoke inevitably leads to fire.”
Danger wasn’t a stranger to her. Even before joining the captain, Suletta knew terror and uncertainty. One didn’t survive a frontier world without adapting. It was a quality she shared with the woman who saved her. A pirate traversing untamed space had to persevere through adversity.
When the ship beneath them trembled, Suletta’s nerve held fast. She steadied her footing, swallowing her panic. Everything around them sounded as if it would tear asunder. The star-colored woman she found, Miorine, blanched with wide eyes. Suletta wasn't certain if she was naturally fair or fear had leeched her complexion.
Miorine followed without comment as they made for the bridge. Her hand shook within Suletta’s grip. Her confusion must be immense if she truly couldn't recall a thing. A siege on a stranded vessel was a harrowing experience for anyone to weather. Suletta held her tighter, hoping to provide much-needed comfort.
The light was greater on the upper decks. Suletta released an anxious breath, glad to be rid of the dark. She flashed Miorine a smile, but the woman halted suddenly. She stiffened, eyes shut and head turned away. Worried, Suletta stopped as well.
“Are you okay, Ms. Miorine?” Upon cursory inspection, nothing appeared amiss. Miorine shook her head, free hand against her brow.
“It’s your hair.” At Suletta’s uncomprehending look, the woman made an agitated noise. She appeared abashed for whatever reason. “The color. Red. When I look at it… everything in me recoils. I can’t explain it.”
Suletta considered before fishing out her stowed cap. She rucked it over tangled strands. Miorine peeked at her uncertainly. The prior discomfort on her face vanished.
“It changed. How did…?”
“Cloaking,” Suletta revealed. “Tech like this is a necessity for folks like us.”
Miorine seemed puzzled by that, brow furrowing. Suletta tried not to stare. Even when harried and pensive, she was beautiful. Before either could speak again, a clamor erupted nearby. Suletta tensed when an unfamiliar person appeared. She shielded Miorine reflexively, stare fixed on the beam rifle in their arms. The emblem of Dominicus stitched upon their breast did not bode well.
When they were inevitably spotted, Suletta raised her pistol. She tried not to reveal how shaky the weapon felt. The captain taught her to shoot, but a helmsman didn’t have cause to use one regularly. Targets were a vast change from living things. The soldier drifted to a halt, helmet regarding the pair silently.
“D-Don’t move!” Suletta inhaled, gathering her nerve. How would her captain handle this? “Hands up! B-But drop your gun first. Then don’t move.”
The soldier ignored her bumbling commands. “Leave, scrapper. We seek that fugitive behind you.”
Suletta frowned at the description. Maybe they had mistaken her new companion for Chuchu. “She’s not who you think, sir. G-Go away, or I shoot!”
The soldier’s rifle raised, and Miorine flinched against her flank. Her reaction solidified Suletta’s decision. She had given her word—made a promise to stay beside Miorine as they sought answers. This man would not make a liar out of her. Suletta's grip firmed on the pistol, aiming the resolute way she was taught.
Then a steel pipe collided with the soldier’s head. Chuchu floated just behind the now inert man, her scowl betraying immense displeasure. Suletta had never been so happy to see that sour look.
“Bastard,” Chuchu said bitterly. Then she peered at Suletta flatly. “Think before you scurry off. You have any idea how screwed I’d be if I returned with your corpse?”
“I’m sorry, Chuchu. I couldn’t leave Ms. Miorine.” Suletta hedged a look at the aforementioned woman. She seemed leery of this newest development.
“Mio—the heck is that?” Chuchu squinted behind her. She blinked twice before her features sharply pulled. “Suletta, you better not be seeing a Prox on the sly. I will wring your neck if you got us pinched over a hook-up.”
Suletta sputtered, frazzled by the accusation. “I wouldn’t! We met on this ship.”
“You take me for an idiot?”
Before Suletta could reply, Miorine chose that moment to interject. Her gaze was steadier now; less cloudy with emotion. “I’ve only observed you for a minute, but your critical thinking is abysmal.”
“Fuck you say?!”
“It’s as she said. Suletta found me here.” The lyrical way her name was spoken warmed Suletta’s face. Chuchu still didn’t seem convinced. Suletta caught the gunner’s attention, hoping to convey her sincerity.
“Please, Chuchu. I’m serious about this…” She offered Miorine a lingering glance. “And Ms. Miorine needs our help. She can’t remember anything before waking here.”
“Nothing?” Chuchu blinked before her suspicion seemed to deepen. “You’re a miserable liar, so I believe you. Her, however—”
The ship heaved with another mighty shudder, metal groaning. It was a pressing reminder of their current situation. Chuchu grimaced as she looked around.
“Fine! If she betrays us, it’s on you.” Chuchu shouldered the dropped rifle. “You spot where that goon entered? We can take his ship before the deck is flooded with Dominicus.”
Suletta hesitated. A vessel of this size would have multiple docks. They didn’t have time to scour each one. She eyed Miorine, conscious of her tremulous fingers. The woman was holding up admirably, features devoid of outward panic. But the distant look in her eyes was just as concerning. Did Suletta have the strength to protect her? If only the captain…
“Suletta.” She jolted, spooked by the sudden call. That was strange; it sounded like the captain was really there.
“Chuchu, did you—”
“Your handbook! Comms are back.” Suletta reeled as Chuchu leapt at her, scrambling for the device in her pocket. She held it to her mouth eagerly.
“Cap, you old stardog! We’re about ten ways up shit creek. Can you navigate the Aerial to our coordinates?”
“No need,” came the even reply. “Mind the viewports. Sun’s about to rise.”
Suletta traded a perplexed look with Chuchu at the cryptic phrase. The viewport beside them was dark, only distant stars and a fleet of Dominicus cruisers to be seen. They crowded the derelict flank like ants waiting to pick over a carcass.
Within a blink, they were consumed by searing light. The infinite expanse was lanced in twain by a ray as intense as the Mercurian sun. Suletta winced briefly, shading her eyes with a palm. When the light dimmed, the imposing line of hostiles were reduced to scraps. A scarlet skiff carved through the graveyard, parting the metal sea. Suletta beamed at its familiar shape.
The captain was always a pillar of light in their darkest moments. She felt Chuchu shake her arm emphatically, sharing her relief. Suletta smiled at Miorine over her shoulder. Yet it wasn’t returned. Miorine stared blankly out the viewport, hand placed to reinforced glass. The look on her face was contemplative, pale eyes shadowed beneath a false sunrise.
...Dahlia. Miorine swallowed her discomfort, hand flying to her brow. Pain arrived in waves since she woke, always on the heels of that mystifying word. The same sensation heralded that ship, its bold profile bright against the void. The woman with the kind smile, Suletta, seemed buoyed by its appearance. Her sharp-tongued companion joined as the vessel docked inside the ship’s belly.
It occurred to her she should share their relief. Miorine couldn’t say why those men sought her. Their intentions were likely insidious, yet their demise weighed heavily on her mind. Fugitive, that man claimed. It needled that she remained ignorant of the reason. Those soldiers, whoever they were, might have cause to hunt her. Was she a criminal? Perhaps the person she had been would not have balked at this massacre.
Miorine observed the proceeds from her periphery, careful not to gaze at the burning color. The dark-haired figure who slid out was long-limbed and lean. Another woman, from the swell of their chest. Even from afar, the mindful way Suletta regarded this person was plain. Her ill-tempered friend was similarly respectful, shockingly.
“Captain!” The word slipped from Suletta’s mouth in a rush. The look she wore then could only be described as reverent.
“Close call, that one,” said the other. She crossed her arms, feigning calm. The sweat lining her jumpsuit belied the effort. “Thanks for the assist, Captain. How’d you track us?”
A helmet obscured most of the woman’s face, leaving only the curve of her smile. Something about it grated. “I have my ways. You’re both fortunate I’m skilled at improvisation. Ms. Panlunch, perhaps you could clarify something for me.”
The shorter woman stilled. “...Yeah, Cap?”
“A helmsman's duty is at the helm. Would you explain why I found mine amidst a Dominicus siege instead?"
Panlunch blanched. Suletta intervened on her behalf. “I asked her to take me along! I wanted to prove myself. Ain't fair of me to do nothing as everyone else works.”
The dark stranger regarded her at length. Then, her features thawed. “That’s very like you. Next time, keep me informed. Aerial would be inconsolable if you were lost.”
“It was a botched job from the start anyway,” Panlunch commented. “Pigs have cracked down on station traffic. They clocked us immediately—a fucking disaster.”
“It wasn’t all a loss,” Suletta said. She waved Miorine forward, smiling. “I found someone here. She was locked aboard this ship.”
Miorine stepped closer reluctantly. There was a curious pause before the ‘Captain’ looked upon her. Perhaps the reticence was mutual. Then that hidden face turned, the woman smiling benignly. It vanished swiftly. Miorine couldn’t be certain, but she seemed shocked at her appearance. From the tight set of her jaw, unpleasantly so.
“This is Ms. Miorine,” Suletta provided, oblivious. “Ms. Miorine, this is my captain.”
“Prospera Mercury,” the woman said. She smirked, composure returned. Miorine wondered if her stare would be just as flinty. “Captain of the Aerial. I hope my girls treated you kindly.”
She offered a hand in greeting. When Miorine took it, her skin was cold and rigid. She flinched as the grip tightened, peering upward inadvertently. It was a mistake. The woman loomed above her; an obelisk with a granite smile. That searing ship framed her back, crowning her in the dreadful hue.
...Dahlia. Miorine wrenched her hand free, blood curdling in her veins. She shielded her eyes, willing the panic to cease. Faintly, she heard the group converse around her. Their voices sounded afar.
“Is she well?”
“I-I don’t know. Oh, red! Captain, can you cloak your ship?”
“Oi, she gonna faint?”
Unceremoniously, she fell into the muddled dark. Clarity escaped her, blessing in only scant snippets. She stirred once to hands cradling her aloft, then placing her somewhere warm. When Miorine properly woke, she became aware of a soft bed beneath her. A dim hum came from somewhere undefinable. She struggled upright, wondering at her location.
It was disorienting to find yourself displaced without knowledge of how. The second time in Miorine’s agonizingly short memory. Her mind turned to Suletta. Those earnest eyes were her only assurance among the countless unknowns. Had she carried her here?
“Finally,” a tinny voice erupted throughout the room. Miorine stiffened at its suddenness. “Nearly thought you were dead. You fleshy types are all so fragile.”
“Who…?” Miorine looked around in alarm. There wasn’t anyone else she could see.
The voice strengthened. “I am in everyone and everything. The beginning and end. Dios, Deus, and—”
The door opened. Miorine tensed as the captain, Prospera, strode in. “Someone’s having fun. Would you notify Suletta for me? She’s been concerned about our guest.”
“Fine. You ruined my setup anyway.”
After addressing the unknown person, Prospera neared. Miorine watched warily as the woman procured a chair.
“I apologize for Eri. She learned those dramatics from me.” The helmet was removed, and Miorine blinked at the face revealed. It wasn’t as unpleasant as she imagined; the woman’s profile strong and distinctive. Faint lines creased eyes the same color as Suletta’s.
“...What is she?” Miorine asked.
“My ship’s intelligence, of which you’re currently aboard.” The woman smiled. It seemed more genuine than the one she gave when they met. Miorine wondered if the dire situation caused her to see a devil that wasn’t there. “You were unconscious for forty-eight hours. Overexertion and stress, I gather. Suletta explained the details of your unusual meeting.”
“She found me—I can’t even explain where.” Miorine stared distantly at her lap. “It was cold and cramped, like a grave. When I crawled free, I saw Suletta. She was bleeding.”
“Ah.” Prospera seemed to consider shortly. “Suletta said you had a phobia of the color red. And then, there’s the issue with your memory. Heard stasis chambers can induce temporary amnesia. Why you were locked within one on an abandoned vessel is a mystery.”
“What of that ship?” Miorine pressed. She twisted the sheet between her fingers. “Surely, there must be something there.”
“That’s impossible.” Before Miorine could interject, Prospera held up a hand. “More Dominicus agents arrived after you fainted. We had to flee the area, but I assume they’ve commandeered anything of interest.”
Miorine mulled over the information. “Dominicus?”
“The long arm of Benerit. I don’t suppose you would know the significance. Just understand they’re the law of colonized space, yet not the most principled sort.”
She flagged, overwhelmed by the unfamiliar names. “One of those men called me a fugitive. They know who I am.”
“Perhaps,” Prospera conceded. “However, they’re more likely to incarcerate without providing answers. They might see your condition as an act. Would be a shame for you to be locked in another metal coffin.”
Miorine shivered at the thought. Being trapped in a cage once was plenty. It would be worse now, knowing the truth existed yet unable to reach it.
“Still… I have nothing. Barely a name.” She heard Prospera shift in the chair. She held up her hand, thumb popping at the joint to spark a fire. A prosthetic, Miorine realized dimly. That was why her flesh felt so odd before. The woman offered a rolled cigarette.
“You smoke?”
Miorine assessed herself and found only revulsion. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, then. You know one thing.” Prospera placed the paper to her lips, setting it alight. Her stare was sharp but not unkind as it reflected the flame. “Nasty habit. Tech smokes ain’t much better. Centuries of interstellar progress and we still burn our lungs like the first animals who discovered fire. Makes you wonder about the instincts we carry inside.”
Miorine stared at her. “Are you saying… my body knows what my mind doesn’t?”
“Saying you shouldn’t overthink it. You’ll remember what you need to.” Prospera regarded her, cigarette dangling between her fingers. Smoke spilled from her mouth in a slow stream. “Are you sure there isn’t something that stuck?”
Dahlia. Miorine paused, on the edge of speaking the word aloud. Something undefinable stopped her. Maybe it was the keen look Prospera gave—eyes too incisive for the nonchalance she feigned.
“No,” Miorine said eventually. “Nothing.”
Whether she was believed wasn’t certain. Prospera offered a consolatory smile. “That’s a crying shame.”
The door opened again, spitting out the panting frame of Suletta. She looked excited, face flushed. Miorine leapt in place as the woman ran up to the bed.
“Ms. Miorine!” Despite her chaotic entrance, the sight of Suletta filled Miorine with relief. She knelt beside her, still wearing the cap that shifted her hair color. Bruising curved her nose. “Eri told me you woke up. I was so worried, but the captain said you just needed rest.”
“The little lady is right as rain now.” Prospera chuckled before rising. Miorine squinted as the woman faced Suletta. There was an uncanny similarity between them—in the arch of the cheek and the strength of their jaw. Hair darkened, Suletta was near a twin. Only the brows and hardened visage were different. However, neither had mentioned a relation. Mercury couldn't be a common surname. She straightened as two pairs of blue-green eyes fell upon her.
"She's stronger than she looks. But maybe refrain from any strenuous activities. I’m placing her in your care, Suletta.”
“Aye, Captain. You can rely on me!” Suletta saluted at the retreating captain’s back. Miorine also eyed her departure, conflicted more than she could place into words. It was undeniable this Dominicus was a dead-end. Their urgency to attack over diplomacy confirmed it. And now, the one firm link to her identity lay in their control. Miorine stared hard at her hands. Was her search over before it could begin?
“Um, Ms. Miorine…” Suletta peered timidly at her. It was odd that she had seemed more confident with a ship crumbling around their ears. “Are you sure you’re alright? I can leave you alone if you want to rest.”
Alone. Miorine flinched. She grabbed Suletta’s sleeve. “No, I’m—You’re not a bother.”
“Really?” It appeared she said the magic phrase. Suletta grinned, touching Miorine’s wrist. Miorine nodded, momentary discomfort banished. Perhaps she should be chagrined by her reliance on a stranger. Or maybe she had always been like this. Frustration bubbled within at all her missing pieces.
Miorine spoke hesitantly. “Suletta, did you mean everything you said? You promised we would find answers... together."
“Oh.” Suletta’s eyes widened. “I meant it, Ms. Miorine. Every word.”
Miorine looked away, embarrassed. She held up her palm, fingers splayed. “Then, would you stay with me until we do?”
She twitched as long fingers interlaced with hers. They were calloused and warm. The gentle look Suletta wore was the same as their first meeting. A trust was brokered, transcending the haze of unease. Miorine might not know herself, but she had this certainty.
“I promise.”
Next Bloom: Protea
A Red Tempest Sulemio designs by Tay
