Chapter One
I can't believe it. I'm finally going to Eden Prime! Eden Prime, the most beautiful planet in the galaxy. Or, so I was told. I had seen advertisement after advertisement of job vacancies for engineers, and I was hoping to learn a thing or two about alliance vessels to help me complete my pilgrimage. I mean, after all. I am only eighteen. But with so many years spent in an enviro-suit on the Defrahnz, I shouldn't exactly keep my hopes up about learning anything.
I know just about all there is to know, from drive cores, to turrets, to cooling and heating. But, thinking about it now, oh Keelah, I'm not going to come close to learning anything. Here I am, Metta'Vorrell nar Defrahnz, second guessing myself and my decision to come here. But no, I reassure myself, I have not just come here to complete my pilgrimage, I have come here to meet new people, get paid, try new food (if humans can cook with dextro proteins that is) and just have a good time.
I sigh, tired after the twelve hour flight. I was on a frigate, headed for Eden Prime, and they reluctantly let me aboard, but said I was to keep to myself. Damn xenophobic bosh'tets. I hope that not all humans are like that. If they are, boy am I screwed. Deep in the trance of thought, I barely noticed the voice over the intercom as what for me is an important message echoes through the shuttle bay.
"Est-mat-d ti- to do-k is fi-teen min-tes." The voice is distorted as it rings through an older model intercom. This ship needs some repairs, I think to myself as I look around the dingy bay, the edge of my view partly distorted by my visor.
"Hey, alien." A voice calls out from my left. I glance over, still in my seat, to see one of the xenophobic bosh'tets. Kyle Motland, a scary figure with large muscles still perfectly visible through his skin tight shirt. If it matched his skin colour you would not see it at all.
"My name is Metta. Metta'Vorrell nar Dafrehnz," I snap back, annoyed.
"Oh, you're a feisty one aren't ya!" He hawks up a green one, comes closer to me, so close I can see his breath fogging up the outside of my blue tinted visor. He spits on it and smirks. "Too bad you can't take of that helmet of yours, now aint it!"
I twitch in my chair. Part of me wants to get up and drive both my suit bound knuckles into his nose, and the other part of me wants to do the same thing, but at the same time doesn't want to get myself hurt. I could tell he would take off my visor and throw it out the airlock if I even came close to touching him.
"Te- minu-es to do-" A second anouncment.
"Von Bosh'tet," I snarl, evidently enraged.
"Just be glad the captain let the likes of you on our ship." He turns and walks away, leaving me to wipe his phlegm off my visor with the inside of my arm. This will all be over soon. I can leave this behind in ten minutes. I close my eyes, and wait. Keelah, I can't believe I just called someone a bastard with a weak bladder. Things aren't too bad after all. I smile, as if pleased with my efforts.
The hull jerks underneath me, shaking me somewhat vigorously in my seat. I hear the hissing of steam as the airlock opens. I hop out of my chair, and find that my feet are incredibly weak after the twelve hour flight. Finally gaining my balance, I enter the elevator, into a minute of awkwardness. Silence. Just before the doors begin to shut, two soldiers get in. They aren't as bad as Kyle, but they were still xenophobes.
A faint ding forces its way through the tense atmosphere that has built up in the tightly enclosed spaces we stood in. The doors open, and I slowly yet eagerly begin to make my way up the stairs. I do wish I had taken a look at the ship's drive core, but Kyle forced me back with the stock of his rifle, his teeth bared. It was a pitty I couldn't explore further than the dingy seat.
At this precise moment, caught up in the flash back of Kyle, my omni-tool lights up on my left arm. My friend, Asta'Terell nar Defrahnz is calling from back home. He is a year younger than me. Just about to hit accept, I look up and see Kyle.
"Bosh'tet," I murmur slightly too loudly to myself, and Kyle notices.
"Hey, freakshow!" he calls out from the other side of CIC.
"I need to leave now," I try to keep myself cool.
"I know what bosh'tet means you suit bound sonuvabi-". I lose it. I punch him in the nose and break into a sprint towards the airlock.
"Hey. Come back here!" I look over my shoulder quickly. He was fine. I couldn't punch very well. I give a taunting wave and step into the airlock, then out into the wide open spaces of the Eden Prime docking bay. A small group at the end of the boarding platform is greeting members of the crew as they disembark. That's when the metal floor behind me squeaks. I turn around. It's Kyle.
"Crap!" I exclaim as I start running, slightly winded from my last sprint, and make my way to the end of the platform. Kyle is faster. Just at the end of the platform, Kyle bounds at my feet, tackling me around the ankles. I faceplant, right at the feet of an alliance marine. She raises a hand, and makes a small gesture that moves the crowd back a bit. Kyle pushes himself to his feet, before spitting on the back of my suit.
"Hey, you, get back. That's an order!" I can tell the servicewoman is talking to Kyle. I'm assuming he had, because now she is tending to me, wiping the saliva off my back.
"Hey. I'm Nirali Bhatia. Are you hurt?" She asks.
"No. I think I'm fine." I reply, thankful that my visor didn't crack in the fall.
"C'mon. Let's go get you cleaned up." She helps me to my feet, and we walk away to her cabin, laughing as we talk about the look on Kyle's face when he saw her. Keelah, she is hilarious.