Authors Note's : Wait, what? A revision of the same first story? Yeah I know, call me George Lucas apparently. But what about that sequel instead? So here's the thing….
I sat down several times to try and outline the plot for the sequel to Among the Stars, and found myself lacking anything to really go on. So I sat down and tried to flesh out the other characters besides Wolf, and found that even with the revisions made ..yeah they were still quite flat and I didn't have good grips on who they were or what their goals were. I wanted to attempt something bigger, and better than the first attempt but of course keeping the events of the other (and yes this still is a Wolf centric story. Just not *only* about him anymore) Reading reviewer comments and some pms back and forth with folks I realized something unfortunate. The flaws of the first story were going to keep me from being able to construct a well written sequel. So the answer greatly feels like, go back and fix the flaws in the first is more than just a revision of the same framework, frankly. There's a lot of years, a lot of other players involved, a lot of depth that could have, and probably should have been written into the first story. Hence, a rewrite. That said, I'm only going to rewrite this once, and do at most two rounds of revisions. Either it will become something awesome by then and I can write the sequel or ..I'll move on to other ideas. Obviously, if you've read the original Among the Stars - you'll know some things that will happen (although certainly not all, and some things are changing).
We are bits of stellar matter that got cold by accident, bits of a star gone wrong. — Sir Arthur Eddington
Iliona - First Planet in the Ervi System - 24 Years BLW
The stars glittered far above of Abandale, the largest village on the only inhabitable world in the Ervi system, hidden by the light of swinging lanterns and fires. The dangers of the forest beyond kept many from venturing past the safety of the torches placed around it's edges once night fell, but Amathla Ó Dulchaoinaill often went where others dared to tread. In the distance the pale light of the moon reflected off the once smooth stone of crumbling towers in the distance, artifacts of another age when things supposedly had been better. The lupine woman stepped carefully past the ancient trees that twisted and turned, in their reach for the sparse warmth that daytime brought, weaving her way along a path that had no markings nor real trail.
Through the forest she padded as if a ghost, what of her white fur was not covered by the heavy cloak ruffled in the wind and took on an other-worldly quality in the pale moonlight. Worn leather met the snow on the ground in silence until the desired circle of trees was arrived at. The ground was considered sacred by her people, it's boundaries not broached even by those who doubted it was anything more than superstition. Only priests and a select few others were permitted here. No symbol of faith hung from the woman's neck, although none was needed to identify her to anyone else. The violet color of her eyes, along with her coloration and gender, were sufficient to identify Amathla's role. Some would call it a gift for its insight, others would call it a curse for its cost. Regardless of what turn of fortune it truly was, the Lady Ó Dulchaoinaill was a seeress.
At the moment, the roundness of her middle which often she kept one paw on, also made it terribly obvious that she was an expectant mother in addition. Her first child had been a blessing, was still a blessing she mentally corrected herself. Nothing was set in stone, had been the mantra of her mentor many years ago. These days however she wondered if it had been truth, or wishful thinking. She knelt in the middle of the clearing beside a large stone with carved symbols there before drawing a small knife from her belt and making a small cut on one hand. The metal stung far less than running the cut along the symbols, but she barely registered either sensation as she was intent on her task. She threw her head back, an eerie howl breaking the silence of the forest in an entreaty to any of the spirits that might listen to her. For a moment she opened her eyes and stared at the stars before her gaze focused on something beyond them.
Alone in the sacred circle, Amaltha saw yet again the same images that had haunted her dreams for months, drawing a mournful cry from her lips as her worries found confirmation instead of reassurance. The path that lay before her unborn child twisted in ways she did not understand, but it was clear enough that it was a harsh one tinged with darkness and beings that terrified the seeress.
After the images faded, she knelt there for several long moneys piecing herself back together. Nothing was set in stone, she would have to find a way to change what was laid before her. Amaltha stood and shook the snow off of her skirt and cloak before making her way back towards the village and her own warm little home, trying to calm herself as she went. She did not want her husband to know the nature of what she had seen. Amathla slipped into bed beside him, laying on her back one paw again resting on the growing child within her. No, she wouldn't be saying a word of what she knew to him. It would only lead him to treat their child either as if it was a fragile thing to put on a shelf, or a tainted one to keep at a distance. Neither option was acceptable, especially if she was to try and change what she had seen.
The next morning Piarelyn Ó Dulchaoinaill awoke before his wife, glancing over her sleeping form with pale blue eyes that stood in stark contrast to the dark charcoal gray of his fur. He wondered where she had been out so late the night before, although it didn't deeply concern him. Being married to a seeress meant putting up with a number of strange habits to begin with, ones that other men might find suspicious. He'd long since grown used to it in the few years they had been married. That and as the village elder's son, albeit the second not the first and heir to a position of leadership, he was assured in the knowledge none would dare touch his wife. The tall lupine quietly arose from their shared bed and stretched, was not a bad husband by anyone's account, he simply wasn't a great one
The man was largely unremarkable, other than being the second son of the village's leader. Neither stunning nor ugly, neither deeply in love with his wife nor begrudging of their arranged circumstances. He was strong enough to provide for them both and if anything stood out about him it was that he was intelligent. Had he been born first, he would have made an efficient, if cold leader. Instead Piarelyn's fate was to maintain what aging bits of technology Iliona still possessed. He dressed, shaking out his fur and donning several layers of clothing before stepping out into the snowy day and trudging towards the one building in the village that was made of stone not wood and actually had real locks on the doors.
A few other wolves who were up and starting to head out for their own days gave him a quick glance but largely paid him no mind. His job was, largely to them, irrelevant and unimportant. A task given to second and third sons to give them something to do, was largely the consensus. As the lupine stepped into the building he turned on the electric lights, which were run by an aging solar system that resided on the roof above most prying eyes. The principles on which all of it worked were beyond him in parts, and incompletely understood in others. Mostly because the knowledge had been long lost to his people before he had been born. He had however, figured out over the years how to repair more of it than his predecessors.
Piearelyn strongly suspected he could have understood such things, if he was allowed to ask the people who would have known. Noone on Illiona was of the belief that they were alone in the infinite stretches of space above them, periodically others from far off stars and distant lands would stumble across the tiny system. The last time it had happened Piarelyn's great-great-grandfather had been a cub and some of the families from their own village had left, seeking their fates elsewhere. It was however, Piarelyn and his family alone that knew this first hand, for they could still contact them with the aging technology. Except for the fact he couldn't, because tradition stated it as did the laws enforced by the elders. Particularly his father.
Why it had become such a great secret it was possible, or they put up with struggling on their own instead of simply asking for help, neither he nor his father knew for certain. Oh there were tales and prophecies that the spirits would be angry with them, or that the others they reached had always and would always refuse their help but it was really no more than the repeated words of old wolves who had little better to do. Regardless, it was far too entrenched for even his father to change.
Corneria - Lylat System - 20 Years BLW
Accord Day was a grand affair, at least in the eyes of some. Mostly the Cornerians, one of the advantages of being on the winning side of things - it was easier to view them with rose colored glasses, or in this case through ticker tape parades. Hours of which would be broadcast on the news all day, each anchor or interviewee proclaiming how wonderful it was for the entire Lylat system to be at peace for the second year in a row after years of bloody inter-system war. Unified under one government, for the good of all it's people. Senators attended fancy dinners and Chancellor Voss would make a speech that really had nothing of substance worth repeating. James McCloud would find himself yet again in a flight jacket (because what else was he going to wear?), attending a military dinner.
The young man found it hilarious frankly, that the dinner would be held in his and others honor and yet he and most of the other pilots who had managed to survive the war weren't actually in the military any longer. Part of the treaties that had been signed or some such politics, required paring down the military force. Rumor had it his unit had been specifically listed as a group that would be disbanded under the table to get one of the treaties signed. It meant something of an early retirement for the vulpine to be flying under Corneria's official emblem. Which wasn't actually meaning an early retirement at all, it had taken all of a week for him to form a private for-hire team. Right now the "team" consisted of himself, and his longest friend Peppy Hare who had been in the same disbanded unit, and looking for a third.
James had thought life would be simpler without all the military paperwork and nonsense and he was both dismayed and elated to find that he was completely wrong. Dismayed that things weren't any simpler at all, if anything they'd become far more complicated. He could choose which missions he wanted and when he wanted to fly, except he was taking nearly every mission as his team had to establish a reputation above and beyond his personal one, and if he wanted to keep his ship and have any money left over afterwards he'd be away from home nearly as much as before. Elated, because the only reason that was a problem was that he had fallen head over heels for the most wonderful woman he could have ever dreamed up - Vixy Reinhard. Managing a relationship and his own mercenary team though was putting him at odds with himself, a feeling James didn't like in the least.
The orange-furred fox tapped at his wineglass with a claw absently, wishing that he'd been able to bring her. She'd been rather opposed to the idea, so instead he was here without a date. Peppy was sitting beside him, his own wife Vivian another seat over. Damnit. James was impatient, really this was all bread and circuses and the pilot knew it. It would have been fine with him though except all he really wanted to do was go over to Vixy's place and have dinner with her instead. If only he could be in two places at once that would solve almost everything wrong with his world.
The older pilot beside him chuckled, knowing what was on his friend's mind. "Easy James, it'll be over soon enough. Supposedly it's going to be infinitely shorter than last year's because they're not letting any of us say anything."
There was a chuckle from the fox as he stopped tapping at the glass of liquor in front of him. "Probably for the best. Bunch of flyboys like us were never meant to be paraded around on political pedestals. I still can't believe they let Conrad Grey take that microphone after he got into the open bar. I'm pretty sure that those war stories were not the ones they wanted the public to hear." The chuckle faded into a more bitter one. Even drunk he didn't say a word about what had transpired before the entire prison on Macbeth had been liberated - prisoners of war like pilots who had managed to survive being shot down in atmosphere and hardened criminals alike.
"There's a mistake you only make once." Peppy grimaced remembering last years Accord Day dinner and picked up his own glass, glancing sideways with a grin at his wife. The older man was just as eager to be out of the formal affair and home as well, he was simply far better at hiding his impatience.
James slumped down in his seat surprising a groan as some other General stepped up and glanced over at Peppy with a gleam in his eyes that made the older man worry. The fox slipped on his sunglasses and pulled out his cell phone, holding it under the table as he rapidly started texting someone.
"James, please James whatever you're planning don't. Please. It's only an few more hours." The gray hare's ears stood straight up as he whispered back.
"And we're leaving again tomorrow afternoon on the next job. That's a few more hours *I* don't get to have with Vixy. It's bad enough trying to balance the job and trying to see her without this kind of nonsense!"
"I do understand that you know. We're kind of in the same boat, things will settle down soon, but it's not like there are a lot of other jobs out there for us. Keep our heads down and we'll sort it out. Put the phone down James, it's a bad idea, whatever it is it's a bad idea." Peppy glanced over at the glass in front of James and was wondering whether he should take the phone and the glass away or if that would just encourage the other man more, and he ought to go get James a few more drinks instead and hope he was too gone to start any plans. He sighed realizing neither would realistically work and quietly whispered. "Can I at least get an advanced heads up here? I would kind of like to make a quiet exit with the wife rather than get arrested tonight James."
"Calm down, I'm not quitting what we do. I don't think I could. It's absurd, when I'm on the ground I want to be in the air, when I'm in the air I want to be on the ground. I may have lost my mind but I haven't gotten stupid. You're not going to get arrested old man. It's nothing but a little bit of hacking into city infrastructure. Shhh, I'm concentrating." James rapidly typed on the fold out keyboard, something that was considered outdated but let him do actual work on his phone, a terminal window popping up on the screen as he navigated through logins and backdoors that he'd found a hundred times before.
"I can't say I recall you being willing to hack things while in the middle of a hundred or more military officials and our employers for any other girl. You really that over the moon for her?"
"Absolutely. I need you to help me pick out a ring soon."
Peppy sputtered and stared at James. James McCloud, ace pilot, daredevil, hobbyist hacker into all things he didn't belong in. James, the man with a mental black book of girls numbers and addresses that could only be called little in comparison to a city wide phone directory was going to settle down?!
"Your jaw is hanging open, dear." Vivian giggled softly at her husband, she'd had her own suspicions that was coming and was shocked that Peppy hadn't seen it. She reached over and with a paw gently tapped on her husbands chin.
"Old man, why don't you go get up and get another drink. The bar is near the door anyways. Take Vivian too." Peppy groaned and got up with his wife and headed towards the bar, so that it didn't look like he was going for the door. He was grateful for the heads up when the building fire alarm went off, shortly followed by the sprinkler system.
Officials and wives in fancy dresses streamed out of the building amid mostly yelps of surprise and a few cries of confusion as James shut his phone and shoved it in his pocket and calmly waked over and opened one of the windows as the room was on the first floor and unlatched it. Waiting in the lines trying to get out wasn't his style, as he landed amid the manicured hedges and flowers before he took off running for the nearest subway entrance.