Cygnus' Story
Cygnus worked with the diligence of years of practice. An engine to be proud of. The ship, a shell worthy of holding her.
He'd been recruited to the ground team ten cycles earlier. Like many others from his district, he had been plucked from one of the most prestigious universities.
At first it had been difficult talking with the others. Dialects strange. Body mannerisms counterproductive; centuries of adaptation to local environments had caused each nation to look like a separate species, rather than distant cousins of the same.
But now, they worked like a well lubricated piece of machinery. Men from Eule working on user interfaces. The clever men from Raaf spinning spool after spool of fine filament to insure that all the components met perfectly. Habicht men clarified metal, ceramic, glass. Aquila dealt with the theoretical equations, the mind behind them all to focus the intent into a single purpose. Familiar Peir men worked with him, agile fingers dealing with all of the complicated components that the others couldn't seem to conceptualize. Making physical the theory that Aquila proposed.
A joint effort. A conceptual show of force. A banner to show that all of the people could work together towards a single, amazing task.
A space ship. Not the planet-hoppers that Aquila possessed, or the skyskimmer that Raaf and Pier used to travel in ways their bodies no longer could. A real space ship. With the intent to leave their star system.
They'd dealt with aliens before. Just passing traders. Common knowledge, at least on this isolated island. Tantalizing voices in the dark. All knew that more awaited them. A joint effort a century old between Habicht and Aquila even made two moons, and another planet in their system, livable.
But this, the Dart. This was made for far greater things. To explore. To meet aliens, rather than passively wait for others to come to them.
So many hopes, dreams, rested on this one little ship.
She was little. Eight souls to be picked to man her. One male from each tribe, with an extra two from Peir to insure the engine, the computers, everything, would continue to work once they had traveled past the safety of their atmosphere. And another Aquila too. While the rest of the crew had yet to be assigned, two Aquila stated early on that they were to be the pilots, and had been trained and treated as such. Cygnus did not doubt or question the assignment; not his place to spend time worrying over that aspect of their mission. If they were a tad frightening, or threatening, in their manner, so be it. The lowly engineers rarely saw their like anyway.
Rumor had it the Aquila Queen wanted more from her tribe on ship, but she couldn't bargain for it. The sole reason the other tribes allowed the second was to insure that if anything happened to the pilot, the other would be on hand to perform the calculation needed to control the ship, perform the trajectories needed to land on other planets, generate the equations to keep the engines in balance.
So, basically, everything of "any real importance."
Ten years of preparation. Waiting, hoping. Occasionally one of the construction team would be traded out. Very rare. Most fought to the bone to keep themselves in the program.
Hundreds in all. So many working in symphony to complete one glorious, secret task.
The last year had been the most excruciating. No one had known who would be going, who would be staying. The ground crew buzzed with rumor, speculation, needless what-ifs.
Cygnus had been one of the few whom assumed he would not be going. Kept his head down. Performed his work to the best of his abilities. Read and researched what civilian populations were accomplishing with their power cells, reservoirs, converters. Poured over what little data they'd gleaned from the few alien visitors the Queens provided. Suggesting and implementing every advantage he found to aid them in their task. Every cubit of space he shrank the engine gave that much more space for food stores, science labs, living quarters. Efficiency, effectiveness. His personal goals to push the envelope as far as feasible, while ensuring he kept to all safety regulations. Even suggesting regulations on occasion, based on new data from a Raaf study here, or a Habicht factory accident there.
Celebrations filled the hangar bay for a week when the Dart had been completed. Engines built. Shielding installed. Living quarters prepared and food stores packed.
Celebrations broken by the sight of a cluster of females stepping out onto a prepared stage. Silence caught like the plague. Song and dance stopped within a moment.
Not just females. Queens. Leaders of each people.
Cygnus' eyes of course went to the Peir queen first. His people elected their Queen, while others, like the Eule and Habicht, fell back to older traditions of hierarchical matriarchal rule.
Of course, even among the Peir, females hold the right to vote while the men must petition their wishes to lower governmental heads.
He'd never seen such a beautiful woman before. Large, and stately. Her eyes the flashing red of sunset. Her neck long and thin. Her snowy white feathers speckled with large red gemstones; the metal holding them worked to filaments so fine one could not see them from any reasonable distance, giving the effect of large drops of blood dotting those pristine feathers. Her dress was simple, compared to that of the others. The embroidery trimming her throat and wrists, gold and red on white woven fabric. Impeccably made, elegant in its simplicity.
The Queen from Eule clothed herself in a thick fur of some kind, fluffing out her silhouette to appear as large as her companions. The Habicht Queen decorated her body in priceless painted silks. Up close, the panels told all sorts of intricate stories. From where Cygnus stood, glass of wine hanging slack and forgotten in his hand, he made out only a gaudy colorful blur. Raaf people always seemed to dress in black, and their representative stayed true to tradition, in that sense. Millions of black stones, long thin shards of some glossy black stone Cygnus couldn't identify, rippled in waves around her willowy form. The ruddy feathers of the Aquila queen had been accentuated with some artificial pigmentation. The tips of each trimmed in white. Her dress, white and form fitting, drew his eye in a way that forced him to compare the Aquila with his own queen.
Much to her disfavor, of course.
"We have come to inspect what has been wrought," one sung out. Cheers erupted. Woots and whistles. Hands reached up to support them down.
Cygnus followed with the tide as the queens and their entourages were swept up and led towards where the Dart rested on her fine, stalky legs. A multitude of voices explaining this, or that. Pointing out a bit of craftsmanship here, how the ceramics had been placed there. The subtle decoration of the troweling, the grace of her body.
Everyone excited over the collected masterpiece. The honor of visiting dignitaries. The heady sight of beautiful women after a decade without.
Even from his place farther back, their taller bodies stuck out from the crowd; all but the Eule's ruler taller than the flock of men by a head or more.
"The Dart sits strangely," a soft voice compelled him to turn around. "All the illustrations I've been shown were of it sitting upright."
"She is sitting at an angle right now so that we can service her on the ground. The past month has been comprised of detail work, living quarters and computer updates. While the upright position is her initial take off posture, it is difficult to reach all of her systems while she's in that orientation, because her interior was designed for the null-gravity in space. In fact, most of our work the past year, she's been tilted at one angle or another, to facilitate systems checks. She'll need to be able to land on any angle, if there's an emergency, after all. We've even retrofitter her with secondary wings, stowed away in those compartments, to support a more gradual take off, if the Dart ends up landing on a high-gravity planet."
"You speak Aquila," the woman said to him, surprise lightening the song of her voice.
Cygnus bowed a little. "We've all become pretty comfortable with each others dialects over the years."
Pale orange eyes, typical of that northern tribe, studied him, tilted up just a little in a subtle smile.
"Handsome, intelligent, and polite. Would you care to be my guide for the evening?"
"I am honored."
He offered his elbow the way he knew their people preferred. She slipped her hand into the crook, her eyes smiling a bit more before she looked ahead. He guided her through the throng.
She must have fallen quite far behind to request the assistance of a Pier, but... wasn't that the goal of this project? To foster not just a temporary truce, but ongoing peace between their people?
Petite fingers dug into the delicate skin between his feathers, sending tingles up his spine.
Touch was uncommon in the general population, but here, with small working quarters and a close group of coworkers, they'd all become quite used to it thanks to necessity... but... that touch... was unlike any he felt before. Not the careless graze of fingers as tools passed from hand to hand. Or the brush of shoulders, where the thick buffer of feathers meant that each only felt the pressure of another close by. This was... quite intimate.
A jostle from one of his coworkers pressed the Aquila against his side. Her fingers clung all the harder to him.
Cygnus glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Her jaw tight. Eyes wide and staring straight ahead.
"Do we... need to catch up with your people faster?" He asked, attempting to be diplomatic.
"Yes. Please."
He nodded and started pushing through the crowd, rather than following along with the flock. A kind word, a gentle shove of a friend here or there. The woman pressed herself against him as they passed one large cluster or another, until they reached the tight knot of people around the assembled royalty.
"There are a lot of people," Cygnus murmured just loud enough for her to hear. "Are you ready to press in, or do you need to rest first?"
"The longer I wait, the worse it will be," she whispered in return, not even looking at him.
Agoraphobia. With hundreds of brilliant minds working together in close quarters that their people had not evolved for, a disproportionate percentage of the people who worked with him suffered from it. Unlikely that any of those coworkers would be in this building right now, of course. Many chose to celebrate the completion of the Dart in private, or in small groups.
A person in the royal entourage, of course, had no such choice.
Cygnus pried her fingers from his elbow, letting her latch onto the opposite hand. He curled a protective arm around her back.
"No one will sneak up behind you," he said quietly. "Just keep your eyes ahead."
"What do you think I've been doing?"
He couldn't help but smile.
"Pardon us. We need to catch up," he said to the crowd in general. It took a bit more work to push through now. As they got closer and closer to the royal personages, the press of bodies closed in on them. So tight that even Cygnus felt himself becoming uncomfortable.
A couple of the attendants caught sight of them among the rest and encouraged some of the more ardent engineers to make a path for them.
The weight of her sagged against his arms as they made the last few steps.
"Numididae," one of them whispered, reaching for her hands.
"I am safe," she replied automatically.
"We will take her from here," the other male attendant asserted.
"Of course," Cygnus acquiesced.
"No." Those delicate hands, ones that had never seen a moment of work their entire lives, tightened on him with as much force as they could muster; minute vibrations of her muscles trembled their joined hands.
The two Aquila men exchanged glances.
Cygnus raised his head, puffing his chest out to increase his silhouette. He had no right to challenge a royal attendant, regardless of nation, but the desperate clutch on his hand grounded him to the duty. He'd remain at her back if she wished it.
"We will be inspecting the interior of the ship soon enough," Cygnus offered. "It is quite small, so not many will be able to fit in at a time. I am honored to show you where my team has been working."
"Yes. I had wanted an expert in his division to explain the mechanics of..."
"Interflux plasma mix engines, practice and theory."
"To me."
"As you wish, Numididae."
The pair bowed as low as the close press of bodies allowed, then separated so that Cygnus could lead her farther into the cluster of dignitaries.
She took a deep breath, attempting to relax. Her eyes regained that half-lidded look that the higher ranks pulled when they did not want to show their expression. Chin up, shoulders back.
If it weren't for the tight grip on his hand, Cygnus might very well believe it.
This close to the head of the procession, he made out one word in three of the discussion as it flickered between department heads. An expert here or there pipping in as needed to clarify details. No one asked a question, of course, nor was it expected. Royalty knew everything. At least, they did in the regions where royalty still passed through blood. Courtesy caused the scientists to supply information in a continuous burble; if one person thought that a term might be confusing, or need explanation, they supplied it.
Cygnus glanced over at his new companion more frequently now than was strictly proper.
Numididae. An interesting name.
And truthfully... she was a bit of a beauty.
He wasn't certain about the feather tinting she had done. Much like her Queen, the ruddy color had been leached from the edges of many of her feathers. Some had been bleached completely, creating a little speckled pattern of white in the delicate feathers around her eyes, the gentle curve of her shoulders. She wore no royal jewels or embossed fabric, just a simple dress woven of expensive red silks. The layers of patterned silks had been cut in such a way as to build up a stiff collar around her neck, leave her shoulders and arms bare, and wrap in a concealing manner around her body, all the way to the floor. Showing off her wealth by volume of fabric, rather than in gaudy baubles.
He found he rather liked the look.
Soon enough, small groups were settled to go into the ship itself. The Queens, and higher ranking scientist, went first of course, then their consorts, and so on down the line.
"Speak to me, while we wait," Numididae ordered in a small voice. Cygnus nodded, his mind grasping for whatever he might talk with such a lady about.
"The Dart is a magnificent ship," he ventured. She didn't comment one way or another, so he continued. "I'm not sure if you know, but she's the third ship we've built. The first one never made it past our atmosphere. We had been basing plans on Peir skyskimmers, with their wide wingspan and flat bodies at first. The consensus had been to follow that type of design, because we do not know what kind of planets the Dart will be landing on. Surely larger wings would be safer, yes? More surface area for catching the winds. More surface for warming the solar paneling as well. Well, with the skyskimmers serving as our test vehicles, we went straight to producing a larger version. Cloud, that was the first ship. She had three pilots. One Raaf and two Peir. One for the engines, one for each wing.
"Suborbital tests were positive, but each time Cloud skimmed the surface of our atmosphere, she would stall right out. Engines failed. She'd hop a few times, each touch of her native air seemed to give her a short breath of life, she'd jump for another few hundred yards, and then she'd give up. Those large wings weren't designed for spaceflight. But her long, light body makes her an excellent glider. The radio had been piped throughout the entire complex that first flight. Imagine the sound of a hundred men all holding their breath as one. The roar of engines, of pilots spitting out trajectory, arguing with equipment we made, and then Pfft! Nothing."
"Nothing?"
Cygnus nodded.
"When Cloud's engines stalled, there was nothing to make noise. No power to any instruments. The radio had been set up with a separate battery system, by chance more than design, but there was nothing to hear. Other than the Raaf pilot cursing, of course." Cygnus grinned. "That was the only way we knew that they were still alive. A full minute Cloud floated among her namesakes. We had built her too well for a little engine failure to down her. A full minute, however, until the idiot pilots stopped panicking and began the restart of her engines. She waited for them, patient as a mother grousue hen, and even at half power they glided home without a single life lost."
"You speak as though they are women you know."
Cygnus coughed a little in embarrassment.
"We have no women here," Numididae, he ached to say her name, but she had not introduced herself with her spoken name, so it would be the height of impropriety to use it. "So, the ships are our wives. Our daughters. We dote and raise and protect them, so that they might protect us when we are ready.
"There is a joke going around now," he explained in a quiet whisper, so that the heads of state around them couldn't hear. "Cloud was our first mate, a Peir bitch who traveled where she wished. Talon, our second mate, who had more excitement in her nose than any of us could handle, too small and agile for her own good."
"An Eule mate, then?"
Cygnus nodded at her understanding. "Any who flew in her became motion sick at the slightest provocation. None but Eule stomachs could handle those tight turns and spins Talon performed to get out of our atmosphere."
"What kind of woman is Dart then?"
"Aquila," Cygnus replied, his nares heating with embarrassment. "A bit larger, more straightforward, intelligent. If any has the chance to make it, Dart will."
"You are quite certain."
"We have put our all into it. I am not certain where we will go from here, if she doesn't."
"You have used Aquila take-off protocols."
He nodded, impressed she knew about such things. "The upright takeoff is more efficient. At least it is in small scale. It requires more upward force, pound for pound, but the duration of takeoff will be more than halved. As I mentioned earlier, she has retractable wings, so that a more traditional take off should also be possible. There will be extensive testing of both, before the crew is chosen for the first out-of-orbit test."
"You know this for certain?"
Again, his nares flooded with heat. He rubbed the side of his nose in embarrassment. "No, not precisely. That is what we have been told. But the ship has been packed as though she were ready for a full flight. We want to make sure she can take the strain of the additional weight of all the coolants and supplies. If she can not leave the ground with all of her mass, there is no point in continuing without additional tweaking to her engines."
"Thank you."
"Hmm?"
"I believe it is our turn."
A handful of lower dignitaries were making their way down the long staircase from the belly of the Dart. The rest had already been in and out. The Queens and consorts already moving on to the next thing the department heads wanted to show off.
"Do you want me to go up first?" Cygnus asked.
He got a sidelong glare. "The strength of the ladder has been thoroughly proven."
For all of her bravado, he still walked her up to the metal rungs, and her hand still held his in a vice-strong grip.
"You're going to have to let go, if you want to go up."
She looked away, releasing him and turning to go up into the ship.
Cygnus waited until she climbed up into the hatch before clambering up himself.
"The Dart has several entry points," Cygnus began explaining, as Numididae looked about her. "We use this one most because we've been using this room, the cargo bay, as a staging area. A lot of the components we need are too big to bring in, so we break them into little pieces and reassemble them here before installing them in other parts of the ship."
A couple others gathered in the bay, listening to Cygnus with rapt attention. Including the two male attendants. He waited until the room filled with the rest of the dignitaries. Luckily for him, a couple of his superiors came up as well.
"The cargo bay has a capacity of six thousand, nine hundred and thirty cubits," the next department head picked up where Cygnus left off, once enough were in the room. His voice high and nasal with his nervousness. "While the Dart is far from a cargo vessel, it is quite possible, depending on the length of the journey and how many planets are explored before returning home, that the scientists aboard may have a very large quantity of samples. Because space is very limited, we have restricted analytical equipment to the bare essentials, which you see in the next room."
Cygnus stepped aside so that the group could continue on. A little thrill of pleasure warmed his nose as Numididae remained at his side.
"You may show me what you have worked on."
"It would be my pleasure, but I will warn you, there isn't much to look at."
He took her to the engines, explaining this or that while they traveled. Occasionally he would have to climb up one section or another, since the floor slanted at forty-five degrees, and offer a hand to pull her up.
"It is disconcerting to have the floors like this," she grumbled after the third time.
"Imagine what it's like when she's belly up and you're walking on the ceiling. This might seem uncomfortable, but we've all been using every surface of her as a floor, at one time or another. Here, one more ledge and we'll be in the engines."
Cygnus lifted her up through the hand-span wide safety seal door that separated the engines from the rest of the ship. Numididae tottered a moment on the angled surface, then carefully straightened her long skirts before looking around.
"These engines are designed to remain perpetually powered," Cygnus supplied, when he noticed the tilt of her head. "That's the hum you hear. She's as 'powered down' as she can be right now. Sleeping and dreaming away."
"It is designed this way, to avoid the issues that the Cloud had," Numididae stated, in as close to a question as tradition allowed.
"Just so. Instead of three minutes to reboot the engine, Dart can't be turned off. At most, we might need a couple seconds to reinitialize the thrusters, half a minute for the shields."
"An interesting safety measure."
Cygnus smiled at the implied compliment.
"The combined efforts of thirty men to come up with that particular design."
"Very few people on this island take credit for anything."
"Hundreds of men, hundreds of hands in the task. I can't think of any piece that has been touched by only one of us."
She chuckled a little bit and wandered over to one of the containment cells.
"There is a pleasant... vibration."
Cygnus nodded and went over to it himself. "Yes, there is. Part of the thermal reaction. Many a night I soothed a sore back with it. Here, ah, rotate and lean back against it."
He'd almost reached out to move her into his favorite position on the ship before catching himself. She eyed him suspiciously, but did as he suggested.
For a moment, her eyes opened in surprise, then the lids dropped again. He knew the sensation well. Radiant heat and a low frequency vibration. Putting one's skull against it hurt, as the vibrations turned to a particularly agonizing sound frequency as it reverberated around the inner ear, but for the back and shoulders, it felt quite wonderful.
"Very... relaxing."
Cygnus smiled.
"The vibration is at a different hertz when the Dart is awake and her engines at full, but while she's asleep here on the ground, it is quite soothing. I hope it will be the same when she is at rest in space."
"I'm certain the crew would appreciate it if it was."
A certain silence stretched in between them. The hum of the sleeping engine, and the occasional echo of the others in the ship did little to disturb it.
"Thank you, again. You seem very perceptive. For an engineer."
"One might take that for an insult," he smiled to show he didn't. "Is there anything else here you would like for me to speak about?"
"No. I wish to see the bridge."
"As you wish."
Cygnus offered his elbow again. A little smirk played on her lovely face before she accepted.
He gave a vague tour of the ship as they passed through private quarters, hydroponics, the labs, and so on. Just like the engines, he'd had his hands on many pieces, here and there, but also hastened to explain that if she wished a further detailed report, he'd have to request the assistance of someone who had been in this field or that one.
They passed the other group in the middle of one of the long, narrow hallways. They were traveling downhill to Cysnus' upward slope.
Cygnus did not miss the glare that the two male attendance passed him as Numididae took precedence. Their group had to wait, leaning against the wall, as Cygnus offered his assistance through a narrow portcullis.
"This door is thicker than the others," Numididae observed, as the other group began to work their own way through it, back towards the engines.
"There are several such doors. We've been referring to them as the 'seals.' In the event of a catastrophe, they will come down automatically. Fire will be contained, or the vacuum of space."
"Or the perpetual engine."
Cygnus nodded. "Yes, or our engine. You do not have to worry about that, however. That engine has been built to last. It is more likely that something dangerous brought into the cargo bay, or a fire in the kitchens, would cause a problem. These have a higher probability, so they are placed between the engine and where living quarters are. In a worst case scenario, if the engines are cut off so that we can not communicate with them, a timer will begin back there," he gestured back the way they came. "An automatic pilot program will be initialized. The computer will record how the Dart got to whatever its current location is, it will calibrate the shortest way home, and turn back. One of your Aquila men plans to calibrate it so that it can determine the safest maximum speed, so that we can get back home. With your outposts along the perimeter of our solar system, the Dart will be sensed and collected the moment is has gotten back in range."
"Quite the safety measure."
Cygnus smiled again. "Well, there aren't any other ships out there looking out for our people. We must take every precaution."
"I never thought of exploration as a 'safe' thing, engineer."
He nodded. "No, it is not. This is why the likes of us remain on the ground, hm?"
Her chin lifted in mock affront.
"I have vacationed on both of our moons, I hope you know. And I plan on visiting our planetary neighbor very soon, actually. Mother plans on being there when the Dart passes it in the night. There are quite the celebrations planned."
"I don't doubt it," Cygnus soothed. "Here is the bridge."
With the wave of his hand over a specific panel, the holocommand came to life.
Numididae gasped.
The bridge had been designed with null-gravity in mind. No real up, or down. Panels had been designed to roll along surfaces on a rail system. With a push, one could send navigation to the top, or bottom of the room. In the heat of the moment, it could even be snapped off of the rail and repositioned elsewhere. The rails themselves had been made from a strong metal, he had never worked with the Habicht during their clarification process, but he had witnessed plenty of tensile strength tests. They'd been polished to a soft burnish, so that bare fingers or toes could clasp them and use them as holds.
Forty separate panels, each with their own purposes. Sectioned off into stations, organized temporarily in a way for the construction crew to make sense of the readouts while the ship remained grounded. Each panel, semi-dormant for now, projecting its display into the middle of the room. Color coded, to some extent, so that the Captain might pick out blue engine reads, or orange scanner readings, or check the red shield status. Each panel, of course, showing images, words, dots, dashes, graphs, thrumming scales in quiet harmony, as the Dart slept on.
Minor irregularity on shielding panel 47-J, one whispered to him. Water tanks at three quarters full, recommend find nearest planet with potable water for refueling, stated another, with a yellow blinking dot that blinked in time with a corresponding yellow light on one of the scanner panels, which had a list of possible planets within scanner range queued up for a living set of eyes to determine which made the most sense.
"It's... quite beautiful."
"She is, isn't she?"
How many times had he worked in here? Not as often as many perhaps, but... seeing it through the wide orange eyes of his companion, made him look at it with a certain freshness. If he closed his inner eyelids, he could look at the softened colors and ignore all the data that pulled at his conscious mind.
Numididae's soft chuckle caught him off guard. He opened his eyelids and openly stared at her.
"You haven't been around many women, have you? For all of your joking."
"One of my teachers, in the academy, and a few theoretical and quantum physicists. Not many women are in our field."
"It shows. It's a bit of an insult to keep calling this ship a woman."
Cygnus' hand unconsciously reached out to touch a graceful curve of metal.
"Oh don't act so wounded," Numididae blew a puff of air out through her nose.
She looked... different in the dim, myriad lights of this room. The way the rainbow of colors reflected off of the white flecks of her body. Her weight leaning off on a hip. Younger, now, than he'd first assumed.
Bright eyes flicked to his, demanding his gaze.
"I was not giving you empty flattery earlier." A delicate, slim hand reached for his face. Cygnus' hand clenched against the familiar metal. Frozen. A single digit traced along the sensitive ridge along the side of his nose. Very. Slowly. "You are quite handsome. It is a shame the captain does not have such distinct features."
Cygnus blinked, attempting to clear his head. "The captain...? Wait. You know who the captain will be?"
Her eyes flicked skyward in annoyance. "Of course. The postings are all decided. They shall be announced before the first test launch ceremony. The pool for the captain was a small enough one. All very boring old Aquila. Thin and worn out. Do you think they will notice if we remain in the bridge a while longer? I do not relish going back into the noise below."
Cygnus blinked, shocked she would ask him any question. Wouldn't she know better than he how long it would take for the attendants to begin looking for her?
"We were among the last to board the ship, and the others passed us going back down... they had already seen this area."
"Good. Turn off all of these lights. And close the door."
He did as he was bid quite automatically. Hadn't been prepared for the fingers delving into the sensitive places around his neck, between the stalks of blood feather spines he could never quite reach to preen himself.
"Num..." he caught himself. She still hadn't given him her name to use. "My princess," he said instead. No idea of her rank, but knew the Aquila didn't mind if one presumed to use a higher rank title, if one was unsure.
She laughed against the sensitive bud of his ear. Laughing at his assumption? Because it was correct, or because he was far off?
"Do not flatter yourself too much, engineer. You are handsome, it will anger my mother if I mate with you, and this ship is quite amazing. I wish to... bless it, before it's maiden voyage."
Cygnus gasped a laugh, as her fingers reached around to his front, tugging at all the buckles of his uniform coveralls.
Maiden voyage, and no longer a maiden. If the boys down in the engine room found out- She snagged his shoulder, turning him around and biting him soundly on the throat. He groaned.
"I... I've... not..."
"Of course you haven't, that's half the fun."
For the next couple days, he found himself at her side whenever she bid, acting as a bulky barrier to the masses around them as the royals performed before recording cameras, made their rounds to see working units, even visiting the adjacent barracks where Cloud and Talon laid in rest. With her hand deep in the feathers of his elbow, or gripping his hand and using his body as a living cloak to protect herself from the songs of the hundreds around her. Dragging him into this corner or that to caress him in private places. Burying her face into the thick ruff around his neck or chest and hiding when the unblinking eye of the cameras, or the press of their people, became too much.
He held her, or took care of her other needs, as she commanded him. Each touch magical, painful, wonderful in it's own way.
She would not stay. She never asked his name. He repeated over and over, every touch, every gaze, that he should feel nothing for her. But... ah. There is no point is lying. It was useless to lie to himself, pathetic to lie to others. Just as she did not ask him his name, she also did not ask if he loved her. A small salvation.
With his construction duties completed, his bunk mates were happy to assist him with the minor issues that needed the occasional bit of correction. Truthfully, his duty had reduced to testing and manufacturing secondary replacement parts. The vast majority of the construction team now had nothing to do, with the ship finished. Nothing but celebrate and prepare for the first suborbital test.
The fourth day had been nothing but celebration. Culminating in yet more speeches. Speeches that, thanks to Numididae's teasing comment the first day, he knew they would announce who would be on the ship. Small meals, miniature delicacies from around the planet, were served between each pompous declaration. Video recorded and archived for the day they could be broadcast around the planet for all to watch. Cygnus felt both honored and embarrassed to be standing behind Numididae's seat. Whenever a recorder passed by their place at the long, one-sided table, he sucked in his gut and stared resolutely ahead. Attempting to look like the well-groomed, mature Peir he pretended to be.
Numididae caught his gaze whenever a servant brought her a new delicacy, or another stood to declare some new promise of peace. As he stood as guard for her, he did not have a place to eat. His whole sustenance the tilt of her eyes in a private smile.
This meal had been set outside, oddly enough, on the launch pad. It took his exhausted mind a long moment to realize that it was probably for visual impact for those damn recorders. Cloud and Talon stood silent honor guard behind them, so that the camera would catch a glimpse of their sleek white bodies behind the combined royalty as they panned back and forth. Hundreds of men, and a couple women, sat in neat rows before them, a cheering audience when needed, sharing the dainty morsels passed down each long, low table. All of the scientists, engineers, military, pilots, division heads, diplomats. Everyone involved with the project. Even ones who had been involved on the continent, whom he'd never seen.
After the first round of speeches were completed, the Eule Queen requested a demonstration of the two behemoths behind them, causing a mad scramble to find pilots, fuel, runners.
"She has been planning this the whole time," Numididae murmured. "Watch her."
He did, keeping Numididae's composed, placid expression in the corner of his eye.
She set up such a chaos with her declaration, then questioned why the pilots for Dart were not called. Certainly they were on hand, no? What better way to test if they would, in fact, be capable of commanding the Dart if they could not handle the older ships.
"She knows that Eule's people are the only ones capable of piloting Talon, doesn't she?"
Numididae let the slow blink of her inner eyelid answer for her.
Politics. If he ever needed a reason to stay in his issued coveralls, it sat on the short throne at the end of the long table.
"Please retrieve a bottle of wine from my trunks, engineer. And one of my cloaks, as well. I find the wind chilly."
"Yes, my princess," he whispered, bowing away. He wondered why she would send him away, when he'd been acting as her buffer all day, but... hell. Higher rank, female, and fickle Aquila to boot. What did he know of any of them?
Cygnus ended up asking for directions from one of the male attendants. After a sour look, he'd been directed to go to the landskimmers in the docking bay. On the other side of the complex. Of course.
After a healthy walk, he made his way to the main bay. A cavern of a room, used to bring in the larger supplies. Like the hundred cubit long steel support struts. Or the ton upon ton of ceramic that had been delivered over the years.
He traveled up and down the line, looking for the ship with Aquila's seal. The speared fish.
"Ah, there you are."
He had to explain to the men guarding the entrance, but they let him in after a short discussion. One entered with him, intent on keeping him from stealing goddess-knows-what, and led him straight to Numididae's room.
"I'll wait here," the man said, all ruddy bravado.
"As you will," Cygnus replied and ducked through the low doorway.
The room inside demonstrated rich, simple elegance. Various shades of red silk draped the walls, the numerous cushions on the floor and bed. Occasional touches of gold or silver, but nothing to eye-glaringly garish as her Queen. Not his place to approve or spurn her tastes but at least it wasn't opulent in the extreme.
He made his way over to the chest without much of a pause. It'd taken long enough to get here anyway, and curiosity over the crew tickled in his nose. He didn't want to miss that announcement.
He flipped open the catch, finding a thick layer of yet more red silk. He wondered a moment if her family might be one of the major manufacturers of the stuff.
Mindful of his calloused hands, he dug under the layer of fabric, lifting it up and setting it on her bed. There would be no way he could afford replacing any of it if he put a run in the delicate fabric.
Cygnus turned back, expecting another layer, or her bottles of wine. It would certainly make sense to store them between layers of silk, so they wouldn't be jarred too much.
Twenty-one.
His fingers hovered. His eyes counting, but not comprehending.
Creamy. Smooth.
Cygnus swallowed spasmodically. A little ache starting up in his throat.
Perfect little curves. Each and every one of them.
His thumb traced one with reverence.
Eggs.
Twenty-one little eggs.
"Twelve winds," he cursed. His analytical mind jumping into overdrive.
He touched each with the sensitive, featherless spot at the base of his wrist. All about the same temperature, a little cool compared to his skin. He closed his inner eyelids, pulling up every memory his father had passed to him, while he did so.
Heat. They needed to be warmer.
He checked the chest, looking for any heating unit. None. It wasn't designed to be an egg box. Then... Numididae had not planned for this. Wonderful.
He thought again, comparing the temperature he sensed to his own body and that of the air. Considering the thick swaddling she used, and how cool they felt, it meant she'd... well, had them, just that morning. It would not hurt them to become a little cool the first couple days, but they needed to be turned. And then kept still.
If they traveled in the landskimmer back to her nation, the long journey would...
He blinked. His fingers had automatically started the slow process of turning each egg just so, only to be interrupted by the sensation of thick, expensive paper tucked between them.
"If I were a better woman," he read silently. "I would have told you to prepare a nest in your own quarters. They are yours, to do with as you will."
The letter had not been signed, but the paper held the same seal as the skimmer.
He folded the paper and tucked it away in an inner pocket of his jumper.
His fingers returned to the slow act of turning them. He'd helped raise three of his father's clutches as he grew. The act familiar and calming, even as a million voices screamed in his mind.
Children. Oh goddess. Children.
His eyes flicked up to the door, wondering how the hell he'd get them past the guard. The letter felt heavy in his inner pocket, sitting against his heart. Too private to share with anyone.
Cygnus rubbed his face, then sighed with an idea. Goddess let it work.
He finished and tucked the silk back into the wooden chest. He'd let out too much warmth already.
"Hey, guard. Help me get this chest out."
"What?" The man opened the door.
"Don't ask me to explain, because I couldn't even if I tried. She said, 'I want the wine in the chest, and my robes in the chest.' It's full of wine and robes. Look at these hands! If I try to carry all this expensive cloth," he gestured to the open lid and the fabric within. "I'm just going to rip it to shreds. You've got to help me. Last thing I want to do is insult-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Come on. You get that side, I'll take this."
Thankfully, the man had been careful of every corner, every bump, setting down his side as if it might very well explode if it wasn't treated properly. Well trained guards.
He pulled a little hand trolley out, used to this sort of activity.
"Do you need to guard the case on the way back to the festivities?"
"No. We remain with the skimmer."
"Ah. Then I will return the trolley with the chest later then, if that is acceptable."
He nodded and waved Cygnus off with practiced ease.
Back in the long hallway towards the dormitories Cygnus breathed a sigh of relief. Not a very long one, but escaping with his children was...
His children.
Goddess.
He ignored the occasional curious glance as he pushed a chest that obviously wasn't his right into his shared bunk.
"Hey, Cygnus. Have you seen this periodical? There's an interesting new hypothesis on the hybridization of that strain of bacteria that Avis keeps talking about."
"I've got more important things to think about right now," he replied. He couldn't help but puff up his chest and show off.
"Twenty-one! Congratulations my brother!"
Coroba leapt to his feet and enveloped his nestmate in a warm hug.
"We had a little bet going, actually," his brother admitted with a grin. "Avis kept saying that she was dragging you along to mess with you. I'm glad he was wrong."
"Whatever am I going to do?" Cygnus let himself succumb to the weight of "what-ifs" running through his mind. He flopped down onto his bunk, staring into the open chest.
"Well, I'll go get you a nest box, to start with. No way you can do it the traditional way, and keep up with your duties."
"No, no, your right. But we have no facilities for-"
Coroba blew a rude note out. "What did father say each hatching, hm? Never count them until you see the beaks."
"You just counted them."
"As did you," his brother replied with a grin. "Twenty-one! What a brother I have!"
Cygnus groaned.
"What am I going to do with them when they hatch? I will still be here. Working on the Dart, or her next sister after her. I can't give up my position here!"
"Father will help," Coroba assured, a hand on Cygnus' shoulder. "I will too. Father has one of the best hatch rates of anyone we know, hm? And he taught us well, did he not?"
"He did," Cygnus admitted.
"I will go find a nest box. I'm sure there's one in some supply closet somewhere, knowing our requisition officer. Tuck them under your feathers for now and give them your first song. I'll be back as soon as I can."
His brother gave him another strong clap on the shoulder and headed off with a cheerful whistle in his lungs.
Cygnus sat and stared at the little ones.
He knew they needed their first song. A little nap, curled up in the bunk with them tucked up close to his side, tantalized him. At least covering them, for now...
His arms wouldn't move. No song filled his lungs. He simply stared.
The floor rumbled. The door shook in its frame.
Cygnus stared.
"I found one! A little dusty, had to wash it out. Let me get it warming."
A gentle hand shook him a few minutes later.
"It's ready. Snap out of it. They need caring for. The rest will come later."
He hummed a little tune his father had taught them while they were small as he lifted each and placed them in the ceramic divots in the nest box. Coroba hovered at his side, picking up the tune whenever he faltered, but didn't move to touch the new eggs.
Four slots remained empty.
"At least you weren't too manly, eh? If you had twenty-six, you'd be carrying one around in your pocket while you worked on your fool engine."
"Or made you carry it while working on the shields," Cygnus countered.
He closed the ceramic lid. His fingers didn't seem to want to let it go.
"You should go back out there. Cloud just took off. They're going to have her glide all the way down, then set Talon off."
"The rumbling I heard."
"Yeah. Cloud's engines didn't want to start up, so we did a quick live-jump from Dart. That was exciting. Especially since they're still keeping the new girl covered until the 'big reveal' tomorrow."
"You don't want to go watch the pilot throw up in Talon?"
Coroba smiled. "You know me. I'm not one for crowds. Watching on the vid screen is good enough for me. I will stay and guard your children, my brother. All of our visitors will be gone by sundown tomorrow." He gave Cygnus a gentle shove towards the door.
Robotically, Cygnus collected the trolley and chest and made his way back outside.
The head table had been moved off to the side, out of the way, so that the teams had access to the ships. Indeed, Cloud was not in her place, Talon, moved farther down the runway so that her... slightly unpredictable takeoff would be less disruptive to the guests.
Cygnus hadn't realized he still pushed the chest until he saw Numididae lurch to her feet, eyes wide and back stiff. He swallowed hard and pushed on.
"I did not know which cloak you might like. Your security team suggested I bring your chest so that you might pick."
A few eyes turned to them. Her eyes widened in fright. He tried to nod without nodding.
"All has been taken care of," he said, when she did not seem to calm.
This raised more eyes, but he put the trolley down.
"Ah, you're kind are so... coarse. It is refreshing." Her hands shook a little as she opened the lid.
"The hazard of requesting a simple engineer to escort you about our facility," Cygnus responded, when his own Queen stood up at the unintended offense.
"Perhaps you should ask one of your cold Aquila captains for the honor instead," she said, her yellow eyes flashing in anger.
Numididae plucked out a thick, quilted cloak and wrapped herself in it. Another high collar, and now not even her fingertips showed for all the fabric.
"Perhaps I should. Please return the chest to my room, Peir."
He bowed a little, first to his Queen, then his princess. His mate. The mother of his children.
He took his time returning the chest. The guards did not even make eye contact, just opened the chest to ensure he had not place anything dangerous inside, then waved him off. They would put it away.
None but Numididae noticed when he returned to his spot at her back. Even that was nothing more than a glance in his direction. Talon had already taken off. But then, he'd been at their test flights. Seeing those gorgeous ladies take to the winds was nothing new, nothing spectacular.
The gift he'd just been given was.
She continued to treat him as a servant the rest of the meal, speeches, landing, songs. More and more wine flowed around the tables, until people started disappearing under them.
"I have had enough. Escort me out."
He bowed, offering his elbow yet again. The fingers touching him hesitated, sitting over the thick surface of his feathers rather than digging in for once.
He felt a very real pain at the loss of contact.
Inside the main hangar, the quiet felt like an uncomfortable fog between them.
"We are leaving tomorrow."
"I know."
"I wish to see Dart's bridge one last time."
"My princess," Cygnus responding. Chastising and obeying with the same breath.
"Take me there," she commanded cooly.
He sighed and led her to the familiar ladder.
Her steps slowed to an agonizing pace with the additional silk, each footstep a short tap as her metal shoes barely passed one another, the tips of her toes not even brushing the leading edge of the fabric of her robe. This time Cygnus climbed up with her, hovering a hand behind her; ready to catch and support her if necessary, even if she didn't know it.
They climbed to the bridge in silence. Cygnus flicked on a few of the status panels, supplying just enough light to see each other. The hanger dark outside the cubit thick glass windows.
"I will not give you special treatment," Numididae declared.
"I did not ask for any. We have the same customs your people have, with the eggs."
She huffed and looked away angrily.
"It might have been nice to know it was your time, before hand."
"And what, you would have turned me down?"
"Most likely not," he replied carefully. He reached for her slim waist, thankful she did not pull away. Embracing stiff, cold silk when his fingertips ached to delve into the warmth of her feathers. "You have given me a gift no other has offered."
She made a disgusted noise. But quieter now. "If you knew what your face does for a woman, you'd have other offers." Her fingers reached up to trace his nose in a now familiar gesture. "But I suppose that would require you leaving this lonely little island on occasion too."
He sighed into her hands. "Duty, my princess. Duty. The chance to get our people into space is too great a one to be squandered."
She nuzzled him, tucking herself close.
He'd never known a female to stay long after laying. His father might have been an exception; that one female visited him regularly during her cycles. But, every time, she laid in his nest, stayed long enough to listen to his first song, then went on her way. Her own duties, and the search for other males for the next cycle. He'd never gotten his father to admit that one might have been his mother, but he'd grown up with that one female coming through every other year or so. And that look she would give him. A long one as she first stepped over their threshold each time. Then the little smile and the pat on his head.
"They are safe?"
He let out a shuddering sigh. Did other males hear such concern? Breaking centuries old tradition to inquire...
"They are." His fingers traced a gentle trail down the back of her neck. "Their father comes from a long line of champion hatchers. I have four nest-siblings, and even helped raise two other clutches."
"...Any sisters?" she asked in a whisper.
"No," he admitted sadly. "Do you have..." He swallowed, not knowing if the question were too personal. "Sisters? Daughters?"
"No daughters, yet. Two sisters. Different fathers."
"You are quite fortunate."
He felt her nod.
Her fingers began exploring his body again, slow and curious when before she'd been demanding. He did not deny her.
"Up! Get up, Cygnus!"
He groaned and swatted at his brother. Between Numididae's request and his children's needs, sleep had eluded him for most of the night.
"Up, damn you! You're on the test flight!"
"What!?"
He blinked up blearily.
"Didn't you know? They announced your name with everyone else. You're the secondary engineer!"
"Why... how... damn. I can't do it!"
"You will do it! It's too amazing an opportunity!"
They gripped each others shoulders, staring into identical eyes.
"Go for me. They won't notice."
He got a gentle whack to the side of his head.
"When I can't turn the engine on, they'll notice. You're not turning it down."
"But I can't! Not now! What if-"
Coroba's eyes rolled dramatically. "You have been the one doing all the research on safety systems. Of course you're going to be the one they're going to call for it. Just go on the test flight. She'll barely be in the sky. A little hop over the atmosphere, then back to solid ground. You'll be fine."
"But... the eggs."
His brother's hands tightened into a vice grip.
"You will let me care for them," he stated matter-of-factly. "Turn them before you go. You will be back before the next one is needed. I know your song. I will care for them if anything happens."
"Or you could just send them to Father. He might have more patience for it anyway."
They smiled at one another.
"Go. Get your uniform on. They're going to have a new one ready for you at Supply."
Cygnus scrubbed his face and turned his children. The need to rush warring with the instinctual need to sing to them as he worked.
"Okay, hurry now," Coroba said, mock-offense with his sibling. "I will be watching the video from here, so don't expect me out on the launch ground."
Cygnus nodded one final time. So much he wanted to say, to do. He sighed and ran for Supply instead, picking up his new uniform from the disgusted officer behind the desk. Everyone else had picked theirs up the previous night. He ducked into an alcove to tear off his old jumper for the new one, taking a moment to run fingertips over the elaborate embroidery at his shoulder, before running again for the ship.
Hangar empty. Echoes of the crowds outside. He ran for the doors.
Cygnus leaned his hands on his knees, puffing in and out as he tried to catch his breath. Last one in the line. The others laughed. The nearest clapped him on the shoulders. He swallowed and straightened. Across a sea of grinning faces, he could just make out the new table set up for the delegates. Each in their place. Cameras rolling.
Numididae's hand to her mouth.
He puffed himself as best he could while the speeches continued, ignorant of his late arrival. He held himself tall, lidding his eyes in an approximation of the aristocrat's gaze, as the cameras panned over the crew.
Had she known? Had she pulled rank to get him posted on the Dart? Why would she?
Sluggishly, one idea after another swam through his mind, as the crew filed into the ship. Each to their own stations.
They went through the startup sequence with the efficiency of familiarity. The other two Peir engineers did not comment on the tight grip Cygnus kept on the restraining straps while they experienced a very dramatic take off.
He hadn't expected the sheer pressure on his body at the ascension. Didn't even try to keep from praying with every breath.
"Just get me back to ground, Dart," he whispered to the ship. The frame seemed to shiver in response.
The flight, less than twenty minutes long, took eternity. His blood sang to him, telling him he would die with each rapid beat.
Dart landed in the shadow of where she took off without a hiccup.
Cygnus kissed an engine pressure gauge without a hint of embarrassment.
His blood still screamed as they stepped back onto solid ground as a single unit. It screamed as he accepted honors from his Queen. He stood as if petrified as the camera swept past him again, then, the songs began, and he was dragged off to dine, to drink, with his new crew.
He gazed about for his princess, but couldn't catch a single glimpse of her. Each of the royal members took their leave as the night wore on until no one sat up there at that long, one-sided table.
Someone whispered to him that Coroba wanted to see him in their room. He left in a daze.
Coroba grinned like an idiot, hugging his brother and congratulating him once again.
"Time to turn them, brother. Then get some sleep. You look ready to fall over. Time for a meal for me!"
Just like that, Cygnus was left alone in his room, alone in his life, with his twenty-one children.
A week later, some modifications made to Cygnus' bunk in the ship, the Dart began her maiden voyage.
He couldn't help but stare out the window as they passed their neighbor planet. His finger stroking the side of his nose, as he thought of Numididae, somewhere on that colorful marble, staring out at this little speck of light in the dark.
His crew knew about the eggs. Tradition meant they didn't pry into where they came from, but everyone had seen him at Numididae's side. Which meant he received longer than scheduled shifts and angry glares from the Aquila captain and second. More often than not, one of the other Peirs would slip into engineering and relieve him to tend to his turning duties. Even the little Eule navigator began assisting, sending alerts through the computer to warn engineering when one of the pilots decided it was time to "stretch their legs" and roam the halls.
Within a few days they fell into an awkward, but manageable routine. As long as Cygnus took his meals in his bunk and never brought reports up to the bridge.
It had been during one of those quiet moments that a deep shudder wracked Dart's body. Alarms went off.
Cygnus checked his nest box, the industrial ceramic held of course, but he couldn't help but be nervous. He tied the lid back in place and shoved himself down the passageway to the engines.
"What's happening?" he asked. Alarms blared, filling the room with light and sound.
"No idea," Sialis, the younger of the other two engineers said. "We got an all stop from the bridge, then everything started cutting off. There's a containment leak."
Cygnus' fingers flew over the controls.
"Damn. I need to get out there-"
"No! I'll go."
Cygnus stared at his fellow Peir. They both knew the younger Peir got space-sick at the slightest provocation. Cygnus gritted his teeth. Duty screamed.
"No arguments. Stay in here, give me readings."
He swallowed his guilt as the man pushed past him and to the cargo bay.
He cursed seven times. "Radio on?"
"Yes, I'm just getting the chemical welder."
"It's our coolant tank."
"I know."
"Hurry."
Cygnus stared as the levels continued to drop. Soon, it wouldn't matter who went out into space.
Another deep shudder shook the ship around him. A surreal experience, since he touched nothing, and thus wasn't effected.
"Can you see what happened?"
"Weapons fire. I'm putting a temp gel on quick. Tell me where it settles."
Cygnus opened up all the internal valves, flooding as much of the internal systems with coolant as he could, saving as much fluid as possible from floating out into space by having as much of it "in use" as possible. He watched the engine's temperature reading fall past where it could accurately read. As long as it stayed above absolute zero, its own internal reactions would be able to pull it back up. Eventually. But for now, the coolant tank levels kept draining. Farther... farther... two thirds...one half... one third. It stopped.
"You got it."
"It's temp at best. The welder malfunctioned. I used so much sealant gel, I think it's solidifying the coolant."
Cygnus tapped a gauge. "Can't tell yet. Get back inside."
"Just a minute, I think I see-"
Static.
"Sialis? SIALIS! Damn it! Come in!"
More static.
Cygnus pulled air through his lungs. He needed external sensors. He radioed the bridge. No response. Labs. Same.
With a frustrated shove he pushed off for the bridge. Needed to know what the hell was going on before he could decide how to best handle the repairs.
His fingers itched to pull him into his quarters. Another good shake rattled the ship, this time bad enough to bounce him off the walls. His hands clenched. He kept going to the bridge.
Screaming. Blood. Chaos.
The Aquila second shouted orders. The captain sprawled out bonelessly behind him. Holocommand panels glowed, flickered, alert warnings going off everywhere.
"I need maneuverability! Where are my thrusters!"
"Sir, I had to take the engines down."
"WHAT!?"
Cygnus refused to flinch.
"There's a break in the radio lines down to engineering. We took a bad hit down there. Lost most of our coolant. I had to flood what we had left into the system, otherwise it'd flare up."
"I thought you said that engine would never go off!" Fists grabbed his collar, shook him and the second-in-command, as they floated and bounced between panels.
"They aren't off. Just too cold to give thrusters."
"Get them up, NOW! We need to escape!" Another deep shudder, as Dart emphasized the point.
"Sir, it's-"
"I don't care how dangerous it is! Do it! Or we're all dead!"
With that he shoved Cygnus back the way he came.
"Get me secondary communication," Cygnus ordered in turn. "Otherwise I won't know when you want what speed I can get you."
"Ell. Get it."
"Yes, sir," the little Raaf squeaked.
Cygnus flung himself back down into the bowels of the ship, stopping himself with a quick grab to a strap and a jarring halt to the momentum.
He flinched when he realized what he hadn't said about Sialis.
As he fought with Dart on every level, Ell slipped in behind him, a long spool of wire in one hand.
"Old fashioned, but it'll do the job."
"Thank you. I... before I kick on the thrusters, get back up there and do a sensor sweep for me."
"Cygnus, sir, I can't-"
"Sialis went out to seal our tanks. His radio cut off."
Ell cursed in his quick dialect. "Captain's going to kill me."
Cygnus didn't tell him he thought the captain was already beyond that.
He clambered back up while Cygnus hardwired his radio with shaking hands. Static. Static. Static. Flipped wires. Screamed orders echoed out. Cygnus shouted back. Started pumping coolant out of the engine. Hoped the seal would hold the remaining. Ignoring the Aquila's insane screaming to vent everything into space and get the engines fired.
He tapped, yelled, pleaded with Dart. Two percent. Four percent. Eight percent.
Thirteen percent of capacitors hot enough to activate. He threw on thrusters before shouting that he had them.
Everything lurched up, then off to the side as the Second rerouted thruster power where he needed.
"Need more thrusters!"
"We're heating up sir. I'll give you what I got as I get it."
Nineteen percent. Twenty seven percent.
Cygnus opened all the thruster valves. Dart whined around him. The comfortable thrum of the engines long gone. The incessant wail starting to build up.
"Shields are out. Divert energy to that department when you hit forty-five."
Cygnus gulped, hands already skimming those controls.
"You got it."
"...what?"
"Fifty-six percent and climbing. Fire up shields now. We're getting hot down here."
Fast. Too fast. Exponentially fast.
Worst-case scenario diagrams played in his minds eye, calculations plugging in current data.
"We need to jump sir. Now."
"We don't have trajectory. Do not initialize the drive engine. Do you hear me, you cross species pervert?"
"No choice. Get shields up."
Seventy-two. He started rerouting the power through the interflux matrixes to the drive engine. Untested. The reason for this whole catastrophe. This secondary engine sucked up the heat greedily, giving them time. Seconds at most, but it brought the reactor back into the sixties.
"Scanner, Ell?" Cygnus reminded. His mind focused.
"...I'm sorry, sir."
Cygnus spared a moment to swallow a quick thanks.
"Shields. Need them up. Get your trajectory set."
"I said no! You fucking Peir!"
"It's that or blow up, Captain."
The silence on the bridge rang in his ears.
Another blast slammed Cygnus into the coolant gauge. He spat out a tooth and cursed as he wrestled three jobs at once.
"Captain? We're four seconds from our jump. Now or never."
Another hit. Something blew behind him. A bright orange burst flooded the room. Fire consumed him.
His hands gripped the controls, his body tossed like a rag doll. Darkness. Screaming. Silence.
Coolant flooded the room; the chemicals dousing the flames moments before they began to eat at his flesh. He could taste it in his mouth. Sickly sweet.
He pried his hands away from the switches. Skin peeled away. He reached for the controls he needed by feel.
Open valves. Dump fluids. Divert all energy to the engine.
Alarms filled his ears as the last of the fluid drained away with a gurgle. He threw up the coolant in his lungs.
The radio burbled in a tinny voice. Screaming.
He pried his eyes open. Tried to not see the silhouette his hands left on the controls. The edge of charred flesh leaving raised black outlines.
"Jump prep," he coughed out. Hoping the new captain heard. Hoping Ell had gotten the shields up. Hoping someone had put in a heading.
Alarms blared one-hundred-fifteen percent over and over as he punched the control for the drive to activate.
Too much power. No containment. No venting.
Cygnus screamed as he felt the lick of heat at his back.
Had to stay at his post. Had to get the ship to safety. Had to keep his children safe...
His eyes flicked to the open door.
Open!?
No... no no no.
Breach of containment. The seals! Seals should be closed.
He stumbled.
Gravity? No. Forward momentum.
He fought against the pressure, climbing. Hallway clear. None of the seals closed.
Duty.
Dual duty. He snarled at himself.
If he couldn't get the ship to safety...
He fought to climb up to the bridge. Skin crackling. Lungs burning. Burning.
He gasped.
No. Not fire. Loss of containment.
He fought the last few cubits, dreading what he would find. Knowing what he would find.
One seal shut.
He dragged himself up to the small porthole.
Shot out. Sheared off from malfunctioning shields. Fire flickering, burning in and out as it ate the rest of the oxygen, fed by the output meant for the shields.
No more bridge.
His grip slipped at the sheer horror. Fell back. Slid down the hall.
Sailis. Ell. Rlif. Even the bastard Vrga. The others, somewhere in the ship.
Protocol after protocol slipped in and out of his mind.
Fire licked at his face. Lungs began to spasm with the smoke and heat.
Close your eyes.
He did.
Stop, and think.
It hurts.
It won't for long.
Get up. Get up. Turn the jump engine off. Jettison the hot core. Send out the distress signal.
He couldn't get to his feet. Fell twice. Hit his head attempting.
Slow down.
Can't get any slower.
On hands and knees, he shuffled back to the engines. The drive shut down with a scream and a lurch. Null-gravity returned, the clear space he'd been using to breathe gone in a moment as the flame floated without control.
He struggled to find the physical release valves to jettison the molten core. His hands had become so still... tactile sensation muddied. Had to feel muscle pressure in his arms and shoulders to figure out how far apart his hands were.
There. That must be it. Pull it, hard.
He did. He put his feet on either side of it. Cried and screamed and cursed. But everything had fused. Lost. No chance...
The seals, damn you.
He released his hands, leg pressure pushing him towards where he hoped the door was.
The curve of the bulkhead slammed into his shoulder. He flung himself around it. Fingers scrambling blindly for the manual release.
The flames whooshed in with him as the doors closed. Heard it snapping and crackling, peeling surfaces around him.
Vent atmosphere.
His fingers pulled one panel after another. Deep into Dart's ruined body.
High pitched whistling as the atmosphere shoved itself into space, taking the flame with it. Cold wrapped itself around Cygnus' body. Pulled him. Called in seductive voices. Just need to let out a little more. Little more.
He shook himself, slammed the valves closed. Gasped in pain. Nothing to gasp.
Distress call. Four panels over, other side.
He blinked his eyes. Everything filmed over red. Inner eyelids couldn't open.
Two buttons over, idiot. Come on. There. It'll go as long as the core is still stuck in the ship. Get into your quarters. Close the door quick behind you. Not much oxygen left.
His eyes shut again as he worked his way the last few cubits. Last few miles.
Whoever closed the door behind him was quick about it.
He sucked in precious air. Screamed out at the incomprehensible pain. Screamed in as well for good measure.
Sing to your eggs, son.
He grasped around him, trying to find the comforting craggy surface.
His body curled around the box the moment he found it.
I'll start the song, but you'll have to finish it for me, the sound of his father's treasured voice echoed within his mind.
Cygnus could barely breathe, but he mouthed the words until darkness enveloped his mind.