"And what is dat?" the little Human boy queried as he raised a hand to point at the approaching squadron of silvery craft. His enunciation was still inexpert, the unsteady speech of a child who was barely more than a toddler. He was propped up on a man's shoulders. The two's hair was a very similar shade of brunette.
"Those are Ksarti Blazers," the blonde woman next to them said. "In a few moments, you'll see the fire."
"Salty bases…?" the boy repeated uncertainly.
The five jet planes were flying in a pentagon formation, their bellies pointed inward. As they reached a position above the assembled crowd, they turned so that they all faced upward, performing a hard brake maneuver. As they slowed down, the planes' engines suddenly started spewing spectacular flame jets as they were propelled upward. Together, they formed a singular loud torch trailing behind them.
A cheer could be heard throughout the sea of people, many of whom sat on the tan khachwa grass. It was a pleasant day on Tarn-Vedra, with only the occasional puffy white cloud as the afternoon sun's rays warmed their backs. There were all sorts: one could see quite a few Humans like this family, some of them sporting bone blades on their forearms ― the only way to tell apart a Nietzschean ― or the hallmark facial ridge lines of the Inari. Similar to them were the gray-skinned Perseids, also amply present here. These two species were the most numerous non-native species of the capital planet of the Systems Commonwealth, the intergalactic state that spanned three major galaxies and their satellites.
There were others here too, probably visitors from other star systems. Smartly dressed brown and greenish Chichin; bluish, bald Umbrites with pincers on their cheeks and sunglasses over their eyes; even a few Kalderans, likewise goggled, whose eyes were ill-suited for the glare of daylight. And others.
The native Vedrans were very much in the minority here; some of the bright blue, ornately dressed and decorated quadrupeds could be seen here and there, but apparently there wasn't that much interest in this sort of event among their people.
An enthusiastic voice boomed, as the Chichin master of ceremonies announced the next attraction. They could see a strangely shaped ship approaching; its bronze hull reflected the sun's light.
"Fan… dat's the bug people, right?" the boy asked the woman.
"Yes, dear. This is an old Than freighter. It moved things from space to planets and back."
As it neared to pass by them, they could see that its bow section was raised compared to the stern. Its engines made an odd wobbling sound. Then, to the delight of many, it began to rapidly rotate around its axis, releasing a cloud of golden, glittering smoke that hung in the air.
"Look!" the boy pointed.
"It's pretty," a dainty, cheerful voice came from his left.
The boy tore his gaze from the shiny spectacle above, noticing that there was a very purple young woman there. Her ears were pointy.
"Ooo," the boy mumbled. He held out a hand, touching her pale violet spiky hair.
"Hi to you too," she singsonged, flashing him a smile.
"Hi," the boy said, eyes round.
"First time here?" the man who held the boy on his shoulders had turned partway to consider the young woman.
"In a sense," she replied. "How'd you guess?"
"Well, to be frank, I've never seen anyone quite like you here before," he said genially. "There's many kinds of Human around these parts, but none so…"
"Purple?" she suggested with a grin.
"That too," the man chuckled.
The boy, with a thoughtful look in his eyes, put forth his hand again… only to touch a long, pointy ear.
"Dylan!" the Human woman chided him.
"Oof, sorry about that" the man said as he gently pulled back the boy's extended arm.
"It's fine," the purple stranger assured them. "He's just curious… aren't you?" she addressed Dylan, the little boy. He made a series of quick nods.
Then his mouth rounded into an 'O' and he pointed at something downwards. The purple woman followed his gaze, then grinned.
Wide-eyed, Dylan followed the movements of her… tail… as it approached him. He seemed unsure of how to feel about that, until she suddenly poked his hand with the tail's pointy tip, giggling, then quickly retracted it. Then she did it again, and he began to laugh in delight as he unsuccessfully kept trying to catch her tail.
"Oi!" his dad said, clearly feeling the resulting constant fidgeting on his shoulders.
Then, his shoulder was tapped as Dylan's mom indicated something in the distance; it was a trio of sleek craft.
"Are those… slipfighters?" the man asked.
"Yep, AF/A-29 Phoenix," his wife said. "The High Guard's in-atmosphere fighter. Primary air support for the Lancers. Two PDLs, three ELS tubes, one pilot and one passenger seat. And of course, fancy lights in their tusks!"
"So, High Guard's come to impress us," Dylan's dad said with a hint of sardonicism. "Always on the hunt for recruits and funding."
"You don't seem like you'll let yourself be impressed," the purple woman noted.
"Well… we haven't had a war in twelve hundred years," he replied. "Yet we have the most massive fleet in three galaxies. What's the use of such a huge resource sink, if most of it barely has anything to do?"
The young-looking visitor had no answer to that.
The three gray fighter craft started to spin around a common axis, then began to let out colored streaks behind them as they flew past the crowd, their sound very distinctive. Behind them, the red, yellow and green smoke streams slowly dissipated. But then they turned to rise vertically, twisting and turning until they made a tricolor symbol in the sky.
The Chichin announcer explained that this meant "GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXIES, EVER VIGILANT," written in Siktarri, the primary language of official Vedran communication.
What followed was a series of other High Guard atmosphere-capable craft. A bulky AM9D Ung Tae dropship ponderously flew above, accompanied by a squadron of defensive drones. Its contingent of Lancer infantry were attached to the outer hull, waving to the public.
Afterwards, a squadron of eight Light Patrol Craft made quite a racket as they rapidly maneuvered and made spectacular fireworks as they shot pyrotechnic "offensive" and "defensive" missiles they had been outfitted with for the special occasion. The missiles' trails made dazzling patterns in the air; the sparkly, multicolored explosions even more so.
And during some of the small pauses available, Dylan's mom kept rattling off fun facts about the vessels above them.
"You seem to know a lot about all these ships," the purple woman noted when the noise from the fireworks finally subsided a bit.
"Well, I'm a shuttle pilot," Dylan's mother responded. "And I've been an enthusiast for anything flying for as long as I can remember."
"When I grow up," Dylan interjected enthusiastically, "I'm gonna fly jus' like mommy!"
"I'm sure you will," the purple girl smiled at him.
"I'm gonna be captain! Of a big ship! And I'm gonna visit all the stars!" the boy tried to encompass all of the sky by waving his arms around.
"I believe in you, Dylan," the young woman said softly, his parents unable to hear it over the din.
For the next several minutes, they watched as a squadron of Nietzschean Home Guard Garuda-class fighters demonstrated their piloting skills by taking some breathtaking maneuvers. Some of the onlookers gasped when they saw how close the vessels could get; it seemed like they would crash into each other, yet they didn't.
Suddenly, the purple woman averted her gaze to consider the child next to her. "You want to tell me something, don't you?" she asked him with a smile.
"Mom an' dad an' I live in Wishna-Town," Dylan told her importantly. "You live in Wishna-Town, too?" he queried, referring to Vishna-Tarn, the capital city.
"No, I'm not from there," the young woman said. "Or from this planet, really."
"You live on planet faaar away?" the boy asked, extending his arms in opposite directions to indicate a very long distance.
"Not that far," she chuckled. "Actually, I'm from over there," she turned on her heels and pointed an arm out to some spot in the sky behind them. The boy's father turned so he and Dylan could see where her finger was indicating. Holding a hand over his eyes, the man chuckled when he realized that she meant Tarn-Vedra's sun.
"But dat's the sun," the boy said in disbelief. "The sun's too hot, mom says dat it will burn you!"
"That's right," his mother said cheerfully. "It's very hot there."
"Maybe my skin doesn't burn up," the purple woman suggested playfully. "And I just soak up the sun, like a plant. I don't need to eat, I just sunbathe all day long."
"Plant…" the boy seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Daddy…"
"Yes, son?"
Then, seriously, Dylan asked, "Can we plant the lady in your garden?"
His father guffawed, shaking the boy on top of him. "What?!" he said in between rolls of laughter. "Dylan!" his mother protested again, though she couldn't quite keep the mirth out of her voice.
"She said she's like plant," Dylan responded. He seemed to think that it explained everything.
"You can't plant people, son," his dad explained. "Only actual plants."
"Oh," Dylan seemed dejected at that.
"You want to keep me with you?" the purple woman asked, beaming at the boy.
He nodded enthusiastically.
She softly squeezed his hand. "I wish I could stay, sweetie. But I'll have to go soon," she told him.
Dylan looked sad. "You go home to the sun?"
Now it was her turn to nod, this time bittersweetly.
"Well, before you leave for our fair lamp in the sky," Dylan's father began, "I suggest you at least visit the Imperial Gardens. Would be a shame to have come to Tarn-Vedra and not seen them."
"He's just fishing for admirers of his work," Dylan's mom poked at him.
"As if there's anything wrong with that," he retorted with mock-heat. "I only happen to tend to the best collection of flora in the known universe!"
"So, you work in the Imperial Gardens?" the purple woman asked.
"That's right," he confirmed. "I'm not much for ship life… or big crowds, really. Most days after I leave home, it's just me, my plants, and a few fellow gardeners. And I get to be outside all day, in the fresh air and the sun. Just the way I like it."
"Careful, he'll try to recruit you into the tree-hugging life," his wife quipped.
"No need. It sells itself," Dylan's father claimed confidently. "Just give it a try, and you'll be hooked for life," he winked at the purple girl.
"Thanks, but I'll stick with my Pelican and the big black up there," Dylan's mother responded in lieu of the other woman.
"Why not both?" the pointy-eared and pointy-tailed visitor queried. "There are many ships with gardens. You could live aboard one."
"Oh, we sure considered it," the Human woman told her. "But in the end… we were having a child, and we thought this here would be a more… stable environment. So Tarn-Vedra it was," she explained.
"I see."
"Besides, there are so many opportunites here. Work, education… you name it. This is the central hub of three galaxies; everyone comes here. And Dylan…" she looked at her son fondly, "Here, he has the chance to become whatever he wants to be."
The purple woman just smiled knowingly. "Yes. Yes, he does."
As the airshow was drawing to an end, they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways ― much to little Dylan's dismay. But the next morning, Dylan's father was taken by surprise when the purple young woman indeed came for a visit; he hadn't expected her to. He gave her some pointers on the best sights in the Imperial Gardens; but then she further surprised him by asking to join him for a little while. She observed, asked and listened as he explained the reasons behind certain combinations of flora being together, or why they were cared for in a particular way. She even helped a little. He noticed that the work seemed to give her the same calm contentedness that it did to him.
As she finally stood up to leave and see the rest of the gardens, Dylan's dad asked her to come back once more after she was finished with the tour. When she returned, he insisted on giving her some choice seeds, along with notes on how to grow them and take care for them. She seemed grateful as she took her leave.
He would never see the mysterious purple girl again.
But his son would.
A/N: This story was inspired by a few things that had occurred to me.
Dylan is from Tarn-Vedra; Trance is the avatar of Tarn-Vedra's sun. In a sense, that solar system is the home and point of origin for both of them.
We don't really know how old Trance is, when she was created... but she may be very old for all we know. After all, her star is ancient to say the least by human lifespan standards, and in theory could have made Trance as its avatar at any time.
So, her being around before the Fall and the Long Night seems perfectly plausible ― including when Dylan was just a kid.
Finally, Dylan's dad was stated to be a gardener in the Imperial Gardens on Tarn-Vedra... and guess what just so happens to be Trance's favorite activity? What a coincidence... or not, heheh!