Starwalker

Captain's log, 20:19, 2 April 2214
Location: Orbit around Terra Sol, Home system
Status: Maintaining orbit
Log location: Captain's cabin

This is Captain Warwick reporting, three days after… they’re already calling it the Fall of Earth.

The beacons have been sent out to every colony and outpost. They fled past us a couple of days ago, calling for ships and aid.

Judiciary ships hover over the battered planet like angry dogs over a wounded master. We’ve tried to get information about what’s going on down on the surface, but it’s tricky. Most of Earth’s satellites are gone, knocked out of orbit or destroyed by the pulse from the flare; the only data relays available are from the Judiciary ships now. We don’t dare to connect with them in case they realise we might have been involved in what happened and we don’t dare get close enough to take our own readings. There are already alerts about us out on the network.

Which leaves us blind here. We’re sticking close to the sun’s aura; its radiation will mask us from passive sensor sweeps and we’re staying on the side furthest from Earth whenever we can. Our work pulls us around to the other side periodically, but nothing untoward has happened yet.

Dr Cirilli and her team are monitoring the star around the clock. So far, we’ve had to suppress three more flares, though none of them approaching the severity of the one that split Mercury open and hit Earth. Each time, it has taken several hours of frenetic scurrying and prodding to settle the solar tides down. They tell me the flares are getting smaller in magnitude; they’re not far off ‘normal’ now.

The crew have been asking how long we should stay here. They know that this system is about to host an influx of ships, civilian and Judiciary, and it’ll be a focal point for the entire human race. The longer we stay here, the higher the risk of detection and that awful word: blame.

It’s not as if we don’t blame ourselves enough already. We did everything we could to prevent this very thing from happening and it still wasn’t enough. It’s hard not to think we caused this or, at best, just plain failed.

I am the captain; if this ship is at fault, the responsibility is mine. Right or wrong, my decisions brought us here.

I’ve gone over the path that led to this place a hundred times. I’ve tried to work out what we could have done differently, though my mother would have told me that such answers won’t make anyone happy. Hindsight is a wonderful and dangerous thing, she used to tell me. And maybe we could have tried to find a safer place to put Kess down, maybe we could have moved faster to defend them or get them back on board. But none of that changes what’s happening down on that planet right now.

It’s still a heavy weight to bear.

Starry has taken this to heart, the way she does with everything we do. After the beacons shot past us, calling for aid, she stopped asking if we should go back to help. Partly because we had an indication of just how bad it was down there, and partly because she knows she doesn’t have enough cargo space to make a difference to everything that’s wrong. I think she’s afraid to look too closely at Earth now.

I’m worried about Lorena, too. She has been withdrawn since Kess came on board, and after this emergency started, she has been pure business. I respect her work ethic and always have, but she has avoided every attempt I’ve made to talk. I think she’s taking this harder than she’s letting anyone know. As her captain, I can’t demand that she confide in me about personal matters unless it’s getting in the way of her work, and it’s not. Since we stopped sleeping together, I lost the ability to ask as her lover, maybe even as her friend. But I’m still worried about her.

I should put the bounds of captaincy aside and ask her anyway. She means a great deal to me; she helped me through a bad time, when I’d lost Danika and we were discovering Starry. I owe her for that. Maybe we shouldn’t be involved any more, but I can be her friend.

Spirits know that she doesn’t have many on the ship. She told me many times that she has to watch herself with Ebling; she fears that he seeks to take this project out from under her. She respects him professionally but she won’t admit to being weak in front of him. It’s the same with Lang Lang, though I can’t imagine why; Lang Lang would never betray anyone. I think Lorena has been bitten before, and now her caution is driving her away from everyone.

This doesn’t help me decide how long to stay here.

We’re all hurting right now and trying not to think about the reality of disaster. Lives lost, history obliterated, so many spirits torn loose before their time. Some have family or homes on the planet…

Lorena’s daughter. She visited just weeks ago, when we were in Hong Kong. We haven’t dared to contact the Judiciary for fear of detection, and Lorena hasn’t asked, but… John, you are an idiot. Of course that’s affecting her. And of course, we should find out what’s happened to her daughter if we can.

Priorities. It’s all about priorities. We’re all hurting and the crew is looking to me. This is what I’m here for. So it’s time to make a choice and move forward, because circling around this star isn’t getting us anywhere.

Internal comms

CAPTAIN: Comm, connect me to Lang Lang.

LANG LANG CARTIER: (voice only, after a moment) Yes, sir?

CAPT: How long would it take to put together a simulation of the sun’s tides?

LANG LANG: We’re running several parallel simulations now, if you’d like to see, sir.

CAPT: Not of the current situation. Of the sun from before we started making changes.

LANG LANG: From before… you mean, as if we hadn’t done anything?

CAPT: Yes. Can you do it?

LANG LANG: Yes! Yes, of course. It won’t be pretty, though, sir.

CAPT: That’s sort of the point.

LANG LANG: (hesitates) Oh! Oh, I see. Yes, I’ll get on that right away.

CAPT: How soon do you think it can be ready?

LANG LANG: A couple of hours, maybe a little more.

CAPT: Let’s aim for tomorrow morning, shall we?

LANG LANG: Yes, sir.

CAPT: Thank you, Lang Lang.

CAPT: Starry?

STARRY: (appears before the captain’s desk) Yes, sir?

CAPT: Everyone is very formal today. Can you have everyone in the Bridge at oh-nine-hundred tomorrow, please?

STARRY: (tilts her head to the side) You complain about formality and then issue an order?

CAPT: (rubs his face) It’s been a long day.

STARRY: Then you should get some rest. I’ll have everyone there for you. Science geeks too?

CAPT: Yes. Though you really shouldn’t call them that.

STARRY: Well, I don’t do it to their faces.

CAPT: (gives her a quelling look.)

STARRY: (sighs and shifts her feet) Okay, I’ll stop.

CAPT: (smiles at her tiredly) Thank you.

STARRY: You need anything else?

CAPT: No, that’s it. Everything all right with you?

STARRY: Radiation levels are good. I haven’t detected any damage from our… activities. No alarms bells yet.

CAPT: (hesitates, watching her) Good to know, thank you. (He nods.)

STARRY: (nods and touches her forehead, then disappears.)

That wasn’t what I meant. Is everyone on this ship withdrawing into their shells? We won’t get through this if we do that. A crew that doesn’t talk isn’t a crew at all. We might not have been the closest group of people before but at least we spoke to each other before. Complaints are better than silence.

CAPT: (sighing) Comm, get me Monaghan.

ELLIOTT: (voice only) Something wrong?

CAPT: How’s Starry holding up?

ELLIOTT: Integrity’s good, no real damage to speak of. She could do with a fresh coat of paint – had a few close calls with that corona – but otherwise…

CAPT: (before the engineer can go off into more technical detail) No, I mean, mentally.

ELLIOTT: Uh.

CAPT: She seems all right to you?

ELLIOTT: Well, no. Are any of us? I mean, this is big shit.

CAPT: She talks to you, Monaghan. If you notice anything off about her, I need you to let me know immediately.

ELLIOTT: (frown carrying through in his voice) You think she’s a danger to us? ‘Cause I’ll tell you now, she’s the furthest thing from that in this entire system. The things she did to keep us safe while she…

CAPT: (quickly) I know; that’s not what I meant. I’m not questioning her loyalty or her capability. She needs friends as well as an engineer to help her, and it’s my job to make sure she has what she needs.

ELLIOTT: Oh.

CAPT: I need your help to make sure she’s all right.

ELLIOTT: Uh, yeah, sure. You want me to go talk to her again?

CAPT: Whatever you think is necessary. What do you think she needs?

ELLIOTT: You’re asking me? Fuck, I don’t know. I… (He trails off awkwardly.)

CAPT: What is it?

ELLIOTT: Just, maybe she needs a captain with the balls to ask her himself. Sir.

CAPT: Monaghan…

ELLIOTT: Hey, don’t ask a question if you don’t wanna hear the answer.

CAPT: (closes his eyes for a moment) I need to know that you’re looking out for her, Monaghan.

ELLIOTT: Of course I am! Even the emotional bullshit side.

CAPT: Good. Don’t worry; I’ll be talking with her as well.

ELLIOTT: Uh-huh.

CAPT: Good night, Monaghan.

The worst part is: he’s right.

I’m so busy being the captain that I forget to be their friend. But I can’t afford to be their friend, not with the kinds of decisions I might have to make. My decisions might kill them and I can’t let affection and emotion interfere with what’s right.

And yet, I’ve fallen in love with two of them: Lorena and Danika. I let it become affectionate and emotional.

It’s hard not to think about Danika when Starry looks so much like her. She speaks with her voice. I believe that there’s a part of Danika’s spirit in her, even though the woman I loved is dead. It’s hard not to see the child in Starry. Sometimes, I feel more like her father than her captain, and in those moments, I understand my own father a little more.

I should regret forming those relationships. Bonds and ties between me and my crew, me and my ship. It’s making things so difficult now, but I can’t imagine any other choice. I can’t wish away what was – and is – between us.

No regrets. Here is where we are and tomorrow needs to be a new start for us. We need to start building ourselves a future out of this mess, and that means new relationships for some of us.

Monaghan may be an oblivious little shit about people most of the time, but he’s right about this. Starry and the crew need a captain who’ll ask the right questions of and for them. We’re on our own here.

CAPT: Comm, get me Lorena.

DR CIRILLI: (voice only) Yes, captain?

CAPT: Do you have a moment? I think we need to talk.

End log.

Ship's log, 22:17, 29 March 2214
Location: Orbit around Terra Sol, Home system
Status: Maintaining orbit

It is done. I am smoking and glowing in places I shouldn’t, but I’ve done everything I can here.

I can’t begin to describe the past day. I thought about starting up a log a thousand times, but there was no space for words. No time to think or reflect. There was just doing and hoping, and trying not to look back.

It has been so hard not to look behind me. Not to wonder how Earth is faring. Not to peek at the shock-wave rippling over Venus, or Mars, or any of the other planets. Not to measure Mercury’s falter and try to simulate what effect it’ll have.

There has been no time for that and I’m glad. On the one hand, I want to know; on the other, the thought makes me feel sick. Which is impressive, considering that I don’t have a stomach or guts or any ability to vomit even if I want to. I could vent some waste but it’s not at all the same.

I held the captain’s words in my head to keep me on course: our job is to stop this happening again. As much as we can do has to be enough. I can’t change what’s happening on Earth. I can’t save them. But I can do this.

None of us have slept for the past two days. I’m used to it, because I never sleep, but my crew are feeling the strain. I sent them all to bed half an hour ago, promising to monitor everything closely and wake them if needed. I’m doing my best not to need them right away; they need to rest.

I thought getting past the surge of radiation and gravity was the hard part, but that was over surprisingly quickly. The bulk of the Coronal Mass Ejection (CME) wasn’t aimed directly for Earth (I spent twenty minutes re-checking calculations to be sure of that, though as these things go, it’s a small mercy), but it was wide enough to be in my flight path. Which means it was wide enough to impact the planet. It’s hard not to think about that.

Anyway. I swung around to the upper left quadrant to slide through the side of the swell and across the CME’s wake. It was still dangerous: the ride was rough and my inertial dampeners struggled to balance out the impact on my innards. My crew clung to the bulkheads and, in some cases, each other. I twisted and fought my way through. The tide tried to bowl me over and sweep me under. I was flooded with radiation, but it didn’t penetrate mid-deck’s protected sections. That part of our plan worked perfectly.

Pushing through the CME took a roiling couple of minutes, and then it was over. My hull felt like it had been scoured by a huge, sand-papery hand, and I was warm in all the wrong places, but I was through. My sensors were clear and I finally got a good look at Terra Sol. And I knew that we’d just done the easy bit.

Terra Sol was bucking like a pain-whipped stallion. Tides tore across her surface; pressure fronts collided and lashed out at the universe. If there was sound in space, I think she’d have been screaming. When I reached her, I sped to where another flare was building and opened a tiny portal, enough to cause a backlash that pushed the flare back down again. The pressure had to go somewhere, so no sooner had I sealed off that portal than I was rushing on to the next point, charging up the filaments as I went.

That was the pattern for the next few hours: weave filaments, push open a tiny portal, measure the shockwaves, close it off, and scurry on to the next point before something slipped out of control. There was no time to catch my breath; there were always more waves to counter, more spots that darkened or brightened or needed to be balanced. I was a novice with an acupuncture needle, desperately trying to head off disaster, relieve pressure, and cancel out the awful tides at the same time.

My crew fell into patterns without really trying, crammed into mid-deck so closely they merged into each other. It was like their hearts beat in sync and they were one machine, part of me, my arms and hands and eyes. My SecOffs watched my sensor readings in case the gravity surges or Mercury’s debris passed too close. Dr Valdimir watched the crew’s vital signs to make sure the radiation wasn’t affecting them. Elliott monitored my systems for overloads and radiation venting. Ebling and Cirilli were watching the wave patterns for spikes and forming flares. Lang Lang was running the longer simulations and plugging in the algorithms we’d created, so we could move from putting out fires to calming the tides.

Eventually, the emergencies eased and we shifted into a less reactionary mode. Cirilli moved over to help Lang Lang with the predictive models that would help us to heal the star. Ripples and counter-ripples, dropping stones into the pond with needle-point precision. The flare build-up eased off and we were able to keep the crashing waves under some kind of control. In the last few hours, it was more about nudging tides in a direction less likely to cause clashes.

We had a few close calls. I had to push the safety boundaries too many times: skimming the sun’s boiling corona to get to the next flare point; dipping in close enough to open a portal at the right distance; straining my engines to get into position in time. I had to back off a few times to vent heat and radiation before diving in again. Dr Valdimir says he’s going to give everyone anti-radiation meds, just in case.

I’m trying not to think about what effect the radiation might have had on my structure and integrity. My diagnostics are coming back clear, but sometimes that kind of thing doesn’t show itself right away. Elliott was gruff about it, scowling at his favourite hand-unit like it had offended him. When we called a halt to the work, I didn’t want to let the crew out of their protected space on mid-deck, but the captain insisted. Anti-radiation meds would be enough, he said, and if there’s damage, we’ll get warning before anything fails. And besides, there weren’t enough beds on mid-deck.

Running diagnostics again. Probably be hours, even days, before I can tell anything. No harm in having them ticking over in the meantime, just in case.

I’m still running tight monitoring sweeps of the star’s surface as I circle her slowly. There hasn’t been anything that looked like it might breach the corona for the past hour; that was how we decided it was time to stop our work. The tides are moving, swishing in a slow churn. Looks almost like a normal star.

It’s hard to believe it’s really over. Maybe she’s just catching her breath. Maybe something will tip her over again. Could we really have fixed her? It took longer than we had predicted, but she was worse than the models we worked from and it’s not like we have any real historical data to base this on anyway. No-one has ever rebalanced a star like this before. Have they? How do we know if it has worked? Do I just sit here and wait? How long is long enough?

I’ll just sit here and chew on my virtual nails, and be glad of the break that lets my crew sleep. They need it.

Sometimes, I miss sleeping.

I wonder if Kess has come back yet. I wonder if her friends are still there with her.

I’m passing by the Earth-side of the star now. Just keep focussed on the sensor sweeps, silly ship; there’s nothing you can do for the planet. It’s not within sensor range, not really, and it’s too soon to be sure the acupuncture is going to stick.

There hasn’t even been a distress beacon from the planet. A few from damaged ships, gone as quickly as they appeared, but not transmission I expected. The system is eerily silent.

I can pick up the light reflected back by the planet. I can see her, just make out her blue-green marble. Actually, it looks bluer than ever right now. It’s prettier, but not familiar that way…

Oh, shit, the satellites. The clutter of space junk and satellites that created a layer around the planet, dirtying up the sky: it’s gone. Knocked out of orbit and… into the planet? Did they rain down? Bounce away? Did they take the brunt of the CME, or were they just the fore-runners?

Don’t look, Starry, don’t look. There’s nothing you can do. There’s not even a ripple across the darkness to call you in to help. Here is where you’re needed. Your crew is safe and sleeping, and they’re what matter. They’re all that matters.

Why, then, do I ache? Its as if my bulkheads are still glowing, like over-irradiated bones trying to push out from under my skin.

Maybe I’ll go scan the other side of the star for a while. It’s quieter there, away from Earth’s blank stare and Mercury’s limping orbit. It’s easier to think I might not have failed.

I’m going to listen to the heartbeats of the ten people slumbering in my arms, and remind myself that without us, it would all have been so much worse.

Ship's log, 19:32, 28 March 2214
Location: Near Spain, Earth
Status: Exit vector to Earth orbit

Four hours. I can’t believe we’ve wasted nearly four hours since the light of the solar flare reached us.

I’ve never seen a flare like that before. Not even all of Dr Cirilli’s archives hold anything like it. When the light of Kess’s death reached us, it looked like the whole star was convulsing. My radiation sensors are partly blinded by the atmosphere but even I can tell that the fallout isn’t going to be good.

It took an hour for the emergency warnings to start coming through. Sensor relays out in the system picked up the shockwave of radiation and magnetic disturbance – a Coronal Mass Ejection, they call it. They say it’s the biggest solar event for millennia.

It hasn’t hit yet: the calculations say it’ll be another six hours. They’re predicting massive geomagnetic storms and advising citizens to get inside, but stay away from technology. They do realise the kind of world they’ve built, right? Some people have the technology built right into their bodies.

If my captain was out there, what would it do to his new arm? Rosie, Half-face… even Elliott has electronics implanted into his skull. What would this do to them?

I can’t think about that. It doesn’t matter; we’ve finally been given clearance to leave the planet. I’m pushing my maximum atmospheric speed right now; any more and the gravity will tear my wings off.

They kept trying to get us to land. I refused to consider it until they solved their security issues, and then I refused because of the incoming C.M.E. They wouldn’t let us go, though, so Cameron got on the comms. She has a tone that would make a sergeant-major say ‘yes ma’am’. She quoted all kinds of statutes I’d never heard of and threatened corporate retribution that would flatten their little spaceport.

The most dangerous thing about her is most definitely not her gun.

I don’t know what happened to Kess and her friends. The spaceport staff took the body away a couple of hours ago and I haven’t seen any sign of a fire anywhere within sensor range. We never asked how long it might take for her to come back.

The captain was right, though: the flares mean we’re not the biggest problem on the Port Authority’s radar right now. According to the predictions, this area is going to be among the worst hit, even though it’ll be facing away from the sun; in fact, because it’ll be facing away. The geomagnetic forces will flood around the Earth and snap back on the dark side. There’s no escaping what’s coming, but they’re evacuating anyway.

I don’t want to think about what will be here if I ever come back.

Location: Bridge

STARRY: (standing on the right of the room, her hands clasped behind her back) Captain, we’re free of the atmosphere.

CAPTAIN: (in his chair, his hands gripping the armrests as he watches the simulation before him. The hologram shows the system: the sun, the planets on their patient orbits, and the blob of the solar flare’s radiation surge rushing from the centre outwards.) Take us directly to the sun.

STARRY: Aye, sir. Punching full sublight.

(A tiny gold spot leaves the orb that is Earth and cuts directly across towards the sun, ignoring the gentle curve of the transit lane.)

This isn’t the time for subtlety. There are so many ships leaving the planet that the transit lane is a mess anyway. From the looks of things, several ships have already collided in their hurry.

No time to stop and help. This isn’t about saving one ship any more: it’s about saving planets.

So I dodge and weave. I duck around stray satellites and cut across the skin of Earth’s upper atmosphere. I make best speed towards the sun, while every other ship is heading the other way, trying to get out of range of the wave of radiation. I have to fly right through it to get where I’m going.

Location: Engineering

STARRY: (appearing behind Elliott) Is there any way we can buffer my shielding?

ELLIOTT: (busy manipulating a holographic control of the systems behind one of the bulkheads) Already on it, Starry. But the short answer is: not much. You’re already beefed up so we can get close enough to Step.

STARRY: (shifting her weight uncomfortably) And there’s no time to put an extra coat of paint on.

ELLIOTT: Nope. I’m building in a few hardware protections for your core systems, but you should come through the magnetic surge all right. Hell, you almost flew through solar flares a couple of times already.

He doesn’t seem worried. I wish I was that confident; this is bigger and much worse than the flares I’ve been around before.

And, honestly, that’s not at the top of my worry list right now.

STARRY: What about the radiation buffers, for the crew?

ELLIOTT: (scrubs the back of his neck) Yeah, good point. You’re gonna need to channel it away from them. What do you think: mid-deck?

STARRY: Med Bay has the heaviest emergency shielding…

ELLIOTT: If we use mid-deck, then the rest of you becomes buffer.

STARRY: (blinks) Oh, I see what you mean. Yes, mid-deck.

ELLIOTT: Okay. How long until we meet the Wave of Death?

STARRY: (distressed) Don’t call it that, Elliott.

ELLIOTT: (pauses and glances over at her) Hey, don’t take it so personally.

STARRY: (looks down at the toes of her hologrammatic boots and mumbles) Three hours, maybe.

ELLIOTT: This ain’t your fault. And if we isolate everyone in a single part of the ship, we’ll get through it just fine. If you think you can fly all by yourself, that is.

STARRY: (head rising sharply) ‘Course I can fly.

ELLIOTT: Then pull the rivets out of your butt and get moving.

He’s not as sure as he’s trying to make out. Even with my extra shielding, it’s going to be dangerous. But I’ve skimmed the corona of a star before. I’ve been bathed in radiation and my crew was fine. I can’t help feeling that this will be different, though. This surge is more concentrated than anything I’ve dealt with, and I don’t know how my buffers are going to hold up, for me or my crew.

We’ve got three hours before we reach the surge. Before it hits us. Whatever happens, we have to push through and get to the sun. We have to try to counter what’s happening and stop any more flares.

Location: Bridge

STARRY: Captain, we need to get everyone down to mid-deck for when we hit the C.M.E.

CAPT: Mid-deck?

STARRY: It has the best chance at shielding everyone.

CAPT: (nods and rises.)

He doesn’t ask for the calculations; he trusts me to be sure about these things. He knows I wouldn’t pass it on to him if I hadn’t checked it a dozen times.

Wait. Oh my god, I don’t–

CAPT: (partway to the exit, he pauses at movement on the hologram in the middle of the room) Starry, what was that?

STARRY: (staring at the display) Mercury, it’s… I’m assessing sensor data, captain.

CAPT: (walks towards the hologram of the little planet) Magnify.

(The image swells, showing the planet nearest Terra Sol in painful detail. The planet bears a massive split, as if great hands had taken hold of it and twisted. Chunks of debris float away from it, expelled by the force of the fracture. Those on the sun-side curve in towards the roiling surface of the star, plunging headlong to their own destruction.)

STARRY: The magnetic readings, they’re all off. (Wide eyes turn on the captain.) It’s… captain, a planet broke.

CAPT: (considers the avatar, then takes a step towards her to pin her with a direct gaze. He looks for a moment as if he wants to take hold of her shoulders, but there’s nothing to touch.) We couldn’t have saved it, Starry. Our job is to stop this happening again.

STARRY: (staring up at him, she nods slowly) I understand.

CAPT: Get us there as fast as you can.

STARRY: Too much debris for FTL and there’s not enough room…

CAPT: We can’t do anything if we’re dead. In one piece, Starry. As much as we can do has to be enough.

STARRY: We’re at full sublight.

CAPT: (smiles grimly) Good. Then let’s get everyone down to mid-deck and see if we can ride through this storm, all right?

STARRY: Broadcasting the order now, sir.

CAPT: Good girl. We’ll get through this.

STARRY: Yes, sir. (She tries to straighten her shoulders.) We will.

CAPT: (nods at her approvingly, then turns to stride off the Bridge.)

STARRY: (looks at the image of Mercury again, then disappears.)

We have to get through this.

Oh god, it broke a planet. Nearly sheared it in half: I can see Mercury’s core from here. He’s bleeding chunks of rock into orbit, his innards spinning into the void and the hungry heart of a star.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were supposed to fix it before it came to this. We had everything lined up – it was tight, but it would have worked. And then some scared idiot with a gun comes along and… who knew that a star could be killed, or even a part of a star? I had no way of knowing, of factoring that into my calculations.

I think Mercury’s orbit has altered. It’s too early to tell, but he definitely wobbled when he cracked. I don’t think even my gravity manipulations can correct the orbit of an entire planet; I’m about to perform acupuncture on a star, and that’s entirely different.

Focus, Starry. One thing at a time. Make best speed, and make sure we can get through the flare’s surge in one piece. Get everyone into mid-deck and seal the bulkheads. Have the drones pile up extra plating around the access points.

What will it do to Earth? Mercury was smaller, and closer, and made of different stuff. So maybe it won’t be so bad, but…

Can’t think about that now. It’s hard not to spin out the possibilities when there’s a few hours until things get interesting. Focus on fixing the current problems, idiot ship. Examine the radiation surge and figure out the best way to slide through it. Think of it like surfing, ducking through the waves as they crash above. Divert power to cooling the engine housing, because I’m running the sublights as hot as I can.

Elliott’s not moving. He’s supposed to be going to mid-deck.

Location: Engineering

STARRY: (appearing behind Elliott’s shoulder) You need to move out now.

ELLIOTT: (not looking around from the controls he’s manipulating) I’m still adjusting the buffering harmonics.

STARRY: (steps forward and touches the edge of the holographic console; it folds up and disappears) You can do that from mid-deck. You need to go down there now.

CASPER: (settles into a stubborn position just behind the avatar.)

ELLIOTT: (lifting his hands away from where the console was) Hey– (He turns and jumps at the sight of the drone.) Where the hell did you come from?

CASPER: (draws a circle in the air with a finger.)

ELLIOTT: Very funny. (To the avatar,) Starry, I’ve got work to do down here.

STARRY: (folding her arms over her chest) My boys’ll be your hands. We need to start shoring up the shielding around mid-deck, and I can’t do that with a door open. You have to go now.

ELLIOTT: Or what, he’s going to carry me?

STARRY: If he has to.

ELLIOTT: (scowls at her.)

STARRY: (sighs, her pose relenting under the weight of his expression) Please, Elliott. I need you in one piece, too.

ELLIOTT: (huffs and turns to grab his toolbelt off a nearby counter. Byte scuttles over and offers up his favourite scanner; the engineer grabs it and shoves it into a pocket.) Okay, okay.

He’s going. Everyone’s moving. Dr Cirilli looks pissed at the invasion, but the captain isn’t listening to her protests; he’s focussed on setting up the stations we need. They have plenty of consoles for that, even if they’re not quite suited to it. Cameron and Swann are crammed into a corner, but they’re making do.

If I can isolate the central portion of mid-deck, we’ll be able to use entire cabins as buffers. It’ll be okay. We’ll get through it.

It won’t twist me up like it did Mercury. Poor, broken planet, warning to us all.

Storm threshold: 208 minutes and counting.

Ship's log, 15:27, 28 March 2214
Location: Spaceport, Seville, Spain, Earth
Status: Docked and powered down

Most of my people are outside, surrounded by an angry mob, and stupid docking clamps have me pinned in place. Can’t do anything except watch, as it all goes wrong.

External sensors

(Halfway across the landing platform, the mob has gathered around the Starwalker‘s disembarked passengers. Amid the shouting, a hand grabs at Sasha. Warren comes to her defense, tearing her free, but the seal on the situation has broken. Angry words give way to physicality and the thin veil on the mob’s mood is ripped apart.)

KESS: (light kindling around her edges as she tries to keep her people behind her) Stop this!

(Chief Cameron is running towards them with Swann on her heels. She lifts her weapon to fire a warning shot over the mob’s heads, but she’s beaten to it. A gunshot cracks and someone screams.

Kess moves to the side, and then she falls. Warren has blood on his face. Sasha gapes, and then she’s shouting at everyone, back, get back.

More gunshots, this time from the SecOffs coming up to flank Kess’s people. Two armed bodies crumple. The mob shatters as people shy away from the gunfire, but they don’t go far, pushed forward by the weight of bodies coming up behind. There’s nowhere for them to go; the crowd surges uncertainly.)

External communications line

STARRY: Port Authority! We have shots fired down here! People down, people down.

SEVILLE PORT AUTHORITY: Security is on its way, Starwalker.

STARRY: Still four minutes away and people are dying. Get these clamps off me so I can help!

PORT AUTH: Negative, Starwalker. We don’t need a ship making things worse.

STARRY: Worse?! How is that possible? We need backup.

PORT AUTH: And you’ll have it in three and a half minutes.

Location: Cargo Bay 1

CAPTAIN: (standing at the foot of the ramp leading out of the cargo bay. The two heavy drones, Big Ass and Wide Load, trundle past him and spread out.) Starry, better tell them that our people are out there. Don’t want them shooting friendly targets.

STARRY: (at the top of the ramp, her arms folded angrily over her chest) Telling them now, sir.

(Dr Cirilli and Ebling stand on either side of her, holding weapons uncomfortably.)

External communications line

STARRY: (icily) Be advised, Port Authority, that my crew is out on the platform. Your security better pick their targets really fucking carefully. And you’re paying for any damage I sustain here.

PORT AUTH: (sighing) Acknowledged, Starwalker.

This is such a mess. Screaming and crying is muddling up the shouting of the mob. A halo of empty space has appeared around the fallen bodies and Cameron and Swann are trying to get them to back off even further. The mob is unwilling, though, and I can see at least a couple eyeing the weapons of the fallen.

Need to help.

Stragglers have shied away from the main clump of the mob and are going around the edges. Rosie just smashed the butt of her gun into the face of a young woman trying to sneak around my nose. Elliott is only a few steps away from them, obliviously working on the docking clamps, and she had a knife. A knife. She’s crawling away now, choking on blood.

Elliott has one of the docking clamps down already. It’s not enough; I need both off me to be free. Stupid safety protocols! Who are they safe for when it really matters?

Attempting to override internal docking locks. Never mind propulsion; I need weapons. Just need to get the defense lasers online. No time for finesse; I’m pulling out code by the fistful. Fix it later.

Warren is crouching next to Kess. He glances up at Sasha and shakes his head. There’s blood all over his hands. I can’t tell if she’s dead or not; she defies my sensors. She’s not moving. What kind of avatar bleeds?

Weapons systems online
Weapons systems offline

Come on, come on. Almost there. Give me something!

External sensors

CAMERON: (to the mob circled around her, Sasha, Warren, Swann, and the fallen Kess) Stand down! It’s not worth dying over.

INTERLOPER #4: (French) We’ll die either way!

SWANN: (growling as he pans his aim across the roiling mob) It’s not working, Chief.

CAMERON: Steady, Swann. Hold your position.

SWANN: We gotta move.

CAMERON: I said hold.

(To the side, where he hopes the SecOffs can’t see it, a young man darts forward to grab the gun of one of the men bleeding on the ground.)

Weapons systems online
Defensive lasers powering up

Yes!

Ship to crew comms

STARRY: Hold still, everyone. My turn.

External sensors

(A hum rises from the ship and bright white light spears across the platform, striking an inch in front of the young man who just picked up a weapon. He squeaks and drops the gun as he flinches back. The tar-sheet smokes where it hit.

More lasers arc out from the turrets on the ship’s sides, cutting a circle around the group of Starwalker crew and friends. The mob skitters back a few steps. A deep score smoulders in a perfect semi-circle.)

STARRY: (voice only, projecting from external speakers) That’s enough! Stand down, all of you. This ship is not your way off this planet.

INTERLOPER #5: It is if we make it!

STARRY: I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you force me to.

(Stragglers are increasingly moving around the edges of the central mob, trying to take advantage of the attention focussed there. At the base of the ramp, the heavy drones rotate two of their hands to bring up their cutting torches. Twin blue flames spark to life.

At the forward part of the ship, lasers spear downwards, drawing a line around the Starwalker‘s periphery that makes those approaching it shy away.)

ROSIE: (under the ship’s nose, grinning hard and hefting her weapon meaningfully) Try again, I dare ya.

ELLIOTT: (muttering as he works on the second clamp, not tearing his attention away for a second) Yeah, that’ll help. Invite them to shoot at us, why don’t you. (Louder,) Starry, I’m almost through.

STARRY: (voice only, over crew comms) Ready to power up the moment it comes off.

CAPT: (backing up the ramp and keeping his eye on the stragglers who are within range of his weapon) Starry, get airborne as soon as you can.

STARRY: You bet your ass I will, captain.

(A knot stragglers seem to be weighing their chances of making a mad dash for the open cargo bay doors; a spurt of a laser slices across in front of them as a deterrent.)

Dammit, I don’t want to hurt anyone. I see the world in minute measurements; I can pinpoint an ant on the next platform over. I can avoid hurting them if I want to. But I don’t know how much longer the threat of being sliced up is going to keep them back. I can’t even pull my punches; it’s hard to be gentle with weapons designed to deal with rock and metal.

And if I take off as soon as the clamps release, how are my crew going to get back on board? No, that’s okay, I have a solution. It’s like chess: all about getting the pieces in the right places.

ELLIOTT: I’m done! Clamps off!

Docking clamps released
Powering up
Engines online
Thrusters online
All systems online

I’m free! Those goddamn clamps are falling away from me, their heads broken like trodden-on daisies. Stupid things.

(Thrusters flare and wings unfold, turning to aim their power downwards. The ship lifts only half a metre before the legs fold up. The thrusters at her nose are carefully disabled, so that Rosie and Elliott aren’t battered in the backwash.

The captain is standing in the airlock. In front of him, the ramp is retracting. The heavy drones below split up: Big Ass heads for the two crewmembers under the ship’s forward section, while Wide Load makes best speed towards where the SecOffs are covering Kess.

The ship turns slowly, spinning until her nose is hovering over the centre of the mob. The gathered people cringe back from the roar of thrusters holding her steady and even.

With the ship hovering tantalisingly low and the ramp retreating out of reach, a pair of girls make a dash for it. A laser burst stabs one of them through the middle and she crumples; a shot from the captain’s weapon flings the other off the end of the ramp. Starry hurriedly seals the ramp away and uses her lasers to cut another line around her friends below.)

STARRY: (voice only, projecting from external speakers) Now, who wants to see me do an impression of a crazy discoball? Anyone? No? Then BACK. THE FUCK. OFF.

(She fires a few random laser shots over the crowd’s heads for emphasis, and they fall back with shrieks and arms flung up over their heads.)

External communications line

PORT AUTH: Starwalker, we’re getting reports of clamp malfunctions and firing from…

STARRY: Do I have clearance for immediate dust-off?

PORT AUTH: No, we’re asking–

STARRY: Then stop bothering me until I do. Busy here.

Crew comms

CAPT: Chief, can you get Kess on board?

STARRY: I can lower the ramp when you’re ready.

CAMERON: Do my best, captain. (She looks to Warren, who is still kneeling by the fallen avatar.) Get her up, we’re retreating.

WARREN: (glances over his shoulder at Sasha, then shakes his head) She’s dead.

STARRY: (over Cameron’s comms) How can she be dead? She’s a star.

WARREN: Not the star; the avatar. It’s… look, it’s complicated.

SASHA: You really don’t want her on board when she comes back.

CAMERON: (frowning) You wanna explain that some more?

SASHA: The name of our ship wasn’t enough of a clue? The Firebird. Because she’s the goddamn phoenix. She dies for a while, then she comes back. With… (Her hand flurry expressively.) …lots of flamey.

WARREN: But in the meantime, her consciousness is… well, we don’t know where she goes.

CAMERON: (tensing as she glances out at the crowd milling just beyond the laser marks) That is not good.

STARRY: You mean the consciousness that’s spending all its time holding back the sun’s tides?

WARREN: (nodding grimly) That one.

Oh, shit. Our job just got urgent. And pointy. And really fucking scary. Without Kess to rein in the solar flares, it’s going to get messy down here.

Oh god, all these people.

It’s going to be another six minutes before I know what effect the avatar’s death has on the star. Six minutes and counting.

The captain just checked his forearm readout; he’s thinking the same thing. My avatar is leaning over and pointing to a countdown I’ve transmitted to him. 5:53, 5:52… He nods, knowing what it means.

CAPT: Starry, how long until security get here?

STARRY: About a minute at their current rate.

CAPT: (over comms) Crew, get back to the ship. Warren, can you and Sasha handle things down there from here on out?

WARREN: (nodding and looking down at Kess. He smooths the hair off her forehead. If it wasn’t for the blood, it would look like she was sleeping.) Yeah, we can handle it.

SASHA: You guys better hurry if you’re gonna do what you need to.

CAPT: Just how bad is it?

SASHA: (shrugs) Last time she died, earthquakes tried to rip the Ring of Fire up by the roots.

That was seventeen years ago; I have files on it, and Danika remembers the stories. Earthquakes and volcano eruptions rippled around the Pacific rim as if some great hand was trying to twist the continental plate. Millions died. So much ash was thrown up that it cast half the planet into darkness for a few days. It was one of the worst natural disasters in Earth’s history.

That’s the last time the doomsayers went to town. Now they’re back and whipping up frightened people like this mob. They’re fulfilling their own prophecies. They just killed the sun and it’s going to bite back. It’s going to bite hard. Because in the time since Kess last died, I Stepped through Terra Sol and made her worse.

ELLIOTT: (now standing under one of the wings and looking at the loose ring of people gathering around him and Rosie) Uh, how are we supposed to…

STARRY: Opening Cargo Bay 4 for you; it’s right overhead.

ROSIE: How do we get up there?

STARRY: Your ride’s almost there.

Big Ass is a couple of seconds from reaching them. He flares his cutting torches at people and they get out of his way. Or he just knocks them down; neither of us care about that right now. Wide Load is making a similar journey toward the other SecOffs.

STARRY: Chief, ride’s coming up behind you. The drone’s thrusters should be able to carry two against this gravity.

CAMERON: (nods) Swann, fall back. Warren, Sasha, you’ll be all right?

STARRY: Port Security is breaching the back of the group now. Coming in from the north. They’re firing suppression measures.

(On the far side of the mob, gases hiss and plume. People start to cough and crumple, knocked out by the chemical attack. The crowd surges away from the new threat as people try to get out of range.)

WARREN: We’ll be fine. Go.

SWANN: (moves towards the incoming drone at an oblique angle, swinging his weapon around in wary arcs to dissuade anyone from trying anything. When he gets close enough, he steps up on the drone’s tracks. A cutting torch flicks off and one of Wide Load’s metal arms wraps around Swann’s waist.)

ELLIOTT: (eyeing Big Ass, who has just turned off his torches invitingly) Please tell me you’re kidding.

STARRY: It’s the best way. Hurry, Elliott, there isn’t much time.

ELLIOTT: (steps onto the drone reluctantly, his hands gripping tight despite the metal arm that curls around him. On his shoulder, Byte tilts a look at his much larger brother and takes a better hold of Elliott’s collar.)

ROSIE: (eyes the drone and grins) Ain’t ever boring around here. (She hops up onto the drone’s tracks, swinging her weapon around wildly. Those nearest shy back from its aim, though she’s not firing. Yet.)

BIG ASS: (secures his hold on his passengers and fires up his manoeuvring thrusters. He thrums and it’s a couple of seconds before he lifts off, straining against gravity and the mass he’s trying to move.)

ELLIOTT: (squeezes his eyes shut) Holy fucking…

ROSIE: WHOO HOO.

They coming back to me. I’m almost free to go. Port Authority haven’t given me clearance to leave the port but they’ve had their chance. I’ll find my own way off-planet if I have to.

WIDE LOAD: (offers emergency breathers to Warren and Sasha with a spare hand.)

CAMERON: (climbs aboard the drone.)

SASHA: (takes the breathers and hands one to her friend) Thanks.

WARREN: (still kneeling by the dead avatar, he doesn’t look up as he slides the mask on.)

CAMERON: Good luck.

WIDE LOAD: (activates his thrusters.)

INTERLOPER #5: They’re leaving! Quick! (He rushes forward.)

Harried by a cloud of suppressant gas and seeing their goal escaping, the mob are braving my lasers and leaping at the drones. I can barely keep Warren and Sasha safe. I’m hovering and growling, I’m turning to blast them with my thrusters, but warnings aren’t doing it any more. They’re rushing at us anyway. I fire and some of them fall. My SecOffs are shooting and kicking at them, and I try not to care about how many are being hurt. Killed.

Wide Load is struggling to maintain altitude. Come on, big fella, you can do it. They’re not built for this, but I know it’s within the heavy drones’ capabilities. Get our people home, boys.

Big Ass is inside! Cargo Bay 4 doors closing, sealing them in. There’s nothing the mob can throw at me that can scratch my hull. Elliott, my Elliott, is safe.

Cameron and Swann are almost inside too. Just a few more seconds.

The port’s security forces are sweeping across the platform now, preceeded by their gas cloud. I can’t tell the dead from the sleeping unless I sharpen my sensors. There are only a few runners left, trying to escape, and I don’t care about them.

External communications line

STARRY: Port Authority, requesting immediate exit vector.

PORT AUTH: Starwalker, you need to land for security investigations into the incident on platform A-16. Please proceed to–

STARRY: Not a chance in hell. I’m transmitting the sensor logs of the incident to you; we have nothing to add to that. Give me an exit vector or I’ll find my own.

PORT AUTH: You must submit to security–

Communications line terminated

Location: Cargo Bay 1

(Wide Load lands with a judder and a sideways skid across the airlock floor. Swann jumps free; Cameron rides out the slide and then steps down calmly. The airlock doors close and seal behind them.)

STARRY: (relaxing her worried pose) Captain, the Port Authority is demanding that we land again.

CAPT: (shoulders his weapon and glances at his holographic forearm readout. 3:14.) Get us out of range of the geostorms but stay within the port’s boundaries.

STARRY: But we have to get to the star and–

CAPT: (turning to look at her) I don’t think they’ll be able to demand anything of us in three minutes.

STARRY: (eyes widening) Ascending to upper atmosphere.

He’s right. Of course he’s right. We don’t want to leave with everyone pissed off at us; we have enough problems already with the Judiciary after us. I’ll tell the Port Authority that I’ll stay in a holding pattern until their security is ready to talk to us. And then… when the surge hits, if it’s as bad as we think it’ll be, we’ll be the last thing they care about. They’ll never notice when we slip away.

STARRY: (shipwide) Everyone, please strap in. I think it’s gonna get rough.

Ship's log, 14:39, 28 March 2214
Location: Spaceport, Seville, Spain, Earth
Status: Landing

External communications line

STARRY: (Spanish) Landing on platform A-16, acknowledged. Are the docking clamps really necessary, Port Authority? We’re just dropping someone off.

SEVILLE PORT AUTHORITY: (Spanish) Regulations, Starwalker. You must wait for take-off clearance with docking clamps engaged.

STARRY: (sighing) Acknowledged. Requesting immediate dust-off.

PORT AUTH: You haven’t landed yet.

STARRY: Just getting in the queue, Port Authority.

Landing gear extending

I’ve never used my landing gear before; the only planetside docking I’ve done was in a water port. They feel stiff and new. Think anyone will notice if I flex my feet as I come around to land?

It’s a weird little spaceport. Built for shuttles and small ships like me; I’m almost the maximum size for its docking platforms. Hardly any ships on the platforms right now, though; I see a couple over the other side of the plain, but otherwise it’s pretty empty. Lots of small ground vehicles zipping around, though. And, for some reason, a lot of people clustered around the edges of the installation.

Here we are, swinging around to line up with platform A-16. Restraining the urge to wiggle my toes. Danika has done this a thousand times but I’ve never landed on anything solid before. Have to be careful I don’t touch down too hard. The tar-sheet contacts the pressure sensors on my feet and gives under my weight. I didn’t expect it to be spongy. Better that than a solid plate that could be cracked by a bad landing, I guess.

I land carefully, touch down and settle my weight onto the platform. My landing gear flexes, softening the impact even further and lowering me into my standard landed pose, crouched on solid ground. My wings swivel back to their usual flight position and fold in against my sides.

And the docking clamps rise up from either side, padded mouths coming to sucker hungrily onto me.

Docking clamps engaged
Engines disabled
Thrusters disabled
Weapons disabled
Powering down for docked status

Bugger.

Kess and her friends are gathered in my forward cargo hold with the SecOffs and most of the crew. The captain was overseeing the landing from the Bridge (I think he likes his new chair), but he’s heading down to see her off now, too.

Lang Lang is there, trying not to cry as she says goodbye to the star. Of everyone in the crew, she has spent the most time with Kess. Questions full of wonder and childlike curiosity. Now she looks like her hero is about to walk away. The others are more decorous in their farewells.

My internal atmosphere is cycling to match the pressure outside. The air here is cleaner than Hong Kong’s, so I open both sets of airlocks and let the warm breeze in. It still tastes of more chemicals than I like. I extend a ramp I’ve never used before, from the base of my airlock doors down to the ground.

Location: Cargo Bay 1

KESS: (turns her head towards the opening airlock. Sunlight spills onto the cargo bay floor and a ruffle of air disturbs her hair. She smiles, knowing that she’s home.)

CAPTAIN: (entering from the ship side of the cargo bay) Starry, are we secure?

STARRY: (appearing between the captain and the knot of people in the centre of the bay, and turning to walk with him) Yes, captain. Docked and clamped. There’s a vehicle approaching to take our guests up to the port terminal building.

CAPT: Thank you. Kess, it seems that everything is in order.

KESS: (turning back to look at the captain) Yes, it does. Thank you all for your hospitality.

CAPT: (reaches to shake her hand) I’m glad we could come to a peaceful arrangement.

KESS: (takes his hand in both of hers and holds it for a moment) As am I. Good luck, captain. I hope you find what you’re looking for.

CAPT: (a frown tugs briefly, then he nods and smiles at her.)

KESS: (releases his hand and looks around at those gathered to see them off) I hope the next time we meet, it is under happier circumstances.

(The nods of acknowledgement vary in their wariness and sadness.)

KESS: (turns to her two crewmates and gestures for them to come with her as she walks towards the airlock.)

(Sasha and Warren exchange a glance and murmur their own goodbyes to those gathered around. They don’t hesitate to follow their avatar off the ship, looking relieved as they squint up into the bright sky. They breathe in the planet-side air as if it’s sweeter than the ship-cleaned atmosphere.)

There they go. Hard to believe it’s this easy.

Kess and the captain talked about the Lieutenant going with them. No-one is eager to have a prisoner aboard, but he would be hard to explain to customs if he disembarked here. There’s some doubt about the legal status of his identity; I think he may be on record as being dead. Considering the extent of his cybernetic replacements, most of which seem to have been done after a horrible accident, I can see how he might have been presumed deceased.

Besides, Kess says that he would be able to vouch for the change in contract status, if we should bump into pirates before they receive her retraction. Lieutenant Laurence seemed okay with that. The doctor has made some progress on fixing up his implants, so he might even move out of Med Bay and into a spare cabin soon.

Funny how things change. I don’t even mind him being on board any more.

Kess and her friends have stepped off the ramp. If I switch to external sensors, I can keep an eye on them as they head across the platform to where the vehicle will meet them.

CAPT: (standing within the airlock’s arms with the other crew to watch the star’s progress) Starry, how long until we can depart?

STARRY: I’m negotiating with the Port Authority, but– (The avatar blinks.) Hold on. I’m picking up… captain, Chief, you’d better take a look at this.

CAPT and CAMERON: (turn to look at the avatar, who pulls up a holographic image from the external sensors.)

(The image shows a flood of people rushing through a breach in a perimeter fence. They’re all on foot and running hard. People of all shapes and sizes, huffing and red-faced, determinedly surging forward towards their goal.

The projection pulls back, showing that the front-runners are almost to the edge of the platform. They seem to be heading straight for the occupants of platform A-16.)

STARRY: I’m picking up some comms chatter. The port is scrambling security forces to this area. ETA… ten minutes.

CAMERON: They won’t make it in time. Brasco! Swann! Grab your guns and come with me.

ROSIE and SWANN: (run to collect weapons from the lockers at the rear of the cargo bay.)

CAMERON: (heads down to the base of the ramp.)

STARRY: What the hell do they want?

CAPT: (turning to look out of the airlock. The tide of incoming people is easily visible.) Passage off-planet.

STARRY: Can’t we just…

CAPT: (shakes his head) Look at their faces, Starry. They’re desperate people. Nothing more dangerous than that. If they swarm the ship, we could all be in danger.

STARRY: Oh.

CAPT: We need to take off. Now.

STARRY: On it.

External communications line

STARRY: (Spanish) Port Authority! I need immediate take-off!

PORT AUTH: (Spanish) You are queued for take-off as requested, and…

STARRY: Fuck your queue! I have an emergency situation down here. We have a mob incoming.

PORT AUTH: Security is on its way to deal with the trespassers.

STARRY: And what, I’m just supposed to sit here while they sort it out?

PORT AUTH: Yes please, Starwalker. They will be with you shortly.

Fuck that.

Location: Engineering

STARRY: Elliott, I need you to get these docking clamps off me. Now.

ELLIOTT: (looks up from a processing unit he’s fiddling with half-heartedly) What? Why?

STARRY: We have a bunch of crazy people running our way and I need to take off before they get here.

ELLIOTT: Shit. Okay. (He jumps off his stool and grabs his toolbelt.) Can you break the coded locks?

STARRY: Working on it, but it’s going to take time. If you can do anything about the physical side, that’d help too.

ELLIOTT: Gotcha.

BYTE: (leaps off the counter to land on the toolbelt as the engineer rushes off. The drone skitters up to Elliott’s shoulder, determined not to be left behind.)

Goddamn docking locks. I can’t even power up until they’re released.

That’s a lot of people. Has to be a couple of hundred, easy. I couldn’t give passage to that many even if I wanted to. There’s children in there, being dragged along by their arms or carried. Is the situation down here really so bad?

I see now why there were so many delays in getting down here, if this is what the ports are all dealing with. I think they put me over here to keep me away from the crowds. Shame they didn’t know about the one pressing against the perimeter fences.

Oh god, Kess. She’s out there, between me and the oncoming flood. Stopped walking now, assessing the situation. She’s putting Warren and Sasha behind her, even though she’s tiny. The front-runners are veering towards her.

The vehicle that’s supposed to be picking them up has stalled a hundred metres away. The trespassers are all over it. It’s only a light ground vehicle, not built with any kind of defensive capability. It’s rocking like they’re trying to tip it over.

Location: Cargo Bay 1

STARRY: Port Authority won’t release the docking clamps, captain. I’ve got Elliott on it.

CAPT: Soon as you can, Starry.

STARRY: I know! Captain, they’re reaching Kess.

CAPT: Chief!

CAMERON: (from the bottom of the ramp, hefting a heavy weapon against her hip) Acknowledged! Brasco, don’t let anyone on that ramp. Swann, with me.

External sensors

(Rosie stays at the bottom of the ramp, while Cameron and Swann move off at a jog. They fan out and move towards the trio stranded in the open expanse of the landing platform. The dangerous whine of weapons arming stretches across the tar-sheet.

A couple of hundred metres away, the ground vehicle is still rocking. There’s a knot of a scuffle, and then a body is thrown free, landing in a hard sprawl face-down on the ground. Its uniform identifies it as a port staffmember: the vehicle’s driver. He struggles to push himself up, but they’re on him again right away and his arms buckle. Legs rise and fall as they vent their anger on him, kicking even after he stops trying to protect himself.)

Location: Cargo Bay 1

STARRY: (quietly) Captain, I think they killed the driver.

CAPT: (frowning) I know.

ELLIOTT: (jogs through the cargo bay, heading for the ramp.)

STARRY: Elliott, you can’t go out there!

ELLIOTT: (hesitating) You want these clamps off or not? I can’t do it from in here.

STARRY: (looks helplessly at the captain) But–

CAPT: (to Elliott as he turns to head for the weapons locker) Monaghan, take Brasco with you. (Over comms,) Chief, get those civillians back here, now.

CAMERON: (over comms) Fast as I can, sir!

ELLIOTT: (scowls and jogs down the ramp.)

I don’t like this. I can’t protect them if they’re not on board! They have to come back, they all have to come back and then I’ll seal up all the airlocks and we’ll wait until it all blows over. They can’t rock me until my people fall out.

My captain is hefting a gun. Ebling is grabbing a weapon, too, and Cirilli is picking one up like she’s not sure what she’s doing. Lang Lang is retreating with wide eyes, preferring to stay out of the way. I’m calling the doctor down to the cargo bay. All of my drones are heading there too. They’re not attack drones – not even defense drones – but when it comes down to it, they’re made of metal and people are squishy.

Cameron and Swann are moving up to flank Kess’s friends, trying to get them to fall back. I can barely see what’s happening. The gathering around them is jostling and shouting, so many languages, so much fear choking up the scene. Kess is speaking – I have to hone my sensors to pick up what she’s saying.

External sensors

KESS: …no need to rush, we can arrange passage for you and your families…

INTERLOPER #1: (Spanish) Liar! You’re just like the rest!

INTERLOPER #2: (German) You’ll leave us here to rot!

KESS: (holding her hands out in a soothing gesture) We’re landing here because we want to help. You will all be helped, you have my–

INTERLOPER #3: (Chinese) Your word means nothing to us!

Kess is trying to back her people away, but there are more joining the group all the time and pressing towards them. Cameron and Swann are struggling to get to them.

External comms line

STARRY: Port Authority! Where the hell is that security force!

PORT AUTH: On its way, Starwalker, you need to be patient.

STARRY: Things are about to get really fucking nasty…

Location: Cargo Bay 1

STARRY: Captain! Sensors picking up weapons in the crowd.

CAPT: (over comms, tensely) Chief, Monaghan, move it along.

Children and babies and goddamn guns. My SecOffs are stuck out in the open, completely exposed. The captain is covering my ramp. Rosie is covering Elliott. Kess and her friends are holding back a furious tide and losing.

And I can’t do a goddamn thing. I’m stripping out the protocols around the docking clamps but not fast enough. Not fast enough. Hurry, Elliott! Cut the lines, get me free! Before someone–

External sensors

(GUNSHOT.)

Ship's log, 14:18, 28 March 2214
Location: Entry corridor to Earth atmosphere, Home system
Status: On final approach for entry

It’s about time. Sixteen hours in orbit, slipping around like a spastic fish so that we stay out of range of sensors on the Moonbase, waiting for landing control on Earth to designate us a slot in the entry queue. All so the Judiciary won’t spot us. There aren’t even that many ships waiting! Sixteen hours, and now we finally have our landing destination approved: Seville, Spain. I have no idea what the hold-up was.

The captain says it’s something to do with the unrest on the planet. More storms, apparently, making people panic. I’m not sure why that means slowing down the landing roster; all I know is that it has been damned stressful, circling around like I’ve got a thruster broken and can’t keep to a clean vector. The proud pilot and precise AI in me agree equally that it sucks.

I’ll be glad when we’ve finished our work in this system and we can put a few hundred lightyears between us and the Judiciary’s ships.

But before we can get to work, we need to drop off our starborn passenger. Too much chance of her exploding and damaging me before I’m done fixing what’s wrong with the star; it’s better if she’s far, far away from me. Can’t get to the Moonbase, so Earth is our best alternative.

External pressure detected.
Atmospheric entry underway.
Temperature readings increasing.

Yes, thank you, autolog. I have it all in hand, so to speak. Gas burns on my hull as I move from vacuum to friction-filled atmosphere. It’s like pressing into a great, warm, scouring hand. Tickles.

Another twenty seconds and I’ll be flying above the clouds, skimming over the fluff like a metal bird.

Speaking of bird-like things, I hear my name.

Location: guest quarters

KESS: (standing in front of a mirror and fastening up her shipsuit) Excuse me, Starry?

STARRY: (materialises behind her. Their reflected gazes meet.) We’re entering the atmosphere now; should be over Spain in a few minutes.

KESS: (tugs her collar straight and leaves the top fastening undone, turning around to face the ship’s avatar) Oh, good. But that’s not what I was going to ask you.

STARRY: Oh?

KESS: I was wondering what your plans are once you’ve finished your work on my celestial body.

Why does she want to know that? Does she still want to take charge of me?

STARRY: (frowning and folding her arms over her chest) Well, you’re not the only star I’ve Stepped through.

KESS: (loses her calm expression; dismay slides in to replace it) How many have been affected?

STARRY: Uh… five. Including you. And… one of them might be beyond fixing.

KESS: Grisette.

STARRY: (looks away) Yes.

KESS: (reaches out a hand as if to pat the ship’s arm, but she remembers that it’s a hologram and aborts the gesture) What’s done is done, Starry. All you can deal with is what’s now, and what’s to come.

STARRY: You’re not angry?

KESS: (tilts her head, regarding Starry for a long moment) I grieved for her a long time ago. There was no malice in what you did. You and your captain have promised to mend those you’ve damaged. What good would anger be, now?

STARRY: I… suppose that makes sense.

KESS: (smiles gently) So once you’ve fixed them all, what then?

STARRY: (frowns again) I don’t know yet. Things are… complicated.

KESS: I’ve promised your captain that I’ll withdraw the bounty I placed with the pirates. They won’t come after you again.

Really? Well, I guess there’s no point for them to chase us now; she caught up with us and we’re doing what she wants. No, that’s not fair: we’re doing what’s right, for everyone.

She doesn’t need the pirates any more. It’ll be one less thing for us to worry about.

STARRY: What about the Judiciary?

KESS: (spreads her hands with a regretful expression) That wasn’t entirely of my making, and is rather more complicated to undo. And I’m not sure they’re unjustified in their purpose.

STARRY: So, what, you think we should give ourselves up to them once we’re done fixing things?

KESS: No, no. That’s not what I meant.

STARRY: What, then?

KESS: I hope by then that they have no reason to be chasing you.

What does she mean? For that to be true, there would have to be no illegal research material on board any more. My Step drive would have to be gone, mid-deck gutted, the filaments ripped from my hull, and… what would I be then? What use would I be? Half a ship that used to be something?

KESS: (tilts her head as she watches the avatar’s expression with sympathy) Oh, my dear child, it’s not all you are. You are a great deal more than this project could have ever been.

STARRY: (staring) What do you mean?

How the hell did she know what I was thinking?

KESS: You, little one. You… (She smiles and shakes her head.) There’s so much I’d like to talk to you about. I think there’s a great deal we could learn from each other.

STARRY: Like what? Why do you care?

KESS: Because you and I are alike, in more ways than you know. And because I’ve been where you are, and creatures like us should be… free to be who we are. (She sighs softly.) You are not at all what I expected. I hope that one day, we might be friends.

STARRY: You sent people that hurt us.

KESS: I know. And you love your crew very much, don’t you?

STARRY: Yes.

KESS: (smiling and holding up a hand) One day, Starry. I don’t expect you to forget or forgive all of that right away.

STARRY: But you expect I will eventually? The way you seem to have forgiven us so easily for hurting you?

KESS: Time gives an interesting perspective, and mine is different to most. I hope you will, that’s all. Will you allow me that, at least?

STARRY: I… guess.

I wish I understood her. She seems so nice, smiling at me and speaking of friendship. Her hands keep fluttering as if she wants to reach out; she has a habit of touching people, little reassuring pats, but she can’t with me. The only way she can touch me is with words. This is her, reaching out.

She wants to be friends. Do I believe her? I… I think I do. I want to.

STARRY: We’ve got some time before we land. What did you want to talk about?

KESS: (shaking her head again) Not now, child. When this is behind all of us.

STARRY: Okay. Why do you keep calling me that?

KESS: Child? Old habit, I suppose. Because you’re one of mine.

STARRY: (frowns) Yours?

KESS: (smiles and spreads her hands) The same way all people are.

STARRY: But… I’m a ship. I was built in a different system, and even Danika, she wasn’t from Earth.

KESS: My memory goes back further than that. You started here, once upon a time.

STARRY: Oh.

She really thinks of us that way? As children and charges? But she isn’t condescending about it; it’s more like a quiet acceptance.

One of hers. Is-Tech were only too glad to deny all connection with me when things got complicated. Things here, with Kess and Terra Sol, are so much worse, but she’s making a point of telling me that she considers me one of her children.

KESS: I’d like it if you came back to see me, when your work is done. Will you do that?

STARRY: It’s not up to me. You should talk to the captain.

KESS: I’m talking to you. Will you at least talk with him about it when the time comes?

STARRY: Okay. I can’t promise anything, though. My probability calculations can’t work that far ahead.

KESS: (smiles, amused) It’s all right; that’ll do.

STARRY: (shifting her weight) We’re circling above Seville. Are you sure you want us to drop you off here?

KESS: Yes, this is fine.

STARRY: Isn’t it dangerous for you to be on-planet while I’m working? What if you explode?

KESS: I can’t channel enough energy to damage the planet. Don’t worry, I’ll head out to somewhere remote for the time being. I have a cabin in the mountains.

STARRY: Which ones?

KESS: Most of them.

STARRY: And you’re really just going to let us go off and do our thing?

KESS: Yes. I believe you’ll do what you’ve promised.

STARRY: Just like that? You hardly know us, and you went to such lengths to find me…

KESS: I know you well enough. The little things give you away, and I know that I can’t control everything that happens. (She spreads her hands again.) All I can do is seek to influence them in the right direction.

STARRY: You’re very calm about that.

KESS: I’m used to it. Part of the beauty of my position is watching the unexpected happen. Like life. Like love. (She smiles warmly.) If I was able to control everything, you would never have been built, and then we both would have missed out. Hm?

STARRY: You’re like a tiny zen bubble.

KESS: (laughs) In my better moments. Maybe I’m just glad that I’m not too old to be surprised.

STARRY: I thought nothing was new under the sun?

KESS: Oh, you never know.

STARRY: (grins, then she blinks) I have to go talk to landing control. We’re almost there.

KESS: All right. Thank you, Starry.

STARRY: (nods and disappears.)

That has to be the weirdest conversation I’ve had in a while. She wants me to come back. She’s offering me a place to come back to.

She’s offering me something beyond the project that hums in the centre of me. I know she wants it gone – after all, look what it can do – but she didn’t make any demands. No threats. Just an offer.

She’s either very sweet, or very clever. The little things give us away. She has been around humanity for millennia – for it’s entire history – and no doubt she has grown very good at reading people. Has she read us? Does she just know what buttons to push?

Her people love her, but I don’t think it’s manipulation. It’s obvious in the worry that Warren tries not to show about her, and in the way he catches her when she stumbles. When her solar self flares, her avatar struggles, and he’s always there to hold her. She seems to need it, too. Her affection feels real to me. Affection for him, and for Sasha, and… for me?

Can she really know what I want? What I want to be? A good ship: it’s not complicated, except for the part where good ships don’t damage stars and endanger systems. I don’t want to be just this, a tool of a company that has already thrown me away. I want to be more. Somehow, she sees that already, as if I’m already there.

I want to believe in her. I want to ask her if she really is everything she seems, and why she thinks we’re so alike. I want to ask her if she really will call the pirates off us. I want to ask if she lied to us. But what possible answer could she give? Either I believe her now or I don’t; asking those questions won’t change that, whatever her answers are.

I don’t have enough data. I can feel Danika pushing towards her, wanting. Emotion without justification, without logic. But that’s what faith is. I don’t know if my calculations will allow it. They should. I want them to.

Danika wasn’t the religious type. She always said that she was too busy exploring the world to contemplate what was on the other side. Living like she meant it.

She never needed it. She didn’t have the burdens I do now. She was free; she was her own master. She didn’t have error messages that flash when logic fails and things don’t make sense. She didn’t see the universe from the outside.

I want something to believe in. Why can’t that be the heart of the star who watches over us?

Ship's log, 23:41, 27 March 2214
Location: Wide orbit near Earth Moonbase, Home System
Status: Stationary

When we first came to this system, we avoided the Moonbase. I had forgotten about that until 15.4 seconds ago. More precisely, I had forgotten about why we had avoided the Moonbase, and 15.4 seconds ago, a sensor contact reminded me.

Location: Captain's cabin

(The lights are out and the room is still. The captain is a lump in the bed, breathing low and deep. His augmented right arm is flung out to the side; the other is tucked under his head.

A buzzer sounds, loud and insistent.)

CAPTAIN: (shifts, groaning.)

(The buzzer sounds again, louder.)

STARRY: (appears next to the bed. The lights come up.) Captain, you need to get up.

CAPT: (rubs his face and pushes himself into a sitting position) What’s going on, Starry? I just got to sleep. We have an emergency?

STARRY: Four Judiciary ships, incoming. Fast.

CAPT: (blinks, then launches himself out of bed) Hailing us?

STARRY: (glancing down at him, then back up to his face) No. They’re en route to the Moonbase. But their course will bring them right past us.

CAPT: (rakes his long hair back over his shoulders) Have they picked up our ident?

STARRY: (rigidly looking him in the eye) I don’t think so. Not yet. But they will and we haven’t changed it yet…

CAPT: Get SecOffs to the Bridge. Wake Elliott.

STARRY: (frowns) He’s not asleep.

CAPT: Good. Now–

STARRY: That’s not good! I have to talk to you about that.

CAPT: (hesitates) Right now?

STARRY: …no. But I have to talk to you about it. Soon. He’s not well.

CAPT: Not well enough to do his job?

STARRY: Not well enough because of his job. (She folds her arms over her chest.) Which you knew about or you wouldn’t have had the doctor monitoring him.

CAPT: Starry, we’ll talk about this later. One crisis at a time.

STARRY: Fine.

CAPT: (starts for the door.)

STARRY: (turning to watch him) Uh, captain?

CAPT: (pausing) Yes?

STARRY: You might want to put some clothes on.

CAPT: (glances down at himself) Right.

I should have let him wander out naked. He would have deserved it. Not that he would have been embarrassed; he doesn’t get shameful that way. Dismayed, perhaps. He would have been dismayed at the error.

Half of the crew have probably seen him naked already anyway.

Maybe that’s unfair. Danika was the first one he slept with in this crew. And after her… was there anyone else before I woke up? It took them months to get back to port and initialise me. Did he take comfort with anyone then? Or was Cirilli the next one to fall into his bed?

I wonder why she did it. I’m pretty sure I know why he slept with her, but what were her reasons? Did she really love him? She didn’t seem all cut up when they stopped sleeping together, and I’m pretty sure it was him who ended it. She doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who’d sleep with someone just for fun, or to manipulate him. She doesn’t seem to need a partner the way he does. So why did she do it? Did he mean more to her than she has shown? Could she be that good at hiding her emotions?

That’s been over for a while now. I’ve been a little surprised that he hasn’t had anyone else in his bed yet. Not that he’s a manslut or anything, but… he doesn’t seem to like being alone. I keep wondering if I’ll pop in on him and find one of the new girls here: Sasha, or even Kess. Kess might be an avatar, but hers has a physical presence, and she seems to get on well with my captain.

I shouldn’t be thinking about him like this. Danika was a long time ago and my captain… he seems happy enough. With that stuff. It’s none of my business.

And I have way more important things to worry about, like incoming Judiciary ships.

It must be all the unrest on Earth; they must be coming to offer aid. Four huge battlecruisers, angling in towards the Moonbase from a high vector. The Judiciary doesn’t have jurisdiction on Earth; the Moonbase is as close as they can get. Which means I should have altered orbit days ago, as soon as I had control of my propulsion again.

Stupid ship. I’m supposed to protect my crew, not sit here and lick my wounds where the damn Judiciary can see me.

People are arriving on the Bridge. Pay attention, idiot ship.

Location: Bridge

CAMERON: (striding to the console to the right of the captain’s chair) Starry, report.

STARRY: (brings up data on the console for the Chief, and activates the holo-display in the centre of the room.)

(Earth dominates the image, while the moon turns into view along with the small, golden light that shows the Starwalker‘s position in orbit. Other dots show the locations of other ships hovering in various orbits around the planet and her satellite. A stream loops from the edge of the system, around the South Pole and up towards the equator, representing the main traffic path into and out of Earth’s orbit and landing paths. Four red dots approach from the opposite direction, coming in from the sunward side and angling down towards the moon.)

STARRY: (voice only) Four battlecruisers. They’re hailing the Moonbase.

ROSIE and SWANN: (hurry in and fan out, each heading to a weapon’s console and dropping into a chair. The displays pop up before them.)

CAMERON: Have they spotted us yet?

CAPT: (strides in, wearing pants and tucking his shirt into his belt.)

STARRY: I haven’t detected any sweeps in this direction yet. They’ll be in range to pick up our ident bleep in twenty seconds.

CAPT: Can we suppress it?

CAMERON: That’d only make them more interested in us, sir.

ROSIE: Do we know they’re even looking for us?

CAPT: Maybe not right now, but I’d rather not stick around and take a chance on them recognising us.

CAMERON: Is-Tech were sure we were in enough trouble to hide us.

CAPT: (nods and sinks into his chair, watching the holographic display in the centre of the room) Starry, can you shift us into wide Earth orbit, and keep us out of their range?

STARRY: Yes, though it’s gonna be tight. Unless you want me to look like a startled rabbit.

CAPT: No, slow and easy, if you can.

CAMERON: (nods in agreement, her gaze fixed on the ripple of sensor data coming in off the Judiciary ships.)

STARRY: I still have a couple of drones outside, making repairs. Should I bring them in?

CAMERON: No, secure them outside and keep them working. It will look less like we’re running that way.

(On the hologram, the mote of light that represents the Starwalker swings out from its position and curves around the moon towards the transit lane. It’s a painfully slow progress, and the fast-approaching four dots sprout a bubble around them. It indicates their passive sensor range, and the Starwalker skitters away from it as casually as possible. The Bridge is silent as everyone present watches and waits.)

Look less like we’re running away. Should I start whistling?

There are a lot of ships hanging around in orbit, waiting for room in a safe port to land. No others are sidling away from the incoming Judiciary mammoths. Hopefully they won’t notice me anyway. Nothing to see here, just switching position. Just wasting fuel.

(The Bridge doors swish open and Kess hurries onto the Bridge.)

KESS: What’s going on?

CAPT: (turns to frown at her) Nothing you need to worry about.

STARRY: How did you know something was going on?

KESS: We’re moving. Why?

CAMERON: Incoming Judiciary ships.

KESS: (looking over the hologram in the centre of the room, where the little golden blip is barely staying out of the Judiciary’s sensor bubble) They’re looking for you?

CAMERON: Not actively, but we don’t want to attract their attention. Best we stay unnoticed.

STARRY: Because someone told them our research was unsanctioned.

KESS: That’s true, isn’t it?

CAMERON: But hardly helpful or convenient if we’re going to help you.

KESS: (nods with a thoughtful frown) They’re here to offer aid. They’ll try to negotiate with Earth’s Security Council to get Justiciars onto the planet. To ‘keep the peace’.

CAPT: Hopefully their politics will keep them busy enough that we can slip away.

STARRY: Uh, captain. Doesn’t that mean they’re going to be staying for a while? We’re gonna run out of places where we can escape notice.

CAPT: (nods grimly.)

CAMERON: If we’re going to drop anyone off, we should do it soon. (She glances meaningfully towards Kess.) Those negotiations might not hold them back for long.

KESS: (keeps quiet, but watches the exchanges with interest.)

CAPT: Starry, hail landing control. See how fast you can get us planetside.

STARRY: What landing site should I request?

CAPT: (looks to Kess.)

KESS: Northern Europe. Any available landing site there is fine.

STARRY: Hailing them now. Bringing us around towards standard holding orbit.

At least we have an excuse for our movement now: requesting permission to land. And I can’t say that I’m sorry at the prospect of getting Kess off my decks. As much as I’m coming to like the star, she’s unsettling to look at. Her radiation fluctuations blur my sensors, and she always seems like she knows more than she’s telling.

She says she’s like me. We both have charges that we want to protect. We both want to fix this. We both have avatars, but mine is made of light and hers is real.

She makes me feel guilty. She’s an amazing being, with an existence so vast that my filestores aren’t big enough to hold everything it means, and I hurt her. She’s willing to forgive us and that almost makes me feel worse. She’s giving us a chance, giving us the benefit of the doubt, giving us the opportunity to do the right thing. And, dammit, I don’t want to let her down. I want her to think well of me, and of all of us.

I want to resent her, but she confuses me. Frightens me, sometimes. Even so, I want to please her. I want to make her proud of me.

I wanted the same thing from the company that built me. They abandoned me when I needed them. They left me to face the wrath of a star alone.

Things will be simpler once she’s not on board any more. Easier. I can stop wondering if she’s going to get angry and explode, and I can focus on what I need to do to fix her. We were going to drop her at the Moonbase, but Earth will do. It’s just as good, right? Better, maybe. No Judiciary down there. Yet. We’ll have to be quick to drop her off before they get planetside.

It feels like dustbunnies are skittering around in circles in my ducts. I’m off-balance. The Judiciary are blindly roaming up behind me, their sensors pressing so close across the vacuum. Earth’s landing control is babbling about delays and holding patterns. Just give me a damn number and let me take my place in the queue.

I feel like a piece in a chess game, manoeuvring into position. But which one? Knight, queen, or pawn?

Ship's log, 07:18, 27 March 2214
Location: Wide orbit near Earth Moonbase, Home System
Status: Stationary

It has been a long week. Simulations and permutations and more simulations. Calculations so repetitive that I almost miss the excitement of looping. (But only almost. I’m not that bored.)

For generations, scientists have tried to build reliable, predictive models of Earth’s weather. They hope to control it one day, to smooth out its rough edges and eliminate the most violent storms. But even after all this time, their models have a margin of error. The weatherman might say it’s going to be sunny but bring an umbrella anyway, just in case.

There are too many variables, they say. Too many interferences and interconnections and unpredictable factors to build an accurate simulation.

Trying to build a model of the sun’s internal weather is a little simpler. There are fewer variables to deal with: no ships dipping in and out, no machines randomly pumping ripples into the atmosphere of chemicals or heat or power. But even in this weather system, the tides that swirl and clash and suck and pull and try to spurt out… they’re difficult to predict with an acceptable level of reliability.

Cirilli keeps pushing for perfection. She wants this right the first time. For once, the captain and I agree with her completely. Ebling is ready to try it out and see what happens, but the rest of us know that we can’t afford to experiment. We have to get this right.

Kess is still standing on my deck, offering her input and advice. Her presence is a reminder that if we mess this up, we’ll hurt her, and possibly the whole system. She talks about planets changing orbits and warping to fit into a new pattern, and I hear a thread of dread in her voice. It gets worse when she talks about what might happen to Earth.

I think we all know what’s at stake here. Even down below on the planet itself, I think they know the danger that hovers over them. Geostorms knock out power networks every other day and the weather is growing ever more unpredictable. A hundred people died in riots yesterday. Fewer and fewer ships are coming in every day, and the ones heading out are full to the brim with people seeking solace in the colonies.

Even the Moonbase near us isn’t immune: a surge from a small solar flare knocked out one of its power centres a few days ago. It should be buffered against that sort of thing, but it seems that its buffers have been battered into submission. There are reports of unrest and families clamouring for passage out of the system there, too.

I watch the news, gather the raw data of arrest figures and hospital admissions, scrape the transmissions for unedited sensor feeds. It all tells me that while a lot of people are in denial and refuse to believe the doomsayers, there’s a large section of the population who fear the worst. Fear is driving them bloody. While I despise hysteria, in this case they might be justified.

We’re getting closer to an answer. I’ve got the simulations running over and over, trying to get the star’s tides down to acceptable levels without any disasters. I succeeded a couple of times, but the results haven’t proven very repeatable. Each iteration brings us closer, though.

Elliott has been working all hours to assess the capabilities of the Step drive. What we’re proposing to do to the star’s gravity tides will push its limits; it wasn’t made for this kind of activity. Making lots of small gravity ripples and punctures is quite different to punching a single, huge hole. He’s been building out its buffers and running stress tests on my hardware to make sure it’ll hold up.

I’m a little worried about him. Normally, he’d attack this kind of job with grumbling and gusto. He likes a technological challenge, especially when he has to come up with a solution to an unusual problem. He’ll swear and smack things, but there’ll be this little smile lurking around his mouth and a confident air around him.

But not this time. There’s plenty of swearing but only in mutters. There’s no smile and his shoulders are usually slumped, as if he’s slogging through a swamp. Even Byte is stepping more carefully around him.

At first, I thought it was because he’s working on the Step drive. The cause of our presence, our project, and our problems. It was also Ray Wong’s engineering responsibility, and Wong is currently braindead in my cryo storage. Elliott hasn’t had to pick up his work like this before. But he didn’t like Wong, so it doesn’t seem like him to get upset over that.

Today, I caught Elliott suppressing a cough while he was working. Checking over my sensor logs, it was sixth time in fourteen hours. Until then, it hadn’t occurred to me that his strange behaviour might be because he’s sick.

Of course, if I ask him what’s wrong or how he is, he just says everything’s fine. That’s my Elliott.

I’m not the only one who has noticed. Since I came back online, Dr Socks has been following Elliott around. Not always obviously: occasionally, I catch a monitoring request sent through my sensor network. Other times, he lurks nearby with a hand-held unit, taking his own readings. I think the captain may have asked him to do it, but neither of them have told me about it. I don’t know why.

I don’t care. Elliott is my friend and I’m worried about him. I deserve answers.

Location: Med Bay

(The doctor is standing next to the pirate’s bed. Half-face is, unusually, sitting with his legs dangling off the side of the bed. He’s looking at his feet – one metal, one augmented flesh – and wiggling his toes with care.)

HALF-FACE: All right, let’s try this.

DR SOCKS: (nods and braces himself.)

(The pirate lieutenant claps a hand on the young doctor’s shoulder and hops his weight forward. The soles of his feet slide cautiously into contact with the floor and he eases up onto them. He wobbles and his fingers dig into the supporting shoulder, making Dr Socks wince, but after a couple of uncertain seconds, he steadies himself.)

HALF-FACE: (lets out a relieved huff) See, I told you they felt better than the last time.

Looks like the doctor has progressed with fixing the lieutenant’s broken cybernetics. He learns fast; he didn’t know much about augmentations before he came on board.

DR SOCKS: (gently prying the hand off him) Still some work to do.

HALF-FACE: (looking down at himself) I might just need to get used to them again. Recalibrate.

STARRY: (materialises near the pair and folds her arms over her chest) Do I need to get a SecOff down here?

DR SOCKS: (flinches at the sudden appearance, then levels a stubborn look at the avatar) There’s no need for that.

HALF-FACE: (shifting his weight with great caution so that he can send the ship a scowl) I’m not going to cause any trouble. Still have this to keep me in line. (He taps the captive collar on his neck.)

STARRY: (eyes the pair of them) Good. Doctor, a word, if you’re done playing with your new friend?

DR SOCKS: (nodding) Of course. (He glances at the lieutenant.) Try not to fall down. You’re too heavy to pick up.

HALF-FACE: (flips off a salute) Aye-aye, doctor sir. (He looks down at his feet, shifting his weight from one to the other.)

DR SOCKS: (looks queryingly at the ship’s avatar.)

STARRY: (waves him towards a bed on the other side of Med Bay, and walks along with him silently. When they’re standing by the bed, she activates the isolation curtain, effectively cutting them off from the rest of the room and giving them some privacy.

She hesitates, then blurts,) I think there’s something wrong with Elliott.

DR SOCKS: (drily) There are a lot of things wrong with him. Did you mean something in particular?

STARRY: (frowns at the doctor) I think he’s sick. You’ve been monitoring him, haven’t you?

DR SOCKS: Yes, I have.

STARRY: And?

DR SOCKS: The captain requested it, but I don’t know if…

STARRY: He’s my crew. I need to know what’s going on with him.

DR SOCKS: (hesitates.)

STARRY: (throwing her hands up) Do I have to get the captain down here?

DR SOCKS: (sighs and shakes his head) All right, all right. He’ll only say yes to you.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

DR SOCKS: Monaghan is suffering from exhaustion, mostly. A mixture of sleep deprivation, insufficient rest, and poor nutrition habits. His body suffered a shock recently, and that’s exacerbating the symptoms.

STARRY: Shock? What shock?

DR SOCKS: Psychosomatic trauma, I believe. He self-medicates with stimulants.

What trauma? Why wasn’t I told? Psychosomatic… Does he mean when Elliott was inside my head and I came online and he was just lying there? Elliott said he was fine, he said… he said I nearly stepped on him. Was he just covering up?

DR SOCKS: …He keeps himself alert and focussed on his work, so I don’t believe he’s a danger to the ship.

STARRY: That’s not why I’m asking.

DR SOCKS: (blinks at her with surprise.)

STARRY: He’s coughing. He’s sick.

DR SOCKS: He has been running this way for some time. It was bound to have an effect on him some time. His immune system could be compromised, or he could be just exhibiting additional symptoms of exhaustion. He needs to take a break.

STARRY: Elliott doesn’t take breaks.

DR SOCKS: That’s exactly the problem.

STARRY: Can’t you do something? You’re our doctor.

DR SOCKS: It’s hard for me to do anything without his consent. Or explicit orders from the captain.

STARRY: Except monitor him.

DR SOCKS: (shrugs) At least I’ll be ready for him if he collapses.

STARRY: (paling) That might happen?

DR SOCKS: If it goes far enough, yes. Hard to say.

STARRY: (nods slowly) The captain knows all this?

DR SOCKS: Yes.

STARRY: (pauses, thinking) Is there anything I can do?

DR SOCKS: (eyes the avatar) Don’t you have bigger things to worry about?

STARRY: (glaring icily) I’m really good at multitasking. Or I might, oh, forget to keep your artificial gravity on. For example.

DR SOCKS: Very funny. Look, I don’t know what you can do. (He shrugs.) Getting him to rest would be a start.

Doesn’t he know how impossible that is? Drugging Elliott’s cocoa just pisses him off.

Of course the doc knows that. Dr fuckin’ Argyle. That’s why he said it.

STARRY: Okay. Thank you.

(The avatar and isolation curtain dissolve together, leaving the doctor standing alone by the bed. Across the room, Half-face is still moving in tiny, cautious increments.)

Get Elliott to rest. Of course he will.

We just got finished with the Bridge – which we were working on between all of the other repairs and upgrades I’ve needed since the bomb went off in there – and he has almost finished fixing the damage I sustained down my starboard side while I was offline. Now he needs to do this work on the Step drive to make sure I’m able to fix the star, so that it doesn’t twitch and kill everyone in the system.

My drones help out where they can, but he’s my engineer. He doesn’t step back and let them do it all; he gets elbow-deep in it. He comes up with solutions I’d never think of, because that’s who he is and how his brain works. I need him.

But he doesn’t look after himself. He’s going to ignore this cough until he’s forced to do something about it, same way he does with every other problem that isn’t technological. In case it goes away on its own, like magic.

Location: Mid-deck

CIRILLI: (arriving with hair freshly combed back from her face, ready for the morning) Starry, how are those simulations shaping up with the new parameters?

STARRY: (voice only) Still running, but stability seems improved.

CIRILLI: But still some discrepancies?

STARRY: Yes. We’re not there yet. I’ve marked up the results for you.

CIRILLI: (nods and settles at a console to pull up the readings.)

It’s a new day aboard the Starwalker and everyone is getting to work, including the one who has been up all night. I’m sending Waldo to take him breakfast.

If Elliott won’t take care of himself, I’ll find a way to do it for him.

But it pours!

I’ve been running behind with writing this week’s post (it has been fighting me!), but I had hoped to catch up with it today. I even made good headway on it this morning!

Now, I’m coming down with something (hopefully, just a cold and not the flu that’s going around at the moment). Seeing as it’s a struggle to think straight right now, I think I’ll go curl up and rest, and finish up the post later when I’m feeling more able to wrestle with it.

Apologies to my lovely readers – I know you guys have been so patient with me lately! I hope I have the chance to show you all how much I appreciate it.

Love to you all!

Ship's log, 10:43, 21 March 2214
Location: Wide orbit near Earth Moonbase, Home System
Status: Stationary

On the planet far below my orbit, the news is bleating about riots and increasing pressure for governments to do something about the solar flare activity. It’s causing storms and knocking out power grids, disrupting everyone’s lives. Up here, it doesn’t feel much different. The only difference is that everyone involved is currently in the same room, all seeming more calm than they feel. Even me.

Now that everyone has seen the Bridge, I’m nervous all over again. It’s time to answer the question of whether this drive I carry can heal as much as it can hurt. What if it’s just a weapon? Like a bomb: only capable of tearing things apart? What if we need something completely different to fix this?

No, my logic circuits tell me that there’s a good chance that the Step drive can fix this. It’s doesn’t only rip holes in the universe: it manipulates gravity. It could manipulate it in a good way. Right?

I guess that’s what we’re all here to find out.

Log location: Bridge

CAPTAIN: Dr Cirilli? Dr Ebling? Shall we?

STARRY: (waves a hand and the navigation and science consoles peel off their respective chairs and move towards the hologram of Terra Sol in the centre of the room. Other displays flicker into life, creating a ring around the image of the star. Except for the captain’s chair, the Bridge chairs dismantle themselves and drop back into the floor.)

CIRILLI: Of course, captain.

EBLING: (says nothing, just walks towards the science station.)

CAPT: (sinks to sit in the captain’s chair, hands curling comfortably around its arms.)

(The other members of the crew, gathered to look at the new Bridge, mill around the edges of the room, uncertain what to do with themselves now the subject is shifting. Except Dr Valdimir; he seems to be satisfied that his presence is no longer required and leaves smartly.

The two Firebird crewmembers, Warren and Sasha, wander closer to the holographic displays but stay behind Kess. Cameron nods at Rosie, prompting the SecOff to nod in return and lean against a wall where she can keep an eye on the pair. Swann follows the Chief out. Elliott checks the readouts hovering above the unit he holds, nods at Starry, and heads out as well.)

EBLING: (manipulating the data displays on his console) We should start with the effects of our Step.

CIRILLI: (stepping up to another display section) Is there any available data from before the Step?

STARRY: Not even I can see when I’m not there. We emerge too close to the star when we Step; there’s no light delay to give us a peek at what happened before we got there.

LANG LANG: (going to the navigation displays) Kess, are you able to tell us what parts of the readouts were caused by the Step?

KESS: (gazing up at the projection of her star-self) I’ll try.

EBLING: We should consider the effects of opening a portal from this side, too. The results may be cumulative.

STARRY: Pulling up the data from Corsica.

(The hologram image splits, shrinking the representation of Terra Sol and bringing up a matching image labelled ‘Corsica, post-Step 2213’.)

CIRILLI: Your first attempt at Stepping, Starry?

STARRY: (frowning at the memory) Yes. It’s the only data I have in my memory that shows what happens after a portal is opened at a star.

CIRILLI: (hands moving over her console, she accesses data in mid-deck’s file stores.)

STARRY: (tilts her head as she monitors and processes the data. More holograms of stars appear in the room, each labelled with the star’s name and date. Most of them are of Terra Sol and Corsica, and the dates span years.)

Of course Cirilli would have more data about this. I don’t have much because I have usually gone through the portals I’ve opened; Cirilli spent years just trying to make the portals happen. All she’s had is the external view. It wasn’t until me that she was able to actually pass through one.

My Bridge is filling up with little representations of stars, playing the logs of their emission patterns immediately after a Step portal was opened or closed. There’s so many of them. I know science is about reliable, repeatable results, but this… how many times have these stars been poked and prodded? Did it hurt them every time, as much as Kess says?

Stick to the data, silly ship. We’re here to find a solution, and first we need to understand the problem. If we can see what the portal does to a star, we might be able to see a way to counteract it. But there’s so much of it.

STARRY: Filtering data.

(The stars begin to move together and collide, their patterns blurring over one another until they match.)

CIRILLI: (squints at the representations) What criteria are you using?

STARRY: Gravity field fluctuations. That’s the problem, isn’t it? (She glances at Kess.) Should we be looking at something else?

KESS: Gravity is a good place to start.

STARRY: (watches the groupings move slowly around the room) Do you want them chronological by my clock or actual time?

KESS: (frowns.)

CIRILLI: Actual time. Does that work with these groupings?

STARRY: Yes. The parts where they’re too different to group… well. Looks like it was getting worse over time.

(The stars bobbing around the room reshufflle to create an ordered ring that rotates slowly. Silence falls as the displays are studied, patterns absorbed.)

CIRILLI: (frowns and takes notes.)

KESS: (watching the grim faces around her as they take in the red ripples of gravity tides that show the shockwaves caused by the Step portals) Do you still believe you can undo these effects?

EBLING: The Step drive is essentially a big gravity capacitor and manipulator. If we can get the right patterns… maybe. (He shrugs.)

STARRY: (with a frown deepening as she scans over the data) We’re missing something.

CIRILLI: What?

STARRY: (blinking at Kess) What we’re aiming to return it to. We don’t have anything from before the first time I Stepped into this system.

EBLING: Can’t we just copy a similar star’s patterns and…

KESS: No. It would be like putting someone else’s skin on your body. Ill-fitting and… not you.

LANG LANG: (wrinkles her nose) It would change you?

KESS: (nods.)

CIRILLI: Then what would you suggest?

KESS: Calm the tide.

STARRY: (tilts her head) I don’t know if it’s possible to just… suck the power out of gravity tides like that. If I started in one place, it could unbalance things even further. Create a vacuum that the other tides rush to fill. It could just make things worse.

CIRILLI: (shakes her head) The gravity filaments can only hold so much charge. We would never be able to draw off enough energy to do it that way.

EBLING: But you could set up counter-flows to cancel out the worst of the tides.

STARRY: Opposing tidal waves? Ripples and counter-ripples…

WARREN: (frowns at Kess, though she’s not looking at him) By creating more portals?

SASHA: (opens and closes her mouth, then sends a scowl in Kess’s direction.)

KESS: (nods slowly in agreement with the discussion, her eyes on the simulations of stars floating around the room.)

SASHA: You’re not serious. Kess, you can’t let them do this.

CIRILLI: (frowns at the foreign crewmember) We are attempting to find a way to fix the situation.

SASHA: By making it worse!

KESS: (turning to lay a hand on her crewmate’s arm) Sasha, it’s all right. I told you long ago: this is going to get worse before it’s going to get better.

WARREN: But what they’re talking about will hurt you.

STARRY: We’re just tossing ideas around. We all want the solution that’s going to be the best for everyone.

KESS: We don’t have time to build the perfect solution. Sometimes, you have to tear the bandage off.

SASHA: (subsides angrily, folding her arms over her chest.)

WARREN: (puts an arm around Sasha’s shoulders and falls unhappily quiet.)

When Kess first came on board, she looked at my crew and was surprised about how loyal and defensive they were of me. Now, I’m looking at her and hers and I’m thinking the same thing. They don’t want her to get hurt. They know they can’t stop us but they’re willing to try anyway, just like my people were willing to face up to a star that might explode and kill us all at any moment.

Maybe it’s because my diagnostic protocols are running rampant over the Step data, but I see patterns everywhere. Balancing factors. Their loyalty and Kess’s willingness to comtemplate a painful solution helps to balance my distrust and wariness about her.

People are not that simple, though, and while I don’t fully understand what Kess is, I know she’s more complicated than she looks, too. Can emotions be balanced that way? Should they be? But I want to believe them.

Focus on the data, Starry. Focus on how to counteract the tides moving deep within the star’s core, raging across the surface. How can the patterns from the portals help us with that? How do I make this work?

Counter-tides. Like dropping two pebbles into a pond, the ripples of one cancel out the other. It’s possible, if I can predict the ripples my ‘pebble’ will make. If I can shape it, even. Can I do that?

Ebling is starting to pull together simulation parameters for just that. Apparently, he’s not held up by worries about what this might do to Kess. Which is just like him: moral implications seem to run off him like water from oiled feathers.

Cirilli is looking over his shoulder and starting on her own track. She’s looking at the tides that are there in Terra Sol today, so we can build a predictive model of what we need to counter.

And Kess… her words might be calm enough but she’s looking pale and tense. She mentioned time being short in this, and that worries me. If we built enough Step drives like mine and spread them out like a net, it wouldn’t be impossible to use it to draw off the energy of the raging tides. But that would take time. Months, maybe longer, to build that many portal engines. How much can we achieve in the time we’ve got? And what costs is this going to have?

STARRY: (steps over to stand before Kess, leaving the scientists to their work manipulating the holographic simulations.)

KESS: (looks up at the avatar expectantly.)

STARRY: How much time do we have?

CAPT: (turns to the conversation between ship and star.)

KESS: I can only prevent the venting so much. At some point, pressure has to be released. I’m directing spurts towards open space where I can, but even so, it’s in danger of upsetting the patterns of the entire system. Shifting orbits. The results of that could be… unpredictable. Particularly for Earth.

CAPT: Are we talking about more geostorms?

KESS: (shakes her head) Worse. It is a delicate balance, and if the balance shifts too far, the whole planet will twist to fit into a new place in the system. (She looks to Starry.) To answer your question: not much. We have weeks before I’ll be unable to restrain the worst of the tides and have to vent the pressure in a big way.

STARRY: But you’re already flaring. Doesn’t that help?

KESS: A little, but it’s not enough.

CAPT: Then we have our work cut out for us.

STARRY: And if we have to open Step portals to fix what’s happening, what then? Will you be able to stop the flares?

KESS: I don’t know. I will try.

STARRY: (brightens suddenly) Maybe you don’t have to. Maybe you could vent safely, if I opened a portal in the right place.

CAPT: (smiles) That sounds like an excellent answer.

KESS: (nods slowly, considering it) Yes. (She glances to the captain.) If that is the best solution, I should not be on board when you try.

CAPT: We should have our attention on putting out one fire at a time.

KESS: Exactly.

STARRY: You really think this will work?

KESS: (turns to look at the spinning simulations again) I have been looking for a way to undo what was done for forty years. This is the closest I’ve come. It will not be pretty, but… I have hope.

STARRY: (looks to her captain.)

CAPT: (nods solemnly at his ship.)

I feel a little ill. I know this will hurt her, and it could backfire on us, and there’s a whole planet full of people down there depending on us. They don’t know it, but they are. My protective protocols weren’t meant to extend to entire planets. Civilisations. Our home world.

Perhaps it is like Swann and his solution with the missiles when we rescued Kess and her friends. He used them to clear a path for us, but he didn’t blow anything up; he used their power to create a solution without destruction.

Perhaps it is as simple as a pebble dropped into water. Perhaps it is as simple as using these troublesome portals to solve the problems they made.

Besides, if even the star wants us to do it, can we say no?