(On the Hunt) Chapter 9

Pride: On the Hunt

Chapter 9

Among the Stars

As it turned out, ships with hyperspace thrusters could take advantage of some much more interesting phenomena than those without. Their trip to Kaliega was being substantially shortened by something called a complex hyperluminal current. Nothing nearly as exciting as a spatial rift, but Lance had spent the last several hours hunched over the helm, jumping the Bolt from wave to wave with flawless precision as Sven called them out. It was fun… but damn, were his shoulders sore.

Now the wave jumping was Keith's problem for awhile, and he was off to loosen up. The gym was waiting. And he might have heard from his roommate that something particularly entertaining might be going on there today.

He spotted Daniel in the corridor ahead as he stepped off the elevator, and grinned. "Kid, hey kid! Come on, you're with me."

Daniel had been in his way to the galley; he was starving. But he wasn't really going to pass up that invitation. Or order. Or whatever it was. In any case, things with Lance were always interesting, so he followed. "Uh, where're we going?"

"Everyone's favorite medic is gonna be getting his ass handed to him in the gym. No one should miss this."

Ooooh. Yeah, that would definitely be worth the detour. "Awesome!"

Jace and Hunk were sparring.

In theory.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. The boss had said he wanted everyone to keep their hand to hand skill up, they'd had some overlap in their free time, they probably owed each other at least a few punches by now. Both of them had neglected to consider one minor issue. For Hunk, it was that his opponent wasn't going to just stay there and get hit—he hadn't even landed a punch yet. For Jace, it was a little less elementary. He found himself at a size disadvantage more often than not when sparring; ground fighting was an effective equalizer against people with greater strength and reach. But he had to get them to the ground somehow. And pulling this guy down on top of him would probably kill him.

That left him using his peripheral skillset, which still wasn't bad, against most people. Ducking a punch, he jumped up and landed a clean kick to the big engineer's ribs. It didn't accomplish much. He all but bounced off, landing gracelessly on the mat. On his ass.

Hunk looked down at him, rubbing his ribs with a slight wince. "That didn't look great, bro."

"That wasn't great. Fuck."

Lance had just stepped in the door, and begged to differ. "Beautiful ass fallage, Doc." Behind him, Daniel snickered.

Jace looked up, scowling. "…The fuck are you here?"

"Entertainment purposes."

"What the fuck did you think? No way we'd miss this."

He glared at Hunk, who offered him a brilliantly innocent smile. "I mighta mentioned we had plans?" He leaned over, offering the medic a have up. "He's my roomie, it happens."

No doubt. Well, whatever. He could take it, this whole sparring thing had been his dumb idea. "Okay fine, but this is a play-only tournament. We get to see how you two do later." He accepted Hunk's hand, attempting to pull him to the floor; he barely budged. "…Dude."

As soon as he stopped pulling, Hunk toppled over and hit the mat. "Oh no, ya got me, Doc."

Lance snickered. "Against you? After this? No problem, we've got this, right kid?"

Daniel raised an eyebrow. That was not what he'd been invited for. "No thanks."

"Don't think I gave you a choice, Brennan." Jace hadn't looked up from glaring at Hunk, who was still lying motionless on his back. It would figure if he'd done actual damage voluntarily falling. "Giant donut dude, you uh, gonna be okay there?"

"No. Help. Ouch. Save me."

"Okay, that's a yes." He stood up and shrugged. "We'll fight around you if we've got to."

At that Hunk hopped up, cracking his knuckles and grinning. "Nah, I'm good. Doc, go a round with Lance, yeah? I've gotta, uh, recover."

No fucking doubt. "Yeah, let's. I still owe him for the murder garden."

"Me?" Lance demanded. "Who got fucking stabbed?"

"You did! That's why I had to fucking carry you, because you lost a fight with a plant!"

Daniel's eyes widened. "The fuck…?" But nobody was listening to him. He was never going to find out about this garden of murder thing.

"Stabby evil plants," Lance clarified, removing his jacket and strutting onto the mat. Jace watched him, completely unimpressed.

"Have any popcorn?" Daniel muttered to Hunk as the huge man came over to stand next to him. This was fun and all, but he was still hungry.

"Was kinda countin' on you guys to bring some. Lance forgot?"

"I was in a hurry," Lance protested from the mat. "And snacks are your purview."

Jace smirked. "Oooh, big words."

"Yeah, I read things other than medical jargon."

"Go self-administer an orgasm."

"Like I would ever need to, you confusing us again?"

"Not on my worst day."

Daniel looked between the two of them, feeling a distinct sense of deja vu washing over him. Hunk leaned over and whispered, "We caught 'em on a good day."

"This is good?"

"'Fraid so." He raised his voice. "You two gonna punch each other sometime today?"

"He can try."

"Waiting on you, caralho…"

Lance snorted. "You want a fancy invitation?"

"Maybe, aren't they your—" Jace broke off mid-sentence and lunged. Lance dodged just in time; the medic stopped dead and spun around the moment he realized he'd been sidestepped, using the momentum to throw a punch into his chest. This one connected solidly.

"Ow!" Lance snarled, punching back.

Jace just managed to block the punch, though he didn't catch it cleanly; it stung his forearm. "Ow?" he taunted to stop himself from grimacing. "That's what you've got?" Ducking a follow-up strike, he grabbed the pilot's arm and dragged him to the mat.

"All it merits." Lance got in a good kick to his shins as they dropped, which resulted in him being called what he assumed to be several colorful things in Portuguese. He tried another kick, though pulling off any sort of accuracy from the floor was a bit harder. He felt his foot whiff past Jace's leg, then the medic grabbed his other arm and wrenched it in a way arms were not supposed to be wrenched.

Well, fuck. Breaking basic holds he was pretty good at, breaking locks he was somewhat less good at. He tried one of his go-to moves and immediately regretted it—not only did his arm in general protest the motion, his shoulders were not happy with it at all. This was the opposite of what he needed to be doing… he tapped the mat. "Fuck, I need that arm, asshole."

"For what?" Jace let go and jumped off him. "Thought you could fly with one hand behind your back."

"Never said it was for flying."

Done already? Hunk blinked and glanced down at Daniel again. "That was kinda anticlimactic."

"Yeah…" The gunner frowned. "Would've been better with popcorn."

"The Lieutenant has no technique," someone commented from his other side, and Daniel damn near jumped out of his skin. He wasn't the only one.

"Motherfucker!"

"Wh—I have fucking great technique!"

"The fuck? How many people did you invite?"

"Uh, not him?"

Pidge looked around at them, mildly bemused. He'd really just been coming to do some exercises. "The door was open. I didn't see any technique, Lieutenant."

Daniel snorted. "There was technique. Losing that bad totally takes skill." A little snark was always good to bring down the heart rate.

"I wasn't talking about…" Lance trailed off, shaking his head. It probably wasn't worth the protest.

"Nobody cares about your bedroom techniques," Jace snorted, leaning over and rubbing his sore shin. "Fuck."

He actually hadn't been talking about those techniques either, though he certainly did have them. "Yeah sure, let's see any of you try flying through an asteroid field."

Daniel's eyes lit up. "I would love to."

"Not as easy as it sounds, kid."

"All the more reason for me to practice!"

Maybe they could get a simulator set up, at that. Lance was thinking about it while Jace rolled his eyes. "I'd say I want to see it, but I don't want to be on the ship when it happens. Anyway, who was playing winner?"

Pidge stepped forward when nobody else did. Nobody had told him to leave yet; may as well make the most of it. "I'll fight you, Doctor."

That had certainly not been who Jace wanted to accept the challenge, but he couldn't exactly back out now. And who knew, it could be fun. Couldn't be worse than Hunk, probably… with a shrug he stepped back to the center of the mat. "Sure, I'm in."

Any thoughts of simulators fled Lance's mind immediately. Wait… He looked between the medic and the ninja. Oh hell yes. "I am so happy I'm here."

"Good, that's one of us." Jace fell into a wary defensive stance. "Let's see what you've got, ninja."

He'd barely even gotten the words out when Pidge darted at him, a dark blur in the gym's harsh light. He went into a rising punch, so Jace hit the deck—that was where he wanted to be anyway—reaching back he grabbed at where his opponent's leg should have been, only to swipe through empty air. Porra. Rolling to avoid any incoming follow-up strike, he got his feet beneath him just in time to see the ninja crouch and…

…Jump up and grab a ceiling girder?

"Um…"

"Wow…"

"The fuck?"

Jace stood up, looking at the ceiling. Pidge had completely vanished into the duct work. "That's… definitely cheating," he muttered, in the absence of… well, really any other ideas. He looked over at the others and shrugged. Only Hunk shrugged back. Daniel was staring blankly at the ceiling, and Lance was filming with his datapad, because why wouldn't he be.

A faint clatter came from above, and he spun to face the noise, bracing. He was ready to pounce at the first sign of a shadow. He was not at all ready for Pidge to drop onto his back and wrap an arm in front of his throat.

"Whoa…" Lance applauded as best he could, snickering.

"Fuck no you don't." Jace launched into a forward roll, which did less than he would have hoped to dislodge the ninja, though it did break the headlock. Apparently that was enough for the ninja to voluntarily disembark. He vaulted off in the middle of the roll with a parting kick to the ribs, landing in front of his opponent and watching warily.

Jace gave him a quite irritated look, even by his standards. "Nobody told me we weren't gonna keep this fight in the gym."

"The ceiling is part of the gym per the ship schematics, Doctor," he answered matter-of-factly.

Lance snorted. "I mean technically…"

"He's not wrong."

The thought of asking whose side they were on briefly came and went; wasn't like he actually needed to know the answer. "Okay, sure." He darted in at Pidge, who sidestepped, and jumped over the countering kick. They could play it this way. For a minute they danced around the mat, feinting and dodging, neither actually landing anything. Then finally Jace cut in under Pidge's guard and grabbed his leg, taking him to the floor.

Which… was less of a victory than it could've been. Great, you've got him, now what are you gonna do with him? He tried a leg lock. Seemed like the best option.

Pidge twisted around in a way no human's vertebrae could twist and dropped an elbow between his shoulder blades. Daggers of light shot through the back of his skull, and his whole body momentarily went numb.

"Fuck this!" Jace tapped out as soon as he could move his arm again. He had not been ready for that at all.

Immediately the ninja withdrew. "That wasn't that bad, for a human." It was clear to him the doctor didn't have much experience with smaller and faster opponents. Nothing to be ashamed of. Which was not stopping Daniel and Lance from cracking up; he scowled at them slightly, though neither seemed to notice.

The medic was also scowling at them, much more than slightly. Specifically he was scowling at Daniel. "Laugh it up, hell's angel, it's your turn now."

"That ain't what a Hell's Angel is at all," Hunk muttered under his breath.

Daniel stopped laughing, taking a step backwards. He wasn't exactly hiding behind Lance, but he wasn't exactly not hiding behind Lance either. "Uh, I'm good."

"Are you?" Pidge asked, more cheerful than anyone present had ever heard him. "Let's go then."

"Absolutely fucking not!"

"Ah c'mon." Hunk slapped his shoulder encouragingly. "Can't be that bad."

Oh yes it could. But nobody seemed inclined to bail him out… he glared at everyone and stepped onto the mat. This is gonna be so much worse than getting headbutted. "Whatever, just kick my ass already."

"That's a very inefficient combat maneuver." Pidge crouched and sprang at him without another word. But he didn't get too far. Other than bracing himself, Daniel was doing nothing at all to either avoid or counter the incoming strike. He stopped, frowning. "…You said you were good, and you're not taking this seriously."

"Ninja, that's his brand," Lance snickered.

Daniel was staring at him, more than a little surprised to not be on his ass. "I meant 'I'm good' as in I don't want to do this," he clarified, suppressing several embellishments that the ninja probably wouldn't understand.

Sighing, Pidge stepped back. "Jalekya…" English is stupid. For a moment there he'd actually been enjoying himself.

Hunk had noticed that, too. He looked between the two kids and considered the sacrifices he was willing to make for the team, then shrugged. Why not? "How 'bout this? I'll take you both on."

Both of them turned to him, startled. "What, me and the ninja against Mountain Man?" Daniel shrugged too. It definitely sounded better than him versus the ninja. Or really him alone against anyone. He seriously did not like sparring.

"Seems almost like a fair fight," Lance commented. Jace looked less convinced.

Pidge was still annoyed about good not meaning good; he shot Daniel a scornful look. "I'm sure you'll be helpful. I can handle this." He sprinted at Hunk as he stepped onto the mat, jumped up, and planted a solid jumpkick squarely on the huge man's chest… which earned him a mildly amused look and absolutely nothing else. He hit the floor, rolling clear before stopping to catch his breath, blinking in confusion. "Or not?"

Jace snickered.

"Got any better ideas?" Daniel asked spitefully.

As it happened, he did. "Distract him." Before the gunner could respond, he sprang up and clambered back into the ceiling ducts.

Lance doubled over laughing, and Daniel shot him a very betrayed look.

Through the entire sequence, Hunk had hardly even moved. Now he looked at Daniel and shrugged. "I'm just standin' here, yeah? Wanna talk the weather?"

"We're in space," the kid pointed out. "Not much weather."

"Yeah, true that."

Was this distracting him? Pidge hadn't exactly specified a method, and he seemed distracted enough. May as well go with it. "So, I don't really have any intention of trying to hit you. I feel like that would be counterproductive to not hurting myself, and I mean, Doc is standing right there."

"You're probably okay if you hit me." Grin. "Just gotta be worried if ya let me hit you back."

"See, I just don't feel like risking that. Plus I'm like, really hungry…"

Pidge was crouched in the crawlspace just overhead, listening and rolling his eyes. Though it did seem like the unconventional tactic was working… he wasn't sure how much credit Daniel really deserved for that, but whatever. He was certainly not going to attempt to get Hunk in a headlock—the other engineer's neck was about as big around as his waist—so instead he dropped and drove an elbow into the back of one of his knees.

"…Go ninja!" Daniel cheered.

Even though he'd known he was going to have a ninja dropping in, Hunk had not anticipated that. He stumbled back a few steps with a yelp. "Dude! I felt that one!"

"Temora sa kye…" He hadn't even fallen over! Pidge dodged easily as the big man turned and threw a punch, leaping over him and landing next to Daniel. Silently he pointed to Hunk's legs, beckoning his crewmate to join him before darting forward. We'll try this again then.

The instruction gave Daniel about a second, maybe two, to consider who he was more scared of: Hunk or the ninja. The ninja won out easily. And he probably knew what he was doing… sighing, he lunged alongside him, landing a decent punch to Hunk's right calf as Pidge hit his left knee again.

That did it. Hunk toppled backwards with another yelp. At the last possible second, Pidge yanked Daniel out of the way before the huge man could land on top of him. Honestly, what happened to his sense of self-preservation? It had seemed pretty well-tuned a minute ago.

Jace and Lance exchanged raised eyebrows. "I'm seeing the appeal of the popcorn."

"Definitely need to stock a machine in here."

The mat was comfy; okay maybe that was overstating the case, but Hunk wasn't really in any hurry to get up. He laid his head back instead, looking up at the kids standing over him, then gave a thumbs-up and tapped out. "Not bad, little bros."

Daniel smiled. "This is, by far, the best experience I've ever had sparring."

"Want to go now?" Pidge offered.

The smile fell off his face immediately. "What about this experience makes you think I'd want to fight you?!"

"…You have a lot of ways of saying no that don't include the word no."

"Yeah, I do." He retreated to not quite hide behind Lance again; the pilot was checking his datapad. He'd gotten this whole fiasco on video. Daniel looked at the screen and grinned. "Can I have a copy of Doc getting his ass kicked?"

"Oh don't you worry, everyone's getting that."

They weren't keeping their voices down at all, and Jace snorted. "Glad I can keep you two amused. Porra."

"Okay, knock that off." Hunk hopped up before they could start bickering. "That's all the sparring this gang can do without popcorn, yeah? Galley break!"

"Fuckin' finally!" Daniel took off instantly, Lance on his heels. Hunk trailed a bit behind them, motioning for the other two to follow.

Jace's eyes narrowed slightly; he turned to Pidge, who was back to his usual expressionless self. "…Popcorn is not a sufficient after-workout snack." Sigh. "Better go save them from themselves. You coming?"

Having just managed an entire social interaction—admittedly, one that had mostly been sanctioned combat—without pulling a knife on a single human, Pidge really felt like he shouldn't push his luck any further. He wasn't hungry yet, anyway. "No." Pause. Manners. "No thanks."

With a shrug, the medic headed out. He may technically have been off duty, but really, these people were a full time job.

Explorer Teams…

*****

Vince caught sight of Daniel and Lance turning into the gym, the word sparring catching his attention. "Nope, nope, nope," he muttered under his breath and hurried past the door as fast as he could. He wasn't getting caught up in that situation. What with falling and knives in his face, he was quite through already with physical attacks.

A few more steps away from the gym and he started to hear strange sounds, at first he thought it was beeping but then a whistle. Quickly, he determined it wasn't the ship, which was a relief… but curiosity had him following it until he reached the first rec room door and pushed through. He found Cam at a table surrounded by books and datapads, making some odd chirpy-whistle noises.

Well that's… something… "What are you doing?"

Cam was deep inside his own head, intensely focused on learning the Terinian language perfectly. He jolted at the sound of English and hit mute on the recordings he was listening to. "Dude! I'm… working. What are you doing? I thought everyone else would be in the gym watching Hunk and Jace?"

Everyone else? He was even more happy to have bypassed them. "Which will probably lead to a lot more sparring, which is why I'm anywhere but the gym. What exactly are you doing?"

"I told you, work." Cam didn't want to be interrupted; as he spoke he glanced back at the book and the datapad, comparing the information. "I'm learning and translating Terinian."

"Oh," Vince was intrigued, he remembered how pretty he'd thought their language sounded. "That could be useful. Is it fun?"

Cam shrugged. "A bit. I find it interesting, but the translating is time consuming. It's an interesting tale so far."

Curiosity winning him over, Vince sat down. "Tell me about it? Is it like music?"

"Kinda. Reminds me of listening to the birds out on that big square at the Academy... not many birds on the moon, you know?"

"Yeah, I bet not. At the open market on Terina could feel the vibrations from all the chirping." Vince pressed on. "You said something about a tale?"

"Yeah. Went with Commander Kogane to the Kurcuri, the military academy there, trying to see if we could find some more clues on where Altea is. With that temple the others found and what the Skyguard told us at the Kurcuri, I think we're on the right track."

"Really?" Excited, Vince leaned in to look at the books, then remembered it was in a foreign tongue and rolled his eyes at himself. "What's it saying?"

Cam indicated the datapad. "See these words? It says black, red, yellow, blue, and… I'm not totally sure about this one, I think it says green, but I haven't found it in the other materials just yet."

Vince was immediately taken back to the briefing and the bright smudges of colors they'd been shown. "Huh, seems likely it is something we could use."

"Like I said, it's a process. Some words they use are not in the same dialect… I think the Skyguard said it's their ancient tongue. So I'm having a bit of trouble finding the actual spelling that is used here, but if I'm understanding their linguistic construction it almost definitely says green, and it would make sense with that image the colonel showed us…" Cam's eyes were sparkling, he couldn't mask his excitement about the language.

"It all fits, really." Vince nodded. "What do they say the colors belonged to?

Now his enthusiasm faded just slightly, face falling in disappointment. "No idea. Just some big beasts that made a lot of noise."

"Beasts?" Vince wasn't sure he liked that word. "Guess they wouldn't call anything birdlike that? Would they?"

"Beats the hell out of me." Cam shrugged, eyes going back to the books.

Vince shook his head, he was curious but also a bit anxious. He liked facts. "I'm not really one for mysteries, but… gotta get used to it I guess? Maybe you'll find something less vague as you go?"

Cam responded with something in Russian and Vince winced a bit—what was it with people speaking to him other languages? It sounded more polite than Baltan, though. "I'm going to assume that was something nice?"

"From your lips to God's ears… Granny's favorite saying," Cam smirked, shifting into a fond smile. "Right before she opened a new bottle of vodka."

"Huh… growing up Russian sounds way more fun than my house."

"Oh, no." Cam laughed. "Only language scarier being yelled at you is German."

"Don't know, you've never seen my Mom yelling while she's cooking. Her knife is going every which way."

"Oh, that's not safe."

"I know, trust me." Vince nodded. "I stay well away from the kitchen when she cooks." At least if he'd had any say in the matter.

"Probably safer."

"I like keeping safe, as a rule."

"Same here."

Vince started to laugh as the absurdity hit him; here they were, both in deep space looking for a legendary weapon before space pirates could get at it. "We're in the wrong place, though."

Cam grinned at the laughter, though he didn't really hear him. His mind was back on the language in front of him, feeling impatient to get to know it better. He glanced up at Vince again. "Unless you want to get shanghaied into helping me, you might want to go find a better hiding place from the sparring."

Was that really supposed to chase him off? "Oh, I'll help!"

Arching an eyebrow, Cam considered that and nodded. He hadn't expected it, but another set of eyes could definitely help. "Okay, come join the fun. Bring your datapad. Maybe two."

Vince grabbed his datapad—he'd have gladly grabbed two if he had them. "Okay, so what do you need?"

Smirking, Cam shoved a book at him and sent a few files over from his datapad. "Pick a spot and go nuts, man."

Oh. OH. Vince gulped as the information downloaded, the feathery Terinian sigils staring back at him. What had he just gotten himself into?

*****

The Cathedral of Stars had originally been built upon the highest peak on Kaliega. A few hundred years later, and it was not only built on the mountain but into and around it: a vast complex of telescopes, receptor dishes, astroreflectivity arrays, and who even knew what else. It was clearly a working observatory. It was also clearly a work of art. Glittering skydomes arched over the walkways and transport paths, depicting the current state of the night sky even in the brightest daylight. The paths were also lined with intricate mosaics and exquisite murals, depicting celestial scenes as well as the construction of the Cathedral and what were probably famous researchers. It was all very impressive…

Or it had been for the first ten minutes. Flynn was long since over it. He was already mildly resentful of having to come along in the first place, and the transport path he was scowling at was not improving his mood. He didn't trust this lurching thing at all. "I would just like to know who in every. Conceivable. Hell. decided that a five mile long escalator was something that needed to exist."

Keith raised an eyebrow. "Would you rather climb the mountain or ride the escalator?"

"Those are not the only two options!"

"Maybe, but this does give you a nice view if you'd look around."

"The stars all started looking the same about a mile ago." Flynn sighed and looked up at the skydome disapprovingly.

Shaking his head, Keith decided it really wasn't worth arguing the point. Sven had been ignoring them both to begin with. He was looking around in awe, trying to see everything at once, occasionally rushing from one side of the path to the other and trying not to seem too giddy. Not that he was fooling anyone by now, if he ever had been. "It's gorgeous." It was at least the thirtieth time he'd said that.

Every so often, they would pass someone going down the mountain on one of the nearby transport paths. Most of them were Lygoth, which had been quite an experience at first. The Lygoth were monstrous—there was no other word for it. Well over eight feet tall, with sharp horns and sickle claws that sprouted from a shell of thick organic armor, they looked rather like someone had crossbred some sort of demon with a stegosaurus and thrown some fur on the result to try to take the edge off.

All of these fearsome features, of course, were the defense mechanisms of a peaceful herbivorous race… but they were still pretty creepy.

Finally, the long transport run ended, depositing them on a large terrace. An archway engraved with several constellations stood ahead. No actual doors, as best they could see. Keith looked around at the constellations as they passed through the entrance. "Well, at least they don't hide what they're famous for…"

"Absolutely breathtaking," Sven murmured.

"I'd hope a place called the Cathedral of Stars has a lot of stars." Flynn sidestepped their navigator as he turned to look at something else. "I'm just tired of them."

"How can you be tired of stars?" the navigator in question demanded, stopping dead and nearly getting run over anyway.

"They all look the same!"

That won him a look more disapproving than anything Jace had ever done. "I'm not even going to bother telling you how wrong you are, but even if they did look the same, their placement and designs are all different. And all breathtaking!"

Flynn shrugged. He didn't begrudge the Viking his excitement, he just hadn't wanted to come along for it. "You appreciate that, I appreciate fusion recombination cycles. It evens out."

"Okay, enough," Keith snapped as they entered the main lobby. "Before I have to call you both pretty like Doc and McClain."

They exchanged glances, suddenly unified. "Are you saying we're not?"

"I'm much prettier than Jace."

Not about to dignify that with a response, Keith turned his focus to the Cathedral's interior. There were more of the transport paths, looping about the place like a work of abstract art. Terraces up and down the central core seemed to lead to different sections. But everything was well marked, with signs in Common and half a dozen other languages, and it didn't take too long to find one that read INFORMATION in neat gold lettering. "Well, if someone here is going to be able to answer some questions, that one looks like a promising place to start."

They hopped the correct escalator, and were whisked away to a terrace a few stories up. A jet black Lygoth with a bone-white carapace was standing at a desk, and Keith paused for a moment to reconsider as they stepped off the transport. That one was terrifying.

"We sure we didn't want to go harass an ancient race first?" Flynn whispered, evidently thinking the same thing. Sven, on the other hand, didn't say anything. He'd noticed a sign labeled ARCHIVES as they stepped off the escalator. Archives sounded promising… for their mission. Yes. Absolutely for their mission.

Gracing his second with a glare, Keith took that reminder of their options and stepped forward. The Lygoth's bright crimson eyes fixed on him immediately. "Um, hello. We're looking for some information?" Yes, that's why we're at the information desk. Well done.

"Then you have come to the right place," she answered easily, crossing her scythe-like claws. Her voice was reedy and light, not at all what he'd expected. "I am Shu're of the Observers, at your service. What do you seek?"

Okay, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. "We're looking for information on a planet called Altea. Do you know anything about it?"

He'd expected her to go to the console on the desk. Or maybe to give an immediate yes or no, depending how well she knew the material. What he hadn't expected was a long, slow blink, and then her armor plates rippling in a chiming pattern. "Altea! Earthling, where did you hear of such a thing?"

Keith glanced over at Flynn, who was wincing. That sounded markedly less promising. "Um. Scholarly texts, mostly…"

"Scholarly…" Shu're shook her head. "I fear someone has played a cruel joke upon you, Earthlings. Altea is a fairy tale. It is much like your… ah, what is the name…" She tapped her claws on the desk in concentration. "Carmelhot?"

Flynn stared blankly; Keith blinked. "Camelot? As in the tales of King Arthur?"

"Yes, Camelot, I think. An ancient paradise of legend, not a true place."

Also not promising, but then, they'd been going mostly off of myths and legends so far. "Well, what do these fairy tales say about it?"

"I am not a scholar of myth." She seemed slightly agitated by the question, though it was hard to tell for sure. "The Observers concern ourselves with facts and physics, the movements of the skies and the pure light of the stars."

Wonderful. Keith glanced to his second for help, but didn't get any; Flynn was aiming a very focused frown at the floor. Just wonderful…

"You seem doubtful," the Lygoth observed.

Another try couldn't hurt, he supposed, looking back at her. "The name was given to us by people who claimed it is a real place. They had some… compelling evidence."

"Without a doubt." Now she seemed sympathetic, though that was also hard to tell. "Scholarship is ever-changing, ever-advancing. Many things which look convincing turn out not to be so." She gestured broadly. "Among Earthlings, there were once those who believed the stars revolved around your planet. Among our people, we thought them to be holes in the sky where the heavens could bleed through. These things were not without evidence."

Keith sighed. Leaving here with nothing at all didn't sit right. If she'd known the name so quickly there had to be something. "Physical evidence," he said hesitantly. "A relic from people who were from Altea, or at least claimed to be."

Shu're clicked her claws. She was definitely agitated now. "I am sorry, Earthlings. I cannot in good conscience encourage you on an unwise path."

Finally Flynn raised his head, murmuring under his breath. "Kogane, we've got to tell her the truth."

"What…?" That was absolutely out of the question.

Before he could say so, Flynn looked up at Shu're and pulled his identification tags out. "We're here on the Alliance's behalf. There's supposedly an ancient weapon of some sort hidden away on Altea…"

"Kleid, that's—" Keith's interruption was interrupted by a sharp elbow to the stomach.

"…we're hunting a fugitive from Earth, he's obsessed with this weapon, and he's extremely dangerous as it is. Even if the planet isn't real, we need any leads we can get as to where he might search."

"Oh…!" Shu're's armor rippled again, much less musically this time. "I see now. Yes… many deluded seekers have caused great damage searching for the riches of Altea."

Rubbing his abdomen with a grimace, Keith suppressed a lot of things he wanted to say to his second just now; his idea seemed to be working. "Yes, anything at all you can tell us would be beneficial."

"Has anyone else come here asking questions about it?"

"No. But your seeker may well know there would be nothing for him here. Your search will be among ruins and repositories of myth, not the stars." Shu're took a strip of what seemed to be gray fabric from a stack on the desk and ran her fingers over it. Several glowing glyphs appeared. "I can still tell you little, but I can offer a better starting point. The Great Library of the Ages on Alcieux… they may have knowledge that can aid you. Take this to them, I have acquaintances there who will gladly speak to you."

Keith accepted the strip of fabric, suppressing a sigh of relief. "Thank you. You've been a great help." He paused a moment. "If you could… keep our visit quiet? We don't want him to realize we're on his tail, if at all possible."

"Of course." She crossed her claws. "May the stars guide your path, Earthlings."

Nodding, he grabbed Flynn's arm, dragging him back to the escalator and out even after it became clear he wasn't actually fighting it. "Good grief, Kleid."

The engineer finally pulled his arm free. "I was about to say something similar. Honestly, Kogane…"

"I don't even know where to begin, but I feel like yelling at you for it."

"Yelling at me? You were doing so well!" Flynn shook his head. "You really must learn to lie, Commander Crystal Spur."

"You keep calling me that, I'm gonna pin that damn medal to your forehead," Keith snapped. Then he sighed as his second raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, she just… kind of freaked me out, if I'm being honest. And really, Altea, a myth? After everything we've seen and found? It threw me."

"She was nice." Shrug. "Absolutely terrifying, but nice. But yes… that temple was sure as hell no myth."

"Not at all." Keith frowned. "Wait, what do you mean I need to learn to lie? I've seen you play poker, since when can you bluff?"

"Well you gave me plenty of time to think about it." He shrugged again. "Wasn't that much of a lie, anyway. Fugitive from Earth, race of alien space pirates, not that far off…"

Disagreeing seemed unlikely to be productive. "Right. Okay, let's get back to the ship, get a route mapped out to this Alcieux… do we have enough fuel left to get there?"

"No idea where it is. Holgersson, you know offhand?"

No answer. Flynn hesitated. Now that he thought about it, they hadn't heard from their navigator in quite awhile, for someone so excited to be here… he stopped, looking around. No sign of him anywhere.

Keith had stopped too. "Where the hell is he? I expect this sort of thing from Lance and the kids, not him!"

"Was he even with us when we got to the desk?"

"I thought he was…" He'd been a little preoccupied. "Wasn't he?"

Sighing and shaking his head, Flynn wordlessly turned and started back for the Cathedral. Probably should've seen this one coming.

"We've lost our navigator," Keith muttered as he followed. "What kind of commanding officers are we?"

Oh no, they weren't taking the blame for this. "He's the navigator, it's his job not to get lost! Not our fault."

The boss chuckled. "And we're hunting a planet that seems to be lost…"

"At least we have a theme?"

"I swear if there's a yellow brick road anywhere, I'm going to hit someone." Flynn stopped walking again, staring at him blankly. "…Ask Hunk and Lance, I'm sure they'll educate you."

"Oh, one of those."

"Yeah." Keith sighed again as they walked back into the Cathedral. "Let's go find our lost flying monkey."

"…Rude?" Flynn muttered almost to himself, then looked around at the signs. Despite their thoroughness, "I don't think any of these signs are going to point us to 'runaway navigator'."

"No, probably not." Retracing their steps seemed like the best bet, so they hopped the escalator back to the information desk. 

Shu're was still there. "Ah, you've returned. You are seeking your lost Earthling this time, I imagine?"

Oh. Keith blinked. "Um, yes."

Her armor rippled, and she indicated a sign off to the left. "He departed from you when you first approached me, in the direction of the archives."

Of course he had. Why wouldn't he have? "Thank you, again." They stepped onto the transport path she'd indicated, passing through several archways before reaching an enormous room full of everything from ancient scrolls to cutting-edge projected holoscreens.

Sven was sitting at a large table, surrounded by charts and open books. A few small screens hovered at about eye level. He was completely absorbed in the information, the patterns, referencing and cross-referencing…

Walking up behind him, Keith leaned close over his shoulder. Still no reaction. "Anything interesting?"

That got a reaction—a startled jump and a Viking's shoulder smacking his nose. Well, he supposed he'd been inviting that. Sven recovered quickly enough. "Yes, actually." His eyes were bright as he turned. "They've been mapping parts of hyperspace, I've never seen such comprehensive surveys of spatial rifts or warp corridors, it's absolutely fascinating…"

Flynn snickered. "Should we just have you map us a route for Alcieux now, and come back and get you when we're done there?"

Sven dropped the book he was holding, mildly horrified. "And miss out on the Great Library? Absolutely not!" He'd downloaded every scrap of information he could to his datapad anyway, and taken pictures of what he couldn't. This would keep him busy for quite awhile.

"Oh look, he knows what it is. Immediately. I'm shocked." Flynn had never been less shocked in his life.

"Knock it off," Keith ordered, rolling his eyes. They could make fun of each other just fine on the long trip back down the mountain. "Let's get out of here. Holgersson, you can tell Kleid if we're going to need more fuel to get to Alcieux from here."

"We shouldn't need it, it's a short trip." Sven frowned slightly. "But Alcieux isn't part of the Alliance, so it might not hurt to refuel here anyway."

"That's an excellent reason," Flynn agreed. Independent spaceports were fine, but everything was so much less complicated on Alliance planets.

"Okay." Keith looked at the charts strewn over the table and shook his head slightly. "Pack it up and let's go."

*****

Larmina couldn't deal with the tunnels any longer. It wasn't just the stifling atmosphere, the smothering nervousness of the survivors, though that wasn't helping anything. It was the voices.

Voices she could have dealt with, if they'd been voices coming from anyone she could see.

The flickers that kept haunting her vision in the caves hadn't stopped. They were only getting worse, in fact… shimmering wisps of light from the corner of her eye, indistinct murmurs that seemed to become more agitated by the day. Not unlike her own temperament. Sometimes she wondered if she was going crazy down here.

Sometimes she could swear she saw Auntie following her gaze, startling at the whispers, reacting to the same flickers. Whether that made her feel more or less crazy, she wasn't sure.

Nobody else seemed to hear anything. She hadn't actually asked. No sense making anyone else think she was losing it. If she couldn't handle the pressure, they might decide she shouldn't be handling deadly pointy things, and if she couldn't go out hunting she really would go mad. It was her only escape from this place. But now it was the middle of the night, no time for a hunting party. No time for an Arusian to set foot outside these shelters, when they didn't dare carry light. And yet, here she was, creeping from one of the tunnels into the foothills.

Where are you even going?

She didn't really have an answer to that, but anything had to be better than here. As she emerged into the moonlight and looked around, she was struck by the silence. Distant scout ship engines, a common background hum in the daylight, were absent in the darkness. The usual sounds of the meadow, chirping birds and rustling grass, were replaced with a stillness nearly as stifling as the tunnels.

Silence was what she'd come out here for, wasn't it? Now that she had it, it didn't seem so attractive. The world seemed so bleak and hopeless like this.

Wasn't it, though?

Golden Gods, you can deliver your people from this mess any time now…

She looked up at the sky, exhaling slowly. The Golden Gods weren't listening. Or were they? She hadn't thought they were listening about the ball either, until suddenly the Drules had come blazing in. Maybe they were just waiting, for gods only knew what reason. Literally.

You don't really think the Drules attacked because of that, do you? As if you have that kind of power. You're not even important enough to—

"Larmina."

She jumped, broken out of her recriminations by a familiar voice. Too familiar, almost. So much so that she didn't stop to think as she whirled on it. "Don't do—"

…No.

No, it can't…

A wavering shape was standing before her, gleaming brighter than the moonlight. A woman in tattered royal robes, gazing at her sadly. She fought to swallow the lump rising in her throat, and nearly choked on it. Words wouldn't come. Belief wouldn't come. She couldn't grasp what was standing before her, even when it confirmed all of her worst fears.

Queen Orla bowed her head slightly. "Larmina, I'm so sorry."

"H… how?" she finally managed to stammer out, her voice not much more than a squeak.

"There was a fire in the manor shelter. The smoke… everyone… it was very quick."

That had not been what Larmina was asking at all, and she took a step back. "Y-you… you're… you can't be… how are you…?" As she struggled to spit out the words she couldn't accept, another voice came back to her.

You know if your mother had passed, she would try to reach you…

It all made sense, one terrible moment too late.

The ghost reached out and touched her shoulder. It was a strange sensation—the barest sense of being touched, not enough to be truly comforting, too much for her to maintain her denial. "The royal blood of Arus has always been both a gift and a curse. You already knew this. I didn't feel it was right to burden you with ghosts so young. But you are a true Daughter of Arus…"

Larmina shook her head, stepping back and squeezing her eyes shut. "No. No I'm not. I don't want it, I don't want this!" She hadn't even wanted it when it was frilly dresses and boring etiquette lessons. She sure as all five hells didn't want to be here faced with her dead mother, unable to look away…

Orla smiled sadly. "What we want is so often denied us. There is so much you hadn't yet learned. So much I meant to teach you, when you were ready."

"I should have been there!" Tears were stinging her eyes, fighting to fall. "I should've been with you, I could've…"

"You would have died with us."

Would that have been so bad? Larmina couldn't seem to force those words out either, but from her mother's stricken look she had a feeling they'd gotten across regardless. "What am I supposed to do now?" she finally whispered.

"What you've always done." The ghost was flickering, starting to fade into the darkness. "Survive. Fight. You are the last of the line of Altair…"

Her voice was fading. She was still speaking, but Larmina couldn't hear the words, only the faint whispers that had been plaguing the caves. Flickers on the edge of her vision, as though other ghosts were trying to take up the words. But she couldn't hear them either, couldn't see anything but the maddening wisps.

In a faint shimmer of silver, Queen Orla was gone.

"Mother…!"

Larmina stood in the tunnel entrance for a long time, still and silent as death herself. Later, she wouldn't remember the new voice calling her name. She wouldn't remember the hands on her shoulders, the worried looks, her stumbling footsteps as Hanso and Allendar shepherded her back into the cave proper. She wouldn't remember them finding a blanket for her, or nibbling some bread without tasting it. All she would remember was the echo in the back of her mind. 

Survive. Fight.

For once, it didn't sound so easy.