This story is obviously fiction. This story will also involve sexual and intimate relationships between two (or more) males, and if this offends you or it is illegal for you to be reading, then please leave. If you are under the age of consent for your community, please leave. And if it does offend you, I honestly don't know why you're even here in the first place. To the story... away!
STARLIGHT 7
"In the eyes of outsiders, the background behind the ancient Solan practice of Requiem may seem illogical, or even counterproductive. After all, the dead have no ears, they have no mind to appreciate melody, nor voice to even emulate it. So why do we continue to write songs, songs that will never be heard, for the dead? They might as well be tuneless, yes? But music does not live in the ears, or mind, or voice. Music lives in memory -and that has been proven scientifically- so to write Requiem for the dead is to forever embed something into their greater memory."
~Maestra Michaela Noti;
Deathnotes
A voice in the residential wing. "Zack?" It's a voice that is soft, with an unmistakable metallic ring to it. "Zack."
"Yes, Aurora?"
"The scan of the Astra 7 is complete."
Zack got up from his chair, gazed out the small window, round like a dime in the wall. He saw stars, he saw the Blizzard floating like a brown metal kite. "How many?"
"Seven."
"Names, please."
"Jolee Adagi, Technician Grade I, DR Mechana. David Andant, TSA Private Second Class." The names grew fainter and fainter, the outlines of the stars seeming more blurry and bright.
"Jane Cante, Technician Grade I, Cantata Station. Christoph Forten, Technician Grade I, DR Mechana." At this point he himself had gone faint, his hands began to tremble. At this rate he would never be able to pick up the pen, much less hum to himself. "Hugo Legata, TSA Corporal. Jen Trillia, Technician Grade II, Cantata Station. Wilson Via, TSA Private Second Class."
Zack remembered how annoying Jo was when he talked, he remembered Christoph taking him out to that junky bar back on Aria to celebrate their first computer interface in the Esmeralda 2, back when being tired was being fun, when research and building had some sort of meaning.
"Aurora?" Zack nearly whispered, his voice cracking.
"What is it, Zack?"
"Please get Ahn 1,000,000,001 on the line."
"Calling."
A ringing noise before the intercom crackled to life. "Hi, Zack."
"Did you find them all?"
Pause. "Yes. Pahn and I brought them to the medical bay. Dr. Bolero is confirming and cataloguing their identities. They should be ready for nanitization soon."
"Good to hear."
Yet another pause,though this time Zack could tell that Ahn was thinking of what to say on the other end. "Are you alright?"
Zack bit his lip as he slowly paced in circles, talking to the ceiling. "Yeah. I mean, are you?"
"Reyn don't worry themselves with death. I will be fine."
"How's the rest of the team doing?"
"Pahn and I are making do. Flower is upset. Shora is still in coma, but Dr. Bolero says she is recovering. And as for Private Tremel, he is taking stock of our armory." When Zack gave no response, Ahn continued. "You haven't been out of your room in a while, Zack."
"What do you mean, I just saw you-"
"-at meal, yes, but that's all you bother to attend. The Blizzard's crew haven't even seen you since our jump two days ago."
Zack felt his patience thinning. "Look, I've been busy, alright?!"
"...You still haven't slept, have you?"
"I'll see you, Ahn. End communications."
The ending tone beeped. Zack rubbed his face and went to the bathroom; slumped over he stared at himself in the mirror, the deep bags under his eyes, his face pale and harried. His hair was an oily mess. Flicking the lights off behind him and heading back to his desk, he picked up a pen and continued to stare at the blank musical sheets in front of him.
"So, I don't get it," Dea-Lin said, standing behind Pete. "The Senna system's under Flavin control. If they check your ship and find a buncha dead bodies in TSA uniforms we'll both be in trouble."
"I wish it were that simple," Ahn replied, attempting to be reasonable.
"Oh, but it is that simple. Grab your nanites and nanitize away."
Pahn cut in from behind Ahn. "You have no idea how much we'd like to. At this point it's a cultural more that's impeding progress."
"Wha's that mean?" Zahn asked. Both Ahn and Pahn gave Zahn a funny look through the viewscreen. It made him shrink.
"It's a Solan tradition, apparently, to write songs for the deceased," Ahn explained. "We're delaying disposing of the bodies until songs are written."
Darrin, sharing his seat with Snow at the communication station, crossed his arms. "You don't have any Solans on your ship, though."
"Yes. We do."
A long silence. Suddenly, Darrin clapped and nearly jumped out of his chair, highly disturbing Snow. "Oh! That one kid! Wait, we're waiting up for him?!"
"Is that a problem?"
"It will be if that kid gets us all arrested."
"If I may interject-" Flower of Dawn piped up sweetly from her chair at the Astra's weapons station. "-we don't have much crew and what little morale we have left has to be kept intact. In this case, tradition of any sort is extremely important. I'm sure you'd agree with me," Flower added, nodding to Snow, who seemed rather confused if anything.
"But you can't sacrifice both of our crews just for the -what- three Solans on your ship. Think about what you're doing; we'll meet again prearrival."
Snow reached behind Darrin and pushed a button, ending the transmission. Martine, arms crossed by the ladder, spoke up, addressing mostly Dea-Lin. "I think you should go easier on them."
"Sure, sure...Still, it's in our own self-interest to save our skins, you do realize that."
The lights low, Dr. Bolero putzed to and fro the medical bay with a pen in hand, marking sticky labels and placing them just about everywhere. A brief flash of brightness heralded the opening of the door, then disappeared as Zack entered and let it shut behind him.
Dr. Bolero turned to see his shadow. "Ahh... Zackary."
Zack went to Shora's bed; she was resting much more peacefully than before, her breathing steady and her eyes closed. "How is she?" he asked.
"Stabilizing. Another day in here and she'll be fine." Zack nodded, staying silent, while Dr. Bolero looked at him expectantly. "You're very welcome. Is there something you needed?" she inquired while turning back to her labels.
His throat dry, Zack hesitated a little before saying, "I wanted to ask you something."
Dr. Bolero stuck a label on a bottle of pills, then replaced it into the cabinet. "You know, it's remarkable how small they write the labels on these things... when most doctors are my age, I don't know how they expect us to get our meds right at all!" she chuckled to herself as she continued to write.
"Your eyes can't be that bad if you can tell medicines apart in the dark."
With a pregnant pause Dr. Bolero put her pen and labels down. "...And what did you want to ask me, Zackary?"
"Have you... have you ever done Requiem before?"
"Hm. I have," she said with a soft laugh. "Maybe not enough than I should have in my life, but I have."
"W-well, do you have any tips?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Tips! Hm! You do know that divine impulse is the meant to govern your notes, there's no trick to it. But, I still don't know why you're doing it in the first place... Death in the family?"
"No!"
Dr. Bolero grimaced. "No need to be rude. I suppose you're referring to the fellows that died in the attack, yes?"
"If I don't, then..." He choked down something before continuing again. "...I mean, unless you could-"
"No, no, it's not my prerogative. Personally I think that sort of thing is best relegated to the families, even if the Requiem isn't done with the bodies." She widened her eyes. "Oh! Speaking of, do you want to see the bodies?" While Dr. Bolero spoke she motioned to a vault-like door in the far corner of the bay. "They're in the morgue right now. Their identities have all been sorted out and they're ready for nanitization. Don't you think it would make sense, by the way, to write the song before we arrive in Senna?" Zack nodded. "Then I suppose you better get to writing."
Darrin, down the ladder, walking towards the direction of the mess hall, waited up for Snow after hearing his voice exhort him to stop. "What is it?" Darrin asked.
"Nothing in particular," Snow responded after catching up to him. Darrin liked the way Snow's hair shimmered, putting a cat-like smile on his face. "But I just thought I should, you know, beg you to be nicer to the Solan kid?"
"Why?" It was a good question, and Snow just shrugged. Darrin continued. "The twerp could get us all arrested with that stupid Requiem."
"Is that what they call it?" Snow asked with a raised eyebrow. Darrin shut his mouth and started walking again. Snow stayed by his side. "You obviously know more about this than me, so you should know how important it is to him."
"And you obviously know more about me and yourself to make assumptions, so you should know that sometimes you gotta give up what's important to you when it gets in the way." Snow's mouth hardened to a thin line as Darrin made his point. "I mean, come on, Snow! You of all people should know what I mean, you're a fucking atheist! You're like, the only Tintalan atheist in the entire galaxy! But you ditched the church because it was getting in your face."
"It wasn't that simple," Snow cut in. "Look... I'm an atheist, yeah, but I'm a faithful atheist. And because I'm faithful, I can afford to fudge up a little more in my displays of faith, because I'm comfortable in myself. Now envision that Solan kid. He's a computer engineer, Darrin. He's probably never had to even think of religion in his life. So when he's confronted with something this big, he feels obligated to do something."
"Doesn't mean he has to act on it."
"Well, what would you do? This is really important to a lot of Solans. Didn't your mom-"
"My mom never got Requiem!" Darrin growled. "...Arjidin can't sing worth crap, and neither could my dad. Mom's family already disowned her, so all that was left was me." Snow looked up at Darrin, his golden eyes now lost in a fiery thought. "And I didn't know a damn thing about songwriting, so... she was just a body without a song. And that was it."
Snow made a sympathetic face. "Oh, Darrin."
"Oh, Darrin, what? I don't care," Darrin replied, snapping back into reality, although Snow didn't believe for a second that he was really that blase. "Don't look at me like that. I'm still mad at the little know-it-all brat."
"Martine agrees with me. You gotta convince Dea-Lin to give the kid some more time." Darrin suddenly took a sharp turn into the hall, heading for his room instead of the mess hall. "Hey! So will you-"
"I'll think about it," was all Darrin said, and he shut the door in Snow's face.
Leaning against the door and hearing with his sharp ears Snow walk away, Darrin rolled his eys into the back of his head, sighed, and then rubbed his face. He jumped onto his bed and lay down on his back; the starchart on the ceiling sparkled and shook with the direction of the ship, and Darrin watched it for a while, wondering if maybe someday, he could learn to sing like his mother could.
The armory was surprisingly large for what was meant to be an overglorified cargo ship. But Daw-Radiance asked for its specifications, so Daw-Radiance got its specifications. There was room for at least six rows of rifles, handguns, ammunition, auric rounds and grenades, crystal-weave armor, and other means of protection, which cumulative could last a small platoon a fairly long time.
Private Tremel was himself used to this sort of work so he moved quickly, tallying the weapons on a datapad with his finger. He barely noticed Zack when he walked in, closed the door behind him, and stepped over boxes of ammo and guns.
Private Tremel had taken off most of his body armor except for his combat pants; that left a close fitting black t-shirt which revealed his musculature quite thoroughly, his dog tags just barely hanging around his strong neck, in the crevice between his pecs. That also left him without a helmet; Zack was looking at a young man with a blondeish flat top, still revealing those amazing deer-in-the-headlights eyes that he always had.
"Are you busy?" Zack asked after some silence.
The sound of his voice made Private Tremel jump. "Oh! Sorry, um, Mr. Alton."
"Zack. You can say Zack."
"Oh." An expectant silence. Private Tremel blinked in confusion. "Oh! Oh, and you can call me Matt. It's, um, short for Mathias."
"That so."
"Or, well, you know. I don't like my full name but you can call me that if you want. I think it's Solan for 'Fire' or something..."
"'Fire' is Mathiase. Mathias is the same spelling but your pronunciation means compassion."
Matt shrugged. "Cool."
"Just cos I've gotten used to speaking Basic doesn't mean I've forgotten the old language." Biting his lip, Zack began to tap the side of his thigh in nervousness. "So, um, speaking of which."
"What did you need again?"
"You wouldn't have... I mean, do you think that..."
"What?"
"No, it's just, I really needed..." In a culmination of thoughts, of emotions and lack of sleep, Zack sat down on a crate and buried his face in his hands, feeling tears in his eyes, uncontrollably whimpering and shaking. He whispered, "Oh, Gods..." and he wished he could fall into a pit, or better yet, into outer space.
Confused or just flustered, Matt accidentally dropped his data pad while trying to replace it on a shelf, then kneeled down next to Zack. "Wh-whoa, whoa! What's wrong?"
Zack shook his head, sniffed once, then twice, then rubbed his eyes clean. In a split second he had regained his composure, and but for red scleras it was although he had never cried to begin with. "Nothing. N-never mind, I'll just go and tell Ahn to-"
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
Met with Matt's wide eyes Zack blinked and opened his mouth, after much deliberation finally asking, "Have you ever done Requiem before?" Now Matt blinked in confusion, and Zack followed up with one long sentence: "I asked Dr. Bolero, but she couldn't help me and you're the only other Solan on the ship so I didn't know who else to ask, and, and... and yeah. So do you have any tips?"
At this revelation, Matt's face, once bright and wide, became shrouded. He frowned and sat down on a crate across from Zack, folding his hands between his knees. "This is for the guys that died on the Astra, isn't it?" he inquired. Zack nodded. "And your friends too, right?" Zack nodded again. Matt stared at the floor. "I thought... actually, I thought I could do it too, you know. I never got to know them, or really fight with them even, but we spent enough time together that I figured it'd be cool if I could help them in some way."
"So have you ever done it before?"
Matt shook his head. "Never had to. I guess we're both new at it."
"...Can I tell you a secret?"
A nod.
"I have done Requiem before. Once."
"Who for?"
Zack stared not at Matt, but at the space behind him, or perhaps beyond him. "When I was twelve I had a pet rabbit."
"What was his name?"
"Her. It was Maina." He chuckled to himself. "It's, um, it was Solan for Marshmallow." And then Matt laughed, and he smiled; Zack saw it in his eye and he knew he was soft to the core. "Well... Some years later she died. Had a stroke and we put her to sleep. Gods, I was so sad; that was the first time I ever had anything die on me. So I did Requiem just for her." Zack found himself sniffling again, and although he managed to subdue tears he couldn't stop his voice from cracking anymore. "Now, now this is just so much bigger, and I'm scared. I'm not writing a song for a rabbit anymore, I'm writing a song for people, for my friends and your friends, for people who actually have families somewhere. And if I mess up... if I send them up with some stupid half-baked ditty from the mind of a Computer Engineer whose best friend used to be a rabbit, I couldn't forgive myself."
This time, a deliberate silence, although Zack patiently waited for Matt to say or do something. Matt pursed his lips, and then moved his crate over; with several noisy scoots he moved in next to him, so that they were side to side. "...Your rabbit was your best friend?" Now Zack nodded. "Well... that's good enough experience for me. You're gonna help me write this, right?" Another nod. "Cool. I'll, um, try and help you too. But I'm not really good at it, so-"
Zack chuckled, shaking his head; Matt really had missed the whole point of his tirade. Or maybe, just maybe, that part about his best friend really was the whole point. He just didn't realize it until Matt pointed it out. "Yeah," Zack said. "We'll get through this. Right now, we'll do it."
"Yeah?"
"...Yeah! Yeah." Zack exchanged a candid smile with Matt, seeking out his lucid eyes. "Just us newbies."
"Some of the crew and I have been talking..." Dea-Lin said, exchanging a glance with a smiling Snow, a satisfied Martine, and a reluctant Darrin. "...and we've agreed to give you guys more time. We can just park out here in dead space for right now, and wait until your Solans have done their thing before entering Senna."
"I see. Well-"
"But don't think we're doing this lightly! We had to do a lot of hard thinking, and I was personally against it, and I still think it's awfully stupid."
"Sure. But-"
"Not to mention you're putting all of us out, not just us, but yourselves. We're sitting ducks, in the middle of the worst quadrant in the galaxy, with one of the most valuable ships in the galaxy. But no pressure."
"They're done."
The entire Blizzard's bridge went silent. "What?"
"Rather, they are finishing," Ahn clarified for Pahn. "Zackary and Private Tremel have composed their Requiem and are currently dedicating it as we speak."
"Sounds nice," Snow said, slowly and rather disappointed at the anti-climax. "When do we get to hear it?" he asked.
"Never," Ahn replied. "Only the dead and the composers may hear it."
Another silence. "So... that's it?" Dea-Lin asked.
Pahn gave a curt nod. "Our doctor will have the bodies nanitized within the hour. We'll make the system border in fine condition."
In the background, behind Dea-Lin, Darrin began to have a small bickering with Snow and Martine. Dea-Lin cracked her neck. "Well then. I suppose we journey on. Thank you for that panic, sirs. We'll see you at Senna Prime's Docking station. Blizzard out." Still whispering angrily at Darrin, Snow slammed a hand on a button, and the communication ended.
Ahn turned to Flower. "Are they done?" he asked.
She nodded. "They just buzzed me while you were talking. They're ready for nanitization."
"Very well." Ahn gazed into the viewscreen, which was now a window to the space outside. Far in the distance, a silver speck represented Senna Prime. And that-- that would be the beginning of the real troubles.
"Is everyone back yet?" Ahn asked Zack, waiting by the threshold of their cargo bay doors.
Zack, who was just stepping on from the bustling crowds of the Senna docking station, shook his head. "No. Blizzard crew's still out there, and Matt's not back yet either."
Flavin space stations were the busiest of their kind, more shopping centers than hubs. As a result a lot of smuggling did go on at Flavin stations; the Astra was searched thoroughly, although no traces of bodies were found and, thankfully, no reports on a multi-billion credit Daw-Radience ship had to be made. The news, apparently, had not yet reached all government officials.
Now was the time to stock on food and other essentials, which was exactly what they were doing. Ahn yelled over the noise to Zack: "I'm going to message Dea-Lin! I'll be right back!" Zack nodded as Ahn left for the bridge, and then sat down on a barrel filled with pickles. Now that this whole debacle was over, just maybe he could get some sleep...
Suddenly, footsteps. Zack opened his eyes and saw Matt stepping up the ramp into the cargo bay. "What took you so long?" Zack asked.
"Oh, uhm," Matt turned a little red. Zack suddenly noticed that he was carrying a small box with a handle. It had holes punched in it. "I was, um, looking around for new ammo or something, and, um, I thought you might like this." Awkwardly he trudged up to Zack and put the box down next to him, then quickly walked into the ship's interior.
Zack wrinkled his brow. He picked up the box, placed it in his lap, and opened up the top. His jaw dropped; inside was a baby rabbit, blueish grey fur with spots of white, and pretty black eyes. It was half asleep, breathing fast, its ears and whiskers twitching briefly. Zack smiled, he laughed and he let a tear stream down his face all at once. He looked towards the door that Matt had headed towards, but he was gone. Nothing needed to be said anyway. Still beaming, Zack reached in and pet the rabbit with the edge of his index finger. He'd get some sleep tonight. After all, he may have a new best friend.
ÒFunÓ fact for ÒFans!Ó: I really had a bunny named Marshmellow (sic). That was all a true story. It was really sad, but I still have her memories, so itÕs okay :). She loved bananas. REALLY loved them!
Hi!
Aww, Zack's a little bit pathetic, if you haven't figured it out already. But he likes his animal friends, and after he gets some sleep you'll see he's really much sweeter than he is acting right now. Matt, however, is a very nice guy--he was never meant to be a soldier, that's for sure. And Darrin definitely has some soft spots himself; he may be arguing with Snow in the end, but as a side note, he actually doesn't regret advocating Zack's choice.
Anyway, some new problems will have to be addressed in the next issue; How will they disguise the Astra 7? Can the Auric drive be fixed? And will Shora be up to fixing it? Stay tuned!
As per usual, thanks for reading!
Questions? Comments? Recommendations? Fan Mail? Hate Mail, maybe? Wanna just chat? Email me at ThePleiadesCall@gmail.com . Love to hear from you!
If you like Starlight 7, maybe there's the very vague possibility you'll like other stories I've submitted:
Charmed Reborn (celebrity), Final Fantasy Rosa (celebrity), Pokemon: Amethyst (celebrity), Teth (fantasy), Diana Celes (High School), Hallow (sci-fi/fantasy), Crystal (Encounters).