[center][h3]Elfydd's Door, Outer Belt Monitoring Station[/h3][/center] There was a light in the darkness, a small and timid turquoise in the gloom. Most of the station's five person crew were resting – after all, 'new year' based on the calendar of old Earth had long fallen out of favour for most, with the exception of one city – but Chicago Singh, the team's medic and hydroponics lead, could never sleep when New Year's Eve was coming to a close. On the tiny view screen in front of him, the broadcast redirected through from Pwyll station with surprising clarity – from the central square garden at York-Mumbai, nearly midnight at their local time. All throughout was spread a thick crowd of both locals and visitors, mostly near-baseline humans – though parades of any kind always attracted some measure of gremlin attention. A 20-something woman stood in the view of the camera, form fitted well by the novelty red jumper, with a nearly invisible microphone curled under her right ear and just in front of her chin and a bright green synthcarb cup full of lemonade in her left hand. “Well everybody it's just 43 minutes to go till the timer for 'new year' back on Earth! As you can see behind me,” she said with a big smile, “last minute preparations are happenin' for the floats. We've got quite the range, everything from classics of Earth film like 'Fast and the Furious' or 'Transformers', multiple sports themed floats, and...” She leant in close to the camera and gave a slightly cheeky grin, sipping her lemonade before gesturing for the camera man to follow, revealing the long line of machines being made ready to start their journey down the ring-shaped 'main road' of the arcology. Second to last of the line was a slightly sheepish looking float, still mostly covered in hefty tarpaulin. “...the-” Three alerts on the terminal to his right. Chicago swivelled his chair and put the tablet down as he tapped the main screen, moving the unfinished game of solitaire off to one side. It was a fairly minor warning, in theory – fluctuations in the station's fusion reactor, quickly restabilised without issue. The second warning seemed unrelated – a new light source detected further out in the system, close to the First Maiden... probably nothing more than a homestead cargo ship that had failed to dim unnecessary visual signals, that's all. But the third warning? Chicago scratched under his chin at the stubble that had just about started growing long enough to curl slightly. He paused, his mind racing for some connection. A slight, ever so slight, gravitational pull. [i]Caused by one of the maidens?[/i] He thought, [i]But this is much closer, even Fifth Maiden's orbit doesn't bring it this close. So...[/i] Once again a pause. A familiar whisper in the back of his mind, as he glanced back at the now increasingly disrupted broadcast of the old earth new year's parade. “It...” he felt the words started to fade on his tongue even as he started to speak, “...after, five... five hundred years?” [color=077B0A][i][b]It wouldn't be impossible,[/b][/i][/color] echoed in his mind. He forced himself to blink, to breathe, and felt a hand on his shoulder that wasn't really there. With lightning purpose his hands dashed across the terminal, prepping and launching a pair of monitor drones as he turned on some of the full visual external cameras. The light from the camera feeds was blinding, a fractal of colours endlessly turning in upon itself. Like a star its intensity was unyielding... and then just as quickly the light was gone, but the gravity was not. Whatever was there might be imperceptible to a human eye, but it was definitely [i]there[/i]. The hand on his shoulder squeezed ever so slightly, a reassurance that would never leave him. With a deep breath he tapped a button to open up a comlink with the rest of the station's staff. “Attention, one two three, uh... I know you all just went to catch a bit of shut-eye but, well... I think you should come see this.” [center]---- [h3]GN Hunter's Eye, Green Table Naval Patrol Vessel[/h3][/center] The click-clack of dark green office shoes against astroyard steel only made everything feel even more like ice, and Mabelo Kerina did not appreciate the cold. Dry, pristine, but cold... [color=077B0A][i][b]I miss the humidity,[/b][/i][/color] said the tall purple creature that lingered at every doorway she didn't intend to use, [color=077B0A][i][b]and the midday views.[/b][/i][/color] [i]Me too, Archie,[/i] she thought, before entering the door she was aiming for – the closest that any of the near identical silver-white slabs connecting each segment of the ship had to a 'grand' entrance. A stylized green crown symbol served as the primary indicator that beyond it lay the bridge. With the push of a button to its side she watched as the door gave a click and a hiss, opening to reveal a rounded, multi-layered control room with wide view screens and roughly a dozen staff in neatly pressed white, green and black uniforms were sat at a number of controls. Mabelo put an ornately ringed hand through the thick curls of her hair, wincing slightly as the room's leading figure – dressed from head to toe in pure white – turned to her, placing his right hand firmly against his own heart. The thin-rimmed naval cap he wore was trimmed in green and black, and had been designed in the traditional captain's style – resembling an iron crown of flowers and swords. “Captain,” Mabelo said through a tight-lipped smile as she glanced at the one remaining seat. “Representative Kerina, thank you for joining us. We were about to depart – please take a seat, we are expecting Gate departure to be, uh... vigorous, for civilians unused to space travel.” “I know, I've...” she sneered, “I've done the training exercises in preparation. I wanted to be here.” “I never said otherwise.” Mabelo could feel eyes in the back of her skull, and something in her chest, but she held it back. Thankfully, she could breathe again as a gentle voice cut through the intercom. “Please, take your seats. We will be departing for Sol in three minutes. All checks are currently complete or in-progress. Thank you.” Mabelo took her seat to the captain's left and strapped herself in with a click. As the countdown ticked away on her seat's personal viewscreen, her mind wandered to that balcony. She knew the journey would be safe – the Hunter's Eye was being accompanied by a pair of armed escorts from Kilohaven, and on the other side of the gate they would meet 'forward team' and their drone supports which had already entered the orbit of Earth's moon. The roughest of ground had already been smoothed out... and yet, she couldn't help but feel like she might never see another sunrise from her balcony again. [color=077B0A][b][i]Don't panic,[/i][/b][/color] whispered a voice that her mind knew was coming from both the bridge doorway and somewhere small in the vast space in front of them, [color=077B0A][i][b]it'll be okay. And besides, soon you'll be able to compare-.[/b][/i][/color] “Opening the gate.” The voice, and the knowledge of a creature unique to her mind's eye, was cut out. An enigma unfolded before her eyes, and for a moment Mabelo wondered if the prism that was unravelling before her was truly real. But it was. Her heart was full and beyond that spiral was a home once so like her own... … … … “We have arrived,” said the intercom, and the kaleidoscope was gone. Mabelo could breathe again. The great darkness, and the cold, and light of a star so much like Annwn. And there came the readings, and the imagery – a strange marble of grey and dull greens. She could faintly overhear the captain speaking something to his crew, word of signals being detected of vessels unknown to Avalon, but Mabelo was only focused on the planet below, and of the arching of the sun's light across it. [color=077B0A][i][b]It's cold down here too.[/b][/i][/color] [center]---- [h3]KH Wait In Gold, Kilohaven Shield Hauler[/h3][/center] There were three things Magnus loved, and three things he hated. Magnus loved his ship. Just like his wife, it was big and beautiful and decorated for the practicalities of carrying a wide variety of industrial-scale multipurpose fabricator machines. It wasn't a flagship of the merchant fleet, of course, but it was right up there, a credit to him... ...or, according to everyone else, his homestead. Magnus hated his homestead, which often surprised people, but Kilohaven was mostly famous for being green and covered in trees, just like every other ass-forsaken settlement on Avalon. For you see, Magnus loved the certainty of steel, the churning of engines, the raw might of the launch and the loading and unloading of cargo. He had risen through Kilohaven Aerospace Logistics to become an esteemed upper senior member, a well-respected titan of industry... ...or, as some of the lazy bum-rags would whisper, a 'syndicate baron'. Magnus hated how the Table watched him, scrutinized every inch of his dealings. Even now, when they were offering this position to assist with escorting the second wave of visitor vessels to Sol, something about the nature of it just felt like a spit in the face. A backhanded compliment. [color=077B0A][i][b]But what if...[/b][/i][/color] whispered the talking pig that leant against his ankle. [i]Yeah Francis Aubergine?[/i] he thought, because Magnus loved to hear Francis Aubergine's ideas. [color=077B0A][b][i]What if you did something really bold? The Wait In Gold doesn't have to go to Sol, you know...[/i][/b][/color] ...huh. If he went to a different system and established first contact – surely not too difficult, he'd made sure to bring a translator gremlin or two, could get a gestalt or two running in the background to puzzle out any odd spots... why, he had everything needed to make some real money, and be known as the first man to wherever the hell place he visited. ...but if he went to Sol, he would just be running a mostly unneeded escort role for Table bureaucrats. He sneered through his moustache. Magnus [i]hated[/i] bureaucrats most of all. Without another word he punched in some alternate coordinates and set about the checks for gate departure. The Table might notice, of course, but by then it'd be too late. In a kaleidoscope of light, he was gone... and almost immediately regretted his decision.