Part 1: HomecomingLocation: Edge of Arneb Space, ~30k AU from Quadrant Barrier
Taxan Date: 59 Nexa, 1081 HWK
Terran Date: January 1st, 2483 ADThe upper docking bay was colder than usual. Maybe it was the increased security, the lines of overstuffed Nobles in their maroon and black armored longcoats and bodysuits ringing the area around them. Though it’d been already a year since he’d been home, it could be that as well. The little ship he’d been on for last few months was certainly more homey than this leviathan of a starcruiser he’d called home for the decades before. A human stood in front of a young creature that looked something between a human and animal. The human seemed more amused at the display around them rather than intimidated. The boy gave one of their number a covert obscene gesture.
“We better get gone before they GET us gone kid. You sure you’re ok here? They did take my little present did they?” The man spoke with the smarmy mocking timber of any twenty something who already thought he knew the universe. A smirk crawled its way onto the youth’s face, though upset he couldn’t keep this two families at once, “Na’way, got it right here.” He patted his chest before nodding at the security guards. “Sparky sent ‘em down here. Da will yell about it later, don worry. If ya wanna stay for a bit...”
The human glanced back at his ship awkwardly. “Nah, Tobias said you guys are headed straight back across the Barrier. Don’t wanna get caught in whatever that causes.” The young man nodded. Another few moments of silence blundered by be another voice barked out from the ship, “Stop being macho and say goodbye dammit!” The human grumbled and rolled his eyes, “I swear I’m dropping him off in deep space… well… cya around kid.” He moved back into the ship as the boy rubbed one of the bright pink colored sleeves of his sweatshirt sheepishly for another moment. But as the man reached the final step he grunted and stomped forward, “Ag man… Joel!” The human stopped again and looked back.
The stocky little otter’s face twisted from snark to serious in a moment, a breath went in and both unnatural language and accent came out carefully controlled. Bouncing across the words like an animal hopping through the grass. “U vahra ma, rusati ma, ven atha ma.” The man’s smirk faded, knowing the meaning and sincerity of those words despite this fluffy sounding cadence. He gave the boy a genuine smile and a nod, “Careful with that, I may find a way across that damn Barrier and hold you to it.” He chuckled and hoisted himself the rest of the way in calling back, “Keep these other ‘moffie’ bastards in line for me till then, ok?”
The boy folded his arms and smiled, watching the hatch for the ship close and, a few moments, its liftoff and departure.
Behind him the large set of double doors slid open, an aging looking rabbit with unnaturally yellow fur walked into the docking platform area wearing a ratty old auburn coat. The otter looked back at him for a moment, a look of concern replacing the smile. “Where ya been, Da? Joel an’ the others already left.” The old lapine sighed, “Sorry Yoyo, was in an argument with Rick over leaving so fast. But he doesn’t want to wait ‘til Ben recovers, he says we need to leave ASAP.” The man shook his head, “It’s nothing against your friends out here but after the condition Ben and Robin are in? Some of the Warden are calling for Henox’nacaka.” The young otter bared his teeth, “Ja right? Fok’eads wanna trample rodent rights then use ‘em to start a fokking war? Typical.” He grunted and sneered at one of the Warden as they passed him to leave the bay. The rabbit sighed again, “It’s not that simple Yonath, you know that. Come on, let’s head to the bridge and watch the show. The inside of the Barrier is definitely interesting, you know, for a… what was it Rick said? Quantochronodimensional Compression Zone?.” The youth snorted and followed the man into the corridor, “That ain’t a fokking word an he knows it, just trying to look smart.” He paused, adding before the conversation continued, “How’s Ben?” The rabbit looked grim, “He’ll be fine in a few days.” The otter’s eyes narrowed, “How’s Robbie?” The man didn’t answer immediately. “Toby. How. Is. Robbie?” Tobias looked down, “Minor dehydration and malnutrition, some of their questioning may have been a bit too… personal.”
Tobias could feel the testosterone starting to boil in the youth. “The F.R.S. didn’t exactly follow Taxan prisoner laws, course they didn’t know we existed till now so we’re… forgiving that.” “She’s still a FOKKIN’ PERSON!” There was an odd glow to the boy’s emerald eyes, an odd glow the rabbit knew very well, and one that made him shudder. “Where they at? Medical?” Toby nodded, “Yonath you can’t see them till tomorrow. Micah doesn’t want anyone down there yet till he’s sure of… well whatever he’s looking for.” Yonath’s face soured, “Whatever ‘e’s looking for!? Da you STILL run this ship right? Blerrie hell just order ‘im to TELL ya!”
The ship shuddered, sending the smaller boy into the rabbit’s arms as he braced himself. “Looks like we already entered the Barrier.” The man spoke up smirking, the youth didn’t push away immediately, it’d been months since he’d even seen his adopted father. He stayed where he was for a just a moment, a convenient excuse for accidental affection. The ship continued to shudder slightly, the otter jerked away mocking, “Get off ya moffie, go hug ya buck ‘er something.” He gave a triumphant pose, “Guess that means I go straight ta medical, ha.”
Tobias gave him a bemused glare, “No, you can go secure that mess you call a room.” A devilish smirk covered the boy’s face, “druk 'n dagga, druk a drol, druk 'n vinger in jou hol, Da!” He turned and darted down the corridor for the lift.
Suddenly the floor shook, the whole ship shuddered as audible sounds of metal buckling deafened them before a massive jolt darkened the hallway, sending the otter headfirst the wall and into darkness.
He woke an unknown amount of time later, his backpack was in his lap now, his vision was a little blurry but he could see his adopted father reach over and push his head back then the feeling of a cold cloth running over his temple.
“Worst is over, the ship half tore itself apart Tobe but we’re… well we’re somewhere.” The voice was a surrogate uncle of his, Derrick Strider, he’d run the Vao Hrayao orphanage all of them had met at. It seemed like a million years ago now.
Another round of shuddering, alarms sounded, a piercing migraine split his skull open with pain. He could hear the rabbit shouting over it, “B.D.A. STRIDER! NOW!”
The alert droned, “AUTOMATIC ALERT. DEFCON 1. SHIP STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY IS BELOW DANGER THRESHOLD. EVACUATION PROCEDURE INITIATED.”
He clamped his eyes shut, trying to ignore the sirens, focusing on Derrick and Toby instead.
“Rick, what’s going on now? Medical isn’t responding, I think he’s got a concussion, where the hell IS everyone?” His father’s voice was frustrated and panicking. There was a moment as the alarms quieted to a low roar, he glanced up to see the slightly overweight skunk looking at them with quiet shock. “Port side wing is gone, it ripped straight through medical. Tobe, there isn’t a Medical anymore.”
The sound of the alert droning in the background continued as the mean stared quietly at each other for a moment. The skunk darted down the corridor and Yonath felt himself being picked up, “Hold on to your backpack, Yony.”
The world started to darken again, he struggled to speak over the blaring noise, “Dad, I didn’t...”
He woke up again, the red lights of the lower level storage compartment were around him, he felt himself being laid down. His senses started to return. He was in an upright chair of some kind, no it was some kind of a chamber or pod. The backpack was being looped around his shoulders and the rabbit was buckling him in, “Yoyo, keep ahold of your backpack”
His mouth tasted like iron and felt like sandpaper, words were hard to push out, “I didn’t….” The man put a hand on his cheek, “Yoyo, just hold on for little bit. We can talk on the surface. We’re going to try to land on a nearby planet. When you wake up we should be already building some shelters...” “DROEGEMEIER WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!” Derrick and his young son burst onto the scene, the man was irate.
The rabbit’s face was etched with concern, “Rick, you have my authorization to abort Yellow Star and use the pod for Arven.” The other man’s brown eye’s sparkled like gemstones, “That is MY son’s survival pod Tobias, YOU abort Yellow Star.”
The ship shook again as the rabbit slowly turned to look at the enraged man, “Yellow Star is your creation, Rick. I... can’t do it. I’d rather be a thief than a murderer. I’m sorry.” The door to the pod shut as the boy’s senses came back more. He couldn’t hear the men anymore but both started to turn violent, the rabbit fur standing on end. He could see Arven, the man’s son, his friend, running to cower behind anything he could find as sparks started to form in the air itself. He struggled to unbelt himself and forced himself up off of the seat and slammed his fists into the glass of the pod. He could feel the pod starting to slow his vital signs but continued his assault on the glass but another massive jolt flung him back into the seat, his slowed heart rate and consciousness leaving him unable to get back to the glass. The otter only managed one last attempt to speak as his eyes closed, “I didn’t...”
Blackness overtook him.
Part 2: The First DayLocation: Deck 9: Cargo Bay
Date: N/AConsciousness returned, but sight did not. There was nothing but the dark and a hiss as the door meekly unlocked with a hydraulic noise. His body felt weak from the time in suspended animation. He fell forward as his senses returned, knocking the pod door open and falling to the ground in a heap finally finishing the sentence, “...mean to say that.”
For a time the youth lay in pitch blackness, his head hurt, occasionally a high pitched noise in his brain sent him wincing into a ball on the floor. He tried to open his eyes but they already felt open, he he still saw only utter darkness. Gathering up all the saliva left in his mouth to push back the dryness he spoke aloud this time.
“Dad? Rick?” No answer came as he pulled up more spit to keep calling out from his collapsed position on the floor. “I can’t fokkin see. Damn pod fokked up my eyes or something.” Fighting to get his mouth ready to speak again there was only silence, it made him pause. There was noone there, a quiet panic started to settle as the events of the last hour started to process.
He must still be on the bottom deck. Had the ship crashed? Maybe rescue efforts were having trouble getting down here. The ship maybe mostly under the ground or submerged or- Another bout of ringing in his ears crept up on him growing louder and louder until it felt like his ear drums were going to be pop, he grabbed the sides of his head and gritted his teeth.
He woke up again, having passed out from the pain. The fall. The memory popped back into place, the otter reached up and felt the right side of this head, he winced in pain as soon as he touched his temple. The injury was apparently in suspended animation with him, but it explained the intense headaches. He had to get out and to the surface, it was the only option.
“‘Sides...” he spoke out loud to the emptiness around him putting both hands on the ground to lift himself up, “Vao Hrayao... prolly popped loose and is landed up there just now. Gotta keep... those moffies mitts off ma ship.” With a grunt he pushed himself to a sitting position, though there was a weight on his chest. Another moment of panic, another surge of adrenaline thinking he may be more injured than he thought. It woke him up fully and left him cursing the blindness plaguing his attempts at survival. The youth’s hand quickly shot to his chest, trying to slow down so as to not cause more damage.
“EINA!”
His hand collided with a large sack unexpectedly, his mind recalling what it was in a few moments. A moment of hope cross his mind, supplies. He fought through fog realizing the emergency lights were likely making searching extremely difficult, the backpack would have his torch. If nothing else that would attract attention to his location. He dug into the backpack on his chest blindly, feeling around between odd pieces of paper, and kits of various kinds. He’d have to pull them all out and go through them one by one to find the medical kit once he had given the searchers a light source and movement to follow.
Years seemed to follow of pawing around in the dark trying to find what should be a easy task, finally his knuckles met the rubber of the torch’s side. Quickly grabbing it and fumbling for the button a sudden blast of intense light hit his face, his body seized in pain, his mind swam as the the shrill whine came back to shatter his ears. The dysphoria made him dry heave, collapse forward onto the backpack, and close his eyes again.
He woke back up, this time with a jolt, followed by more headache pain. Then the realization came that the blinding light wasn’t another attack but rather… real. He’d fallen unconscious and prone over his backpack holding the torch, it was now illuminating part of the room. There was a momentarily leap in his heart that he wasn’t blind, but it only grew the concern. If the emergency lights had failed, that meant the antimatter cores were completely offline as well as all battery reserves and solar panels.
Yonath rolled over and sat up and sat back up, lifting a hand and gingerly feeling his forehead while trying to parse what would cause such a catastrophic loss of power. He winced again as he got to his temple, feeling hesitantly around where he’d slammed into the wall earlier. A wet feeling prevaded on his hand, he didn’t need to put it in the light to know what it was. Then came his eyes finally adjusting to the light, and taking in what was in front of him. The dirty bare metal of the cargo bay was nothing new, but a cringe twisted his face as the blackened skeleton became recognizable.
He shuffled back to wall away from it, unsure what to expect. Sitting in silence staring at the decrepit thing for several minutes. The boy’s mind parsed the scene and the previous hour, the cringe lessened into an almost disappointed scowl before words escaped his mouth easier this time. “Sorry Rick, but you shoulda known what Da would do.” He sighed talking to himself had always been something he preferred to do, it helped make thoughts real… solid. Moving one leg around, then the other, testing them to make sure they weren’t injured. The otter passed the light over his legs and arms, then used it to root around the backpack his father had strapped to him. Most of it was just stuff he always kept ready, but it looked like other things had been hurriedly crammed into it. An obviously marked first aid kit, emergency kit, and repair kit from the engineering deck had been crammed on top of his personal stuff. He grunted, no wonder it was so heavy, they’d stuffed the thing full.
The emergency kit came out, all of these had headlamps with elastic bands in them. He winced and groaned fitting the thing around the obvious wound on his head. The other torch went back to the belt on his shorts after he’d rearranged some of the top items to make the pack less bulky. With that finally done he stood up fully, finally, a wave of dizziness and nausea hit but the youth managed to stay standing and conscious this time. He swung the backpack into position and walked over, nudging the skunk-shaped skull of the skeleton and shaking his head. As he did so the other pod came into view and with it another leap of his heart and a double take, it was open. He started to job over but almost fell again from a combination of dizziness and the weight of the pack, slowly to a walk he strode over. The pod was empty. Yonath looked around with furrowed brow, no body, no marks in the dust. A glance back at the pod and a raised eyebrow proceeded a shrug, there wasn’t anything else to do here, but whatever had been in the pod wasn’t there now.
Part 3: Cura Te IpsumIt wasn’t hard to find the lift and find a pry bar, though the one he’d uncovered looked a million years old it completed the task of opening the doors. The usual black rubber around the doors was gone and made them easier to open, they’d likely been ripped out due to the hull breach he heard before he’d been put in the pod.
The lift was gone, though he’d expected that with the air seals torn out, it was likely floating through space now. He looked around the cavity, grinning as he spotted the maintenance hatch. While most of the engineering team had marvelled at his ability to navigate the labyrinth of maintenance tubes that extended along the 700 meter long ship, the security team had never been so keen on him and his friends moving through the ship out of sight of their cameras and purposefully tripping proximity alarms for them to investigate. The youth giggled a bit climbing the ladder hidden without the wall of the lift, this was going to be easier than he first thought. He imagined poking his head out from the Deck 3 bar, known as Threefore, and find out his father Tobias had had the whole Order trying to carve open the heavily armored battleship’s side to get him out.
Suddenly he could hear something, a drill maybe? The whine immediately crescendoed exponentially and his head started to swim. Panic came, he glanced down into a black pit, he’d been climbing for a long time. The otter couldn’t even hear himself cry out over the ringing in his ears as a massive wave of vertigo and pain slammed into his brain like a sledge hammer. He tried desperately to lock his arms and legs onto the ladder and brace himself, clamping his eyes shut to keep from throwing up again.
Yonath opened his eyes, he felt…. Weightless, but his legs hurt. As the pain subsided and his vision cleared he realized he was slowly swinging back and forth. The upside down words “DECK 4” were marred into the doors in front of him, as if paint had eaten into the metal. A sharp pain shot through his right leg.
“Ag!” The youth used a burst of energy from his left leg and tail to shove himself up enough to grab the ladder. He fallen backward, legs catching the ladder they were wound around. He’d been hanging upside down and unconscious for some amount of time. Shoving his cramping and injured bare leg outward straight to try to recover he glanced at the doors again. Deck 4 was the medical bay. His eyes softened, it wouldn’t hurt to at least check… would it? He glanced up, grabbing for the torch on his belt. It was still there, thank the stars for small miracles. Tilting upward made his face sour into a pout, the lift had smashed into the maintenance tunnel not but a floor up, blocking his path. The boy mused it was a sign he was right about checking the medical wards for his brother and girlfriend.
He waited for a few minutes for his leg to uncramp and recover some, then another few just to make sure the migraine didn’t come back again, finally he slowly moved around the ladder and hopped to the platform beside it. He yelped out again and fell over into a heap, it seemed the ladder incident had injured his leg. He gave an utterance of words that would have peeled any paint left on the walls, then opened the hatch and crawl into the lift cavity proper. The narrow ledge around it plus his aching leg made getting to the door exceptionally dangerous, however seeing as he’d lugged the heavy pry bar with him…. Of course the door had been blow open by depressurization. He wormed his way into the bay and sat down on the floor to rest a minute grumbling, “Course it was open, got fokkin’ dad’s luck, swear...” He glanced around with the torch while resting. The bay was completely empty, the lights had no coverings or filament lamps, likely blow out by the… He froze, eyes widening as the smell of soil was suddenly keenly apparent to him. To his right where the wall lined with Transmat rooms should be… was a wall of dirt spilling into the ship and covering the port side of the deck under several feet of earth.
“Bosbefok...” The youth muttered eyes moving as if analyzing the spectacle before him. How did this happen? Was the ship on it’s side? No, gravity was clearly correct and the artificial gravity couldn’t be online with all the power in the ship being dead. Though trying to thinking about up not really being up made his head spin for a moment, he made a mental note not to consider that one again. He waited until he started getting restless again and stood back up muttering, “Can’t let them dig their way in before I climb out, ha.”
As he moved to the unburied side of the ship and walked down the darkened hallway he considered it. This was halfway up the ship and it didn’t feel tipped to one side… “Urp..” He pushed more thoughts of altered equilibrium away and focused. That would mean at least 70 meters of Odyssey was buried under the dirt. He couldn’t fathom how fast the ship would have had to be going to slid far enough along the ground to bury that much of it. He looked upward and wondered if he’d even be able to get out through the Threefore windows. He may have to travel all the way to the bridge via the maintenance tubes, he pouted a little thinking how long that would take. So much for a quick escape, and he was already dragging his feet with fatigue. In fact… He stopped and looked down, realizing the carpet was… gone. It looked like it’d be turned to dust or something. The neat white carpet and green stripe marking starboard were all gone, just rusted metal in their place. ‘Exposure to vacuum must do all kinds of weird shit to carpet and rubber’ he thought to himself shrugging and rounding the corner to the treatment wards. They were all closed, he smiled, maybe one stayed sealed? Yonath jogged forward as best he could with his leg and head dogging him every step, one by one the wards were pryed open with all the strength he had. He worked feverishly tearing all 16 wards open even though his head was pounding even worse and cold sweat poured down his face and into the wound on his temple. One by one they were all devoid of air seals and empty. ‘Maybe they grabbed an air tank’, ‘maybe they...’ He felt light headed… then paused, smiling broadly at the final ward. It looked almost new save some rust, the rubber all intact. “Awe!” The little otter yelped and jammed the bar in and pushing… then shoving… then kicking… He flopped down panting, exhausted, hot, and thirsty.
“Yeah… I had to climb out a hole in the ceiling to get outta there.”
There was never a point in his life he’d been so glad to hear that whiney, nasally, voice. His pupils shrunk as the surge of relief washed over him. He fell backward and let his head fall backward looking behind him. A beanpole of a raccoon stood leaning against the wall looking coy. “Yoyo, jeez man, take a rest already. You look like the dark side of Eath Hombra.”
There was a childish smile on the otter’s face, “Ben?! Ya fokkin’ trashmuncher… I been trying to SAVE your asses and you been sittin’ there doing fokkol.” The raccoon suddenly looked grim, “I… can’t find Robin.” Yonath’s smile faded, he rolled over and wobbly sat back up, “Dat right…” The older boy walked over and quietly sat down beside him, “I knew you’d somehow survive, Yoyo. War didn’t get ya. Warden’s didn’t get ya. Will take more than a massive shipwreck to kill my little brother, eh?” Yonath felt his eyes droop, “Ja, bro.” He half heartedly glanced to one side, the raccoon was smiling empathetically, “It might be late out, we just can’t tell… you know… underground. Maybe you should clean your head up and bandage it with the kit in your bag, you can get some sleep after that, heh. Need help?” The otter shook his head to clear it, “Na’way, I got it. Check tha other rooms again, Robbie maybe in one. We can crawl ta the Promenade after I can this damn thing covered and get a few hours sleep in, ja nee?”
The raccoon nodded, watching hesitantly while Yonath struggled back to his feet again and stumbled to the bathroom. Inside he looked into the mirror, seeing himself for the first time since the crash through a mirror darkly. Bloodshot green eyes stared back at him, there was a twinge of hopelessness in his mind as he saw not but a faint glint of viridian starlight in them. He put a hand on his cheek and pulled down on it in veiled frustration, nearly a whole third of the right side of his face his face was matted with blood and grime. He set the medical kit down, instinctively turning the faucet handle before remembering nothing worked and sighing loudly. He glanced down at the emergency kit, it would have a small water container and assorted personal care items, the boy shook his head, realizing there were decks of this to go, wasting supplies cleaning up now would be an asinine move.
“Remember to use the antibiotic stuff!” His older brother’s nagging made him roll his eyes, though he dug around to find a set of packed wipes and ointment before setting to work trying to clean the large gash on the side of this head. It took some time as for some reason the blood had already dried and matted the area, “Guess the damn klap to the head’s been knocking me out longer than a minute.” He yelped back outside almost bragging at the older boy as he worked to get enough of the wound clean to wrap it.
His arms had started to feel a little weak at this point, but he’d been crowbarring doors and wiping gunk off his head for quite awhile now so it was expected. He finished securing an elastic bandage around his head to hold the various clotting and packing bandages and stepped back to admire his handiwork before putting what was left back into the kit and stuffing it in his bag and stumbling back outside into the waiting area. “Got one of those weird foil blankets in there?” The raccoon asked rubbing his arms. Yonath half sat and half fell down beside him and dug out the kit again, ripping open another package in it and unfurling a mylar blanket for them.
“I think my arms are gonna fall off after getting outta there, Jojo.” The taller youth was starting to sound as fatigued as he was. Yonath snorted, trying to clear the dust and debris from an area of floor to sleep on, “You ain’t climb up five floors wortha lift. Ag man, I passed out once I got up here, woke up fokkin’ hanging by ma bad leg. Is really a bad leg now, ya?”
“Maybe… you know… We should just stay here till they come get us.” The older boy said quietly, staring at the ground. “We’re only a few decks down, they may be here before we even wake up. We have food packs for a few days.” As he spoke the otter rose and wobbled over, the raccoon flopped backward, narrowing avoiding a small brown fist meekly batting the air where his shoulder at been.. The otter chuckled, “See, ya’in better shape then me. If I can keep goin’, so can you.” Yonath folded and rubbed his arms moving back to the spot he’d cleared off, “Just wish it wasn’t so fokkin’ cool down here.”
“You could turn on your comlet. I’m not really that cold so maybe you’re sick or something.” Ben prodded, referring to the small metal armbands they both wore. In another life they’d been everything from phone to laptop, now it would be an extremely limited resource for scanning everything from topography or injuries. The otter shook his head, “Nah, ain’t gonna go through the hull without power in the ship so we can’t contact dad. I ain’t hurt that bad either, would just waste the battery.” The raccoon considered it and nodded, shutting his own off as well before laying down and pulling half the blanket over him. Yonath flopped over as well huddling down next to his brother under the thin blanket, shivering most of the night.
“Night rudderbutt.”
“Night trashpanda.”
The otter shut his eyes and finally relaxed.
Part Four: Dark before DawnYonath woke up with a start, his head throbbed. He rolled over but his brother was gone. There was a moment of panic before he hear humming… then quiet singing. An old song popular on Kyzarie’s sister planet of Sibko, a wealth of odd culture of all kinds.
“Sousa kanashimi wo yasashisa ni, jibun rashisa wo chikara ni.
mayoi nagara demo ii aruki dashite… mou ikkai… mou ikkai...”The otter smiled lightly to himself. They’d been working on the song for their band to play when everything went south over a year ago. While they’d been separated and stranded a million miles from home he’d settled on a translation for it so the ship could understand it if they didn’t speak East Sibken dialects. He rubbed his swelling head under the bandage and sat up. Ben seemed to have gone through kit and gotten some food packs out with some water pouches. Still humming the tune… Yonath cleared his throat, it was dry and his voice cracked a lot but he managed to hit the right notes.
“Turn your tears and your sadness to kindness and faith,
and make your faults in-to your greatest strength.
It's okay to get lost along the way, you have to walk to run...
One more time…” The raccoon smirked, “One more time… ya. Hah, tears to sadness… wait kindness to faith? I think you’ve been listening to dad too much… er… that reminds me.” His face fell as he pointed to the dirt ridden side of the ship. “I… dunno how to say it. Er… over there.” There was a suddenly silence as his stomach pitted at the implication. Yonath wobbled to his feet and walked over to the dirt pile moving the torch around to look for something he dreaded finding. After a few minutes the torch caught a glint of metal, and a skull with two small rounded horns came into focus. He felt his mind swim again, eyes watering as he knelt down to look at the corpse. The last remnants of a light blue garment turned to dust when he touched them, slowly pulling a still partially shiny necklace up, the cross dangling in front him. “Sorry Yoyoball… I was singing so I didn’t think about it… We’re going to have to hold dad up after this. He’s not going to be ok.”
Yonath turned the crucifix over in his hand, it looked very old but still held some shine. He clenched his fist for a moment, then sniffed loudly and put the trinket on. “He.. must have been on the third deck when the ship crashed. There’s… sorta a way up to it here.” Yonath didn’t answer, stuffing the cross behind his jacket and running his light along the torn opening. It was about 20 feet above them above them but the hill of dirt seemed to be angled enough to climb. He walked back over and dug around in the medical kit, pulling out a few pill bottles and downing several kinds with the water pouch before speaking, “Gotta wait till those hit. Too fucked up.” The raccoon looked on empathetically, “Anti-inflams… yeah… good idea. Better eat something with those other ones though.”
Time passed and the two ate a prepacked ration. It was dry and tasted like salted cardboard, after a bit he could feel energy coming back and the medicine finally bringing the swelling down. He stood back up, a little easier this time, grumbling, “Still sweating but I’m cold, probably shock or something. Ja Benji, whack me if I start seeing fokken kak, ya?” The raccoon chuckled, “I need an excuse? You wanna talk to the walls go right ahead, heh.”
The climb up the dirt mound to the third deck was irritating, there was no way to keep from getting covered in filth as the loose dirt was next to impossible to climb. Though finally after what felt like hours he grabbed the broken metal of the third deck. Sudden he saw a hand reach down and grab his wrist, the raccoon had beaten him somehow. He weakly wrenched himself up with the last of his strength and rolled away from the edge panting and gasping, “Jesus fokken fok Benji, ya no help at all! Didn’t even feel like you were TRYING to pull me up.” He slowly caught his breath, realizing the older boy hadn’t said anything at all yet. He rolled his head over to look where he’d gone, Ben was standing quietly staring down towards the front of the ship, where the lift was. It didn’t long to see why, and the reason made his stomach turn over. Deck 3 was also called the Promenade, it held dozens of shops and stores of all kinds. Now, however, it only held dozens of skeletons of varying races and sizes that seemed to be clustered around the lift doors.
He rolled over, having to push himself to his knees with his already exhausted arms before he was able to stagger back to his feet. With a final few pants the now dirt covered otter wobbled to his older brother’s side and stared at the gruesome sight. A pile of bones and debris, it looked like they’d been trying to get into the lift. Yonath suddenly remember what he saw from the bottom of the lift. “Lift is jammed into the maintenance shaft, door’s likely broke and the whole thing is in sy moer in. They… couldn’t get out, but… if they survived the crash...”
The raccoon finally spoke, “They… starved to death trying to get out.”
Yonath blinked and ran a light over the bead bodies of people he likely had known for years… now unrecognizable. “If they’d been down here this long…” There was a flicker in his mind, a moment of clarity, he reached down and turned the comlet on before setting it calibrate. “Stupid thing should adjust for time based on the readings of the… ship...”
The otters pupil dilated staring at the small holographic readout. Ben moved to look over his shoulder at the date.
3-66-2017The otter sputtered over his words, “Two…. two thou…. What?” The raccoon gave an interested “Huh” before adding, “It’s grandma’s birthday.” Yony slowly rotated his bandaged head to stare at his brother in a stupor for a moment before yelping, “Ya stupid trashmunchin’ idiot, it says its 2017. That is like 900 fokken years off!” The lanky youth stepped back and looked thoughtful, “Well, I mean, the Barrier had temporal energy and Little Goat being temporal and stuff… Maybe I just don’t age or something.” The otter put a hand to his head and rubbed his uninjured temple, “Dammit stop being dumb, you still had ta eat and you’d KNOW if you spent 900 years in a med ward.” Ben shrugged, “I got no clue bro, maybe the barrier just happened to like time jump me or something, you know I dunno how that crap works.”
Yonath turned the comlet off before meekly threw his arms up and walking to the air vent, “It’s just fokked is all, stop with the time jumpin’ talk and let’s get outta here. I’m not letting dad hear about… well dad from some asshole. We only got two more decks to get passed.” The raccoon shrugged again and followed him as Yonath used the prybar to wrench loose the hatch. “Gettin good at this kak, ja? Haha. Ready for some climbin’?” Ben wrinkled his nose, “Lucky I’m still skinny enough to fit into these darn things.” The otter smirked and started tying a rope to his prybar. “What… are you doing?” Ben mused raising an eyebrow. Yonath finished tying the other end of the rope to his backpack before moving the backpack to his chest. “Other end of this will have another vent we gotta break out. This way I can just drag the fokkin’ thing with us instead of havin’ to carry the bladdie thing.”
The pair vanished into the maze of ventilation ducts in the ship, the constant metal and metal scraping of the bar behind them. It was another stroke of luck as the top three decks of the ship contained the ‘habitation’ parts of the ship, this was the primary haunt for Yonath and his other young friends seeking to escape the eyes of the other crew and Warden Knights. The Living quarters ranged from small military rooms to the two story Underwood Estate he and Ben had lived in with their family and friends. Yony stopped and started fumbling around in the pack… they could stop for a bit to rest and see what they could salvage from the Estate. “Aweh, wonder if my dagga made it… We could just...” “Jeez, really Yony? Your stupid drug stash? We just saw half the ship’s corpses including our other dad and you’re thinking about that!?” The raccoon snapped, catching up behind him. Yonath growled right back, “Das why I want my shit, asshole. I can NOT deal with this shit much longer, iz like a fokken nightmare.” He paused for a moment and took out another water pouch and the pills again, “Fine… fokkit… we’ll just fokken come back and swipe it while they’re cleaning up the mess. Lemme take this shit for ma fokken ‘ead and we can hol.”
As they climbed the vent to the first deck the older boy called up quietly, “Sorry Jojo, it’s just...” The otter sighed to himself keeping his pace and talking backward, “It’s not a thing, just keep moving, can argue once we are outta this kakhuis.”
It took just over an hour or so for them to move through the military quarters of the first deck the otter picking up speed the whole time. The combination of constant medication and muscle memory of the area nearly tripling his speed. The annoying scraping the prybar behind him was now just a tuned out background noise. The otter called back, “Yo Ben! Meds working their magic! Keep up! We are almost there. Ha! They are going to be so freaked out when we hit the bridge!” He powered ahead, even if Ben fell behind he could always come back and drag him along once he’d alerted the rescue parties to their presence.
Another corner, a rush of air, it was so close now. He fumbled in the tight vent and flopped onto his face. The boy winced as a pain shot through his body from fatigue, his arms and legs felt like jello but the cold sweat had stopped entirely, the fog over his brain burning away.
A few minutes went by, fresh air was now filling his lungs, clearing many of the cobwebs that had been infesting his brain while in the tomb of a starship. For a moment he forgot about his aching muscles and throbbing head. He even forgot the horrors of seeing his adopted father and friends decayed to old bones. There was light… after almost two days there was light… real light. He practically clawed his way through the last section of vent to the hatch, then dragged the bar up to him with the rope muttering, “Be listening to ya for fokken hours ya dikgat clankin piece of shit, time to be useful.”
The hatch fell loose with a little percussive maintenance from the prybar and the stocky little otter tumbled out in a ball onto soft soil. He rolled his back and stretched out with all limbs including his tail as far as they all would go, breathing a massive sigh of relief. He paused for a moment, then furrowed his brow. Ben had not come out of the vent.
He stood up and looked around, blinking the light of the day. The view around him sent his eyes to pinpoints, a wave of nausea and panic shook him to his core. The bridge glass was not just broken, or gone, but he realized he’d landed on dirt. Around him was a crater in the soil overgrown with plants of kinds, the canopy of a forest looming overhead. Barely any metal could be seen jutting out of the ground where the bridge of the Odyssey should have been.
“W-what.. What is… Ben..ji?”
He weakly looked at the empty vent, then slowly stood and dropped his pack, still looking around in abject horror before slowly crawling back inside the vent.
“BEN! Stop fokken around!”
There was no answer, then came the realization he hadn’t said anything for well over an hour. The youth started to shake, then took off angrily down the vent, “FOK YOU! BEN! GET BACK HERE!” Corner after corner there was nothing, he reach the drop they’d climbed to get between the decks and yelled down, “BEN SAY SOMETHIN’!” A creeping feeling began to fester in his brain, he used the cross junction to turn back around, waving the torch around down the drop.
But Ben had helped him up the dirt wall…
“Jesus fokken fok Benji, ya no help at all! Didn’t even feel like you were TRYING to pull me up.”
But he’d slept beside him…
Then remembered shivering all night long.
“FOK NO!” The yell rang out and echoed through the vents. The otter slid down the vertical vent and tore through the deck vents, bursting out of the Deck 3 hole he’d come in by in less than hour and frantically moving his torch around floor looking for tracks in the dust and dirt to follow. However as he ran his light towards the hole down to deck 4, there was only one set of footprints that had disturbed the years of dust.
He felt water starting to cloud his vision, he turned around stormed back up the vent in a quiet rage. By the time he reach the surface again night was falling, he weakly crawled out of the vent and lay next to his pack, unable to stop the tears. He didn’t want to go back to the medical deck, he knew what he’d find. He crawled over and put his head on his pack and trying to sleep.
Part 5: Demons RunThe otter opening still damp and blurry eyes as the sun began to shine through the canopy of the forest. He pulled himself to a sitting position and looked around, it was hard to believe the whole ship was buried. Odyssey was just a cavernous tomb now. He turned the comlet back on and stared at the date.
3-67-2017“Nex’ona six’y seven… Ta’thousand… seventeen.” He rolled the date off his tongue still trying to parse what he was seeing. It had been 1081 when he last saw the date. It was a matter of history that before mainstream acceptance of interspecies mating the Kydane lived extremely long lives but this… Even they wouldn’t have lived this long. He did the math in his head, it seemed his faculties were back, and may stay that way provided he kept the treatment going.
He considered that thought again, staring longingly at the vent. Maybe if he stopped taking the antibiotics and antiinflammatories… No. That was stupid, talking to hallucinations and ignoring the injury just for… He continued to stare at the vent, standing up and walking towards it before tripping over the backpack and being sent staggering to one side helplessly trying to regain balance and falling onto a lump of dirt.
“EINA!”
He cried up as something jabbed his rear like a spear. He flopped forward and landed on the ground, jumping up angrily and grabbing the prybar before beating the lump of dirt repeatedly. It felt… good. All the frustration of it was coming out, his arms already hurt but he just couldn’t stop. He couldn’t DO anything, it was all already over.
*WHAM* *WHAM* *WHAM* *WHAM* *WHAM* *WHUMP*The sound of something odd made him pause, panting for breath, something orangish brown had been revealed as he’d beaten the dirt away from what looked like a half destroyed chair of some kind.
*whump-whump*His hands went limp realizing what he was looking at, the prybar thumping to the ground. The otter staggered over and began clawing at the remaining dirt away to reveal a partially mangled skeleton still wearing a tattered auburn coat. The lapine shaped skull make the boy’s heart stop, even though at this point he’d known this was true, he uttered the word with complete defeat, “Dad?”
His eyes were dilated with shock, they moved from the dead rabbit’s skeleton to the coat. Even after a millennia the damned thing STILL would not rot away. Fear turned to utter rage, a wild kind of emerald sparkle welled up with the tears. The otter turned and snatch up the prybar again and tore into the coat with sheer feral rage stabbing and beating the ancient garment and screaming foreign obscene phrases and his voice gave out and his hands bled from the rusted metal bar.
Undaunted Yonath tossed the bloodstained bar aside and grabbed the coat, trying to tear it off the bones. Nothing he did damaged it, he pulled and yanked on the leather-like coat, straining as if it weighed too lift. Slowly, bit by bit, he was able to drag the garment off the remains. It fell with a loud thud. The boy glared at it for a few moments, then stormed over and opened the last two water pouches and drank both at once. He spend a few minutes cleaning the wounds on his hands and tending his head wound, all with an ugly scowl on his face. Suddenly a devilish grin came over his face, the water pouches did the job. With barely withstrained glee the young man pranced over to the coat, unzipped his pants, and let out a satisfied sigh of contentment as he relieved himself on it. Finishing with a shake and a spit, “Fok off, piece of fokken shit.”
He glanced back to the backpack, it’d fallen over when he’d tripped over it, a small brown keepsake box had fallen out. The otter’s eyes lit up.
Part 6: The Last WardenA day later some of the bridge looked to have been excavated in places that got the most light. A makeshift cord was attached to a Yony-less comlet and plugged into a cleaned up outlet in an excavated wall. Nearby three mounds of dirt sat with makeshift signs in some foreign language. Yonath was lying in the excavated chair from the previous day, though he’d used the thermal blanket to erect a sunshade over it and had a small fire going. The boy himself was sprawled out on the ground by the fire with an oddly content grin on his face, a sickly sweet smell hung in the air the peace was shaken by the crescendoing roar of a burning engine.
The boy giggled, “An’ I thought Benji was a bad pilot, hehe.” He was shook from his stupor by the VERY nearby explosion. He heard the obvious sounds of someone crashing through the underbrush as well as a yelp,"If anyone's in there, I'm here to help!" Suddenly realizing explosions and yelling meant other people the young man shook himself to a lucid state, adjusted his bandage, grabbed his comlet, snatched up a small white object, stuck it between is lips and stood up, peering over the crater wall and watch the woman trying valiant to open the crashed plane. He grunted to himself, “Kap-e' Nenxale.” Then glanced first at the makeshift graves… then the previously piss covered coat… then back at the woman.
There was a wrinkled nose pout that formed on the boy’s face, he glance through the three again, this time groaning loudly and jogging over to the coat, “Oh fok off Da I’m going...” He grabbed the coat, trying to wrench what looked like an absurdly heavy trenchcoat up off the ground but to no avail. He dropped it again and started to yelp at the grave, “SEE?! FOK OFF! I CAN’T LEARN WHAT’S NEVER SHOWN, DA!” He folded his arms glaring at the pile of dirt in defiance.
"Darn you, c'mon!"
The woman’s increasingly frustrated voice called out, making the boy’s ears fold down. He glanced over at the rusted prybar, his blood was still dried on one end of it from the previous day. He sucked in a breath and groaned loudly again, “Fer Foks Sake.” With a last frustrated look at the three marked piles of dirt the otter darted for the prybar and lept over the crater wall. Instantly forgetting his leg and landing with a profane cry and falling into a heap on the ground. The otter uttered a string of native profanities and picked up his belongings before taking off again.
Behind Taffy a small brown furred figure in a pink hoodie and tan shorts burst into the clearing wielding a rusty metal bar. He was half covered in dirt, his head, right leg, and both hands were covered in bloody bandages, underneath the filthy elastic bandage on his head was a mop of auburn hair mixed with dirt and dried blood. The boy was running as fast as he could toward the plane, though an obvious limp seemed to threaten to send him to the ground with every step.
