A New Home

Author: spillb2

Original Post: link

Even as a grav, Lorn had always loved ships. Whenever one burned through the skies, the steady roar of its Void Engine echoing through the atmosphere, he would look up from whatever he was doing to watch them pass, mesmerizing blue fire lighting the sky. As he grew up, he would convince his parents to let him accompany them to the Controlled District on business, so that he could see them up close.

Then he had received his great uncle’s Charter, and he’d had to educate himself quickly on all the details behind the dream. Most of his kin would likely have balked at the great piles of notes and research Lorn had needed to make his decision, but the thought of finally having a ship to call his own had driven him on. He’d studied designs, interviewed other captains, and considered contingencies before finally settling on a venerable Galtak Freighter as his first ship. Its heavy cargo holds had offset its weaker defenses in his mind: after all, he was a merchant. It wasn’t his job to fight anyone. He’d been so proud, standing on a balcony, overseeing the final preparations for his new ship.

Now… now as he stood on a different balcony, on a different world, watching the Eternal Song being inspected for the last time, he felt a strange sense of loss.

It all made sense on paper. He had bought the Cautela Titan that now bore the name Manor of Stars a little more than two years ago for an amount that would slag the minds of most gravs, payed millions more to turn the already impressive ship into a true bulk freighter. With more than double the cargo space of the old Galtak, much heavier armor and weapons fit for the increasingly tense galaxy and his place in it, and an engine that actually wasn’t that much slower, the Manor of Stars was in almost every way superior to the Eternal Song. With his web of contacts who had their fingers on the pulse of rare resources, he was now in a position to make an even more vast fortune than he had ever dreamed before. It even had that new-ship smell: on the scale Star Traders thought in, two years was still hot off the press. So why did he feel so conflicted?

“Captain Forrest?” Lorn looked up to see the foreman walking over to offer him a data screen. “Final checkouts are complete and your payment has been transferred.” Scrolling through the facts and figures, his practiced eye noting every credit that went one way or another, Lorn nodded even as the merchant’s mask formed on his face. Everything seemed to be in order.

However, when the moment came to put his thumb on the combined print/bio scanner, he hesitated. That would be the end of it: the Eternal Song would no longer be his.

The foreman laughed kindly as the pause lengthened. “It’s alright, Star Trader,” he said. “You are far from the first captain who hasn’t wanted to let their girl go.” Lorn glanced up at him, causing the foreman to laugh again. “I may be a grav, but I’ve worked with ships so long that I could probably make a good case for dual citizenship between land and stars. I know how attached people get to their ships. They’re your lifelines, your first and last line of defense against the uncaring Void. You’d be crazy if you didn’t love them.” Taking back the data screen, he turned. “Go ahead, take as long as you need to say goodbye.” With that, he walked off towards his office.

Looking back out the screen, Lorn thought over the foreman’s words and realized that he was right. The Eternal Song had been his home for more than three decades. Lorn’d had far more triumphs and tribulations within the embrace of her hull than he could possibly count. Completing his first big sale, watching his first crew member die, that whole mess with Val, Elsa, Vytautas, too many pirates and hunters to count, even a few xeno… so much had happened on that old, tired looking ship.

As Lorn stared, memories of an old story his great uncle had told him on the one occasion he’d met the man in person drifted through his mind. It had been a story from the Exodus, a story told not through the eyes of the humans that lived and worked aboard the massive colony hives but through the eyes of the ships themselves. Every one of the vessels in the little splinter fleet had had its own silent voice, its own unsung story, its own intangible spirit that carried it onwards. Lorn found himself wondering if the Eternal Song had such a spirit, whether some echo of the deeds that had been done through her would linger on in her frame.

A dull rumble echoed, and Lorn looked up to see another ship lifting off: a Palace Interceptor. It seemed almost slow as its maneuvering jets and lift thrusters carried it up to a safe altitude, though intellectually he knew it had to be going pretty fast. Then it seemed to hang in the air for an infinite moment before finally, on the unheard command of its captain, it lit its mighty Void Engine. The vessel shrieked as it shot towards the sky, the stars beyond, and its destiny.

Blinking the afterimages out of his eyes, Lorn watched the ship vanish into the clouds. “Shalun be with you,” he found himself whispering as the last of the glow faded. He wondered if that was the first ship the captain had helmed, or if they too had given up an older vessel to join with the new. Looking back at the Eternal Song, Lorn placed a hand on the glass.

“Goodbye.”

It was probably just his imagination, but as he turned to walk to the foreman’s office, Lorn could have sworn that he heard a tiny voice whisper “Goodbye,” right back to him.

…

Two days later, Lorn settled behind the desk of his new office aboard the Manor of Stars. They were on their way, cargo hold packed to overflowing. They had exited the system, and were now safe in FTL. Finally, he could relax.

On his way back from the hanger where he’d left the Eternal Song, Lorn had stopped by one of the countless little shops that sprang up in the Controlled District of a Star Trader planet. While there, he’d purchased a box, a box that had waited in his office until now.

Opening it up, Lorn looked down at the countless metal and plastic spurs, pieces and shapes that would one day be a complete model of a Galtak Freighter. Whistling, he pulled out the instructions and got to work.

See also: The Choice