999 OCTILLION SOULS, May 27, 2024
I FLIGHT
Start here:
Previous:
TRANSLATOR'S NOTE:The following information is derived from Information Seed 40 and received by the Gravitational Wave Observatory. I and AI performed a frequency analysis on it. IE edited certain parts to make them more 'readable'. (He might have overdone it.) Please feel free to comment.23
Legume pressed her ear against the cold metal door of the brig, straining to hear above the rhythmic thrum of the Ore Seeker's engines. Charlotte, her small hand clutching Legume's tightly, whimpered. This cramped cell, meant for unruly miners, suddenly felt like a tomb. Just kiloseconds ago, Legume had clung to hope, offering her nonexisting skills to the stoic Wugum captain. Now, the dream of a safe passage home seemed as distant as the faint glow of a distant Dyson swarm through the tiny, barred window.
A sudden tremor ran through the ship, rattling the cell door. Legume's breath hitched. It wasn't the usual shudder of the engines. This was different, a violent jolt followed by a grinding screech. Charlotte whimpered again, burying her face in Legume's shoulder.
From the dimly lit corridor outside, a low growl echoed. It wasn't the mechanical whirring of the ship. This was organic and guttural. Fear pricked at Legume's skin.
Another tremor, stronger this time, and the lights flickered. Through the window, a new sight sent a fresh wave of terror through her. A sleek, crimson ship, studded with glowing spikes, had latched itself onto the Ore Seeker's hull like a monstrous leech—space pirates.
Shouts and blaster fire erupted from somewhere beyond the corridor. The Ore Seeker's heavy metallic groan, a sound of struggle, was a grim counterpoint to the pirates' guttural war cries. Legume's mind raced. Trapped in the brig, she was helpless to intervene, to protect her daughter.
A loud clang echoed through the corridor, followed by the shriek of tearing metal. Legume's heart hammered against her ribs. They were breaching the ship! Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the already dim view of the approaching darkness through the barred window.
Charlotte, sensing her mother's fear, whimpered again. Legume squeezed her hand. A desperate hope flickered within her. Maybe, just maybe, the chaos outside would be their only chance. As the sounds of battle raged closer, Legume knelt beside her daughter, whispering reassurances she barely believed herself. Mother and daughter huddled together in the confined space of the brig, a fragile island of love amidst the storm of violence raging outside.
24
LATE 2060s
The cobbled-together avatar felt alien, a clunky puppet housing Trillian's disembodied consciousness. After Ascending, existing as pure thought had been isolating. This patchwork of scavenged tech and bio-components, however, offered a bittersweet return to the physical world.
cap_mal: the St. Trillian?
translator: the same
Today's target: Jupiter. The gas giant hung in the viewscreen, a swirling ochre and crimson tapestry. With a thought, Trillian willed a Wavej wormhole into existence, a tear in the fabric of space. A phantom sensation, a vestige of her former body, lurched in her gut as the avatar traversed the wormhole, the familiar rush of displacement washing over her.
de_tech_G: damn fantasy mode again
Emerging on the other side, she found herself nestled within Jupiter's swirling storm clouds. The tempest roared, a concerto to Trillian's newly awakened senses. Dipping the avatar lower, she brought the viewport flush with the swirling ammonia-laced clouds, their texture almost tangible through the avatar's enhanced perception.
A colossal lightning bolt erupted, a jagged white scar against the crimson backdrop. Trillian pulled back, the avatar shuddering under the sudden energy burst. The raw power of the storm was exhilarating, a stark contrast to the silence of the part of interstellar space where she spent her disembodied existence.
Exploration wasn't just about thrills, though. Another thought and Trillian wove a temporary network of smaller Wavej wormholes, tendrils reaching out towards Jupiter's moons. Data streamed, a torrent of information about composition, atmospheres, and magnetic fields flooding her consciousness. The thrill of discovery, of pushing the boundaries of her abilities, was a forgotten pleasure she savored.
As the Jovian day waned, casting long shadows across the swirling clouds, a pang of nostalgia struck. Sunsets used to be her favorite time back on Earth. Here, amidst Jupiter's alien light, the feeling was different, a bittersweet yearning for a life she could no longer fully inhabit.
With a final, lingering look at the storm-wracked giant, Trillian willed the network of Wavej wormholes shut. The familiar rush of displacement returned, and she was back in interstellar space, the avatar feeling cumbersome once more. But within her, the echoes of the storm, the data from the moons, and the bittersweet pang of nostalgia swirled – a reminder of the infinity of the universe and the wonders she could still explore, one Wavej wormhole at a time.
“What’s up, Tril?” the Computer asked through a Wavej wormhole Trillian had given him after endless nagging from the Computer.
“I miss Earth.”
“You can always send your avatar to Earth.”
“I can, but it’s pointless. Seeing Earth through wormholes or the avatar is not the same…”
The Computer sighed. “That life’s gone, I’m afraid. But people worship you like a goddess.”
“Huh…I never asked for that.”
“You stopped a world war, T. You erased crime, poverty, and violence from Earth.”
“For now. The HiDimBes and their allies will be back.”
“Can they kill you?”
“I have no physical body. How will they do that?”
uk_gwo5: fantasy weapons
“You have…something. The particles just decay and reappear over and over.”
“Or so you suspect,” Trillian said.
us_gwo: wormhole particles