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Futuristic The Black Divide (Paused)

“Okay, okay, let’s all chill out,” I say, noting too late that my casual tone probably isn’t giving Victor the best impression. Then again, it’s not the first time he’s witnessed my informality. “We’re going to meet with the Children of the Nova,” I tell everyone, emphasis on their true name rather than the skeptical title of cult. It’s a warning aimed at Victor that I’m not sure makes it mark, but he’ll learn eventually that intolerance is not welcome on my ship.

”Tight schedule or not, I’ve planned for stops like these, so it’ll be fine,” I reassure him. I’ve always enjoyed the journey more than the destination, even though that’s when I get paid and am able to replenish my stock of sugary sweets, so I’m careful in my planning to make sure I have enough time for pleasantries such as this. It’s just a bonus that one of these stops ended up being the Children of the Nova.
 
Eira and Oscar find the star map and route overlay on the galley screen, and point out the three-day window for the Children of the Nova that you've already factored in. You like to plan ahead, thankfully. Victor examines your route with a sour expression, but at least he shuts up.

--

Over the comms, Deacon of the Children of the Nova is deep-voiced, rasping, warm and happy. He tells you that their chef, Tenzo, will make food for a group meal, and that his second, Devadasi, will send through a list of their offerings.

"We will meet in your morning," he says.

--

Victor stands in the kitchen with his fingertips resting lightly on the countertop.

"I'm disappointed," he says softly, and comes over to the table.

Roshan snorts in disgust and slides off his chair, grabbing Dylan's lapel and dragging him along. "You're a corporate tool," he spits, and stands up. Shiori gently winds her arm around Dylan's shoulders. Dylan's just staring at the floor.

Victor never even turned his attention to them. He's still watching you. "You have made an unwise choice."

There's a beat of silence while Roshan, Shiori and Dylan leave, a breath held in, then Oscar slowly gets to his feet. "Sir, you need to back off. The Captain knows what she is doing, and you are a guest here."

Victor doesn't even glance Oscar's way. "Zyrina, this is not what my company is paying you for."

"Your contract commands nothing!" Oscar slams a hand down on the tabletop. "If you had such an investment in how my captain does her job you should have stipulated beforehand. Why didn't you? Oh, that's right: she would never have agreed to this!"

A beat. Eira's face is focused with nerves as Victor draws back his shoulders to escalate the situation. It's up to you to defuse the conflict.

- Defend yourself.
- Tell Oscar to back off.
- Try calming them both down.
 
"I look forward to it," I tell him, eager to see the Children of the Nova again and grateful for their offerings after the lost of resources to Salvatore's crew.

Kindness begets kindness, I always say, even in roundabout ways.

---

I throw my hands up on a placating manner and stand between them, hoping to break the tension somehow. "Victor is a guest and so we should remain civil," I remind Oscar, before looking to the man in question, "although, the kitchen is not the place for this discussion. We can speak in your quarters—erm, office—or mine, whichever you prefer."

I gesture for Victor to follow me into the hallway.
 
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Oscar sucks a breath in sharply, his shoulders slumping with disappointment. "I understand, Captain. I'll go to my shift."

"Normally you back us up like we back you up," Eira murmurs, too quiet for Victor to hear, and follows after Oscar.

"At least your crew is mildly entertaining," Victor muses to himself. "No need to speak further, Captain."

Victor leaves without actually fetching himself anything to eat.

Once you're done in the galley, you can finally turn in to your cabin for the night, the external sensor's grainy picture of the Novae's sailship on your personal screen. Even with the low resolution, the unfurled photon sails glimmer with starlight.

--

First thing in the morning, Oscar meets you at your cabin door at the end of his shift, with rumpled hair and a question from the Children of the Nova: do you want to visit them, or shall they come to the Eleos?

- Decide.
 
Guilt gnaws at me upon hearing Eira's comment, because she's right; I don't think I've ever chastised my team in front of a client before. However, and I won't say this out loud, especially in front of Victor, I stepped in mostly to spare him the barrage of hostility coming in every direction.

I feel bad for Victor, surrounded by those who think so low of him, but I also understand my crew's distaste.

Then he opens his mouth to make yet another comment about my crew. The guilt intensifies as he leaves before I can make amends, and I regret having tried to help him.

---

There are bags under my eyes and my skin feels dull from lack of sleep, but excitement has me awake. Today, we meet with the Children of the Nova!

"Their ship," I say immediately, "definitely their ship. I don't want Victor around to insult them." The statement slows my hand mid-brush of my hair, which had grown tangled from forgetting to take my braids out prior to bed. "Speaking of... I'm sorry, Oscar. I should have had your back yesterday with Victor."
 
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Oscar's eyes warm, and he nods. "Thank you, Captain, but don't worry about it." He then adds, "I'll let them know. You go ahead and get yourself ready, I'll handle everything up to the airlock."

He's ambled down the corridor, leaving you to your preparations, when Shiori contacts you over the comms.

"Can I join you with the Novae?" she asks. "Please? I'm interested from a sociological perspective. It's so interesting how they think the Black has a will of its own, let alone respecting it and following it to the exclusion of their own will, and I'd be really interested to see how they unify those beliefs with the, well, data about travel hazards and such…"

Her voice trails off from passion to uncertainty, the comm line crackling faintly as she waits for your response.

- Answer.
 
I smile after him, attention torn away only when Shiori’s voice rings through the comms. “Oh, sure thing,” I tell her, confident Shiori means well by her interest. Plus, she’s not the only one curious about their beliefs; I’ll probably pick her brain at some point, the topic great for discussion.

”We’ll meet up and head over together,” I say, wincing at the tug of a particularly troublesome knot. After that, though, prepping for the meet-and-greet goes smoothly.
 
"Thank you!" Shiori says, and you can hear the bright smile she must be wearing. "This is great, I'm going to annotate the psychological profile released by the WHO and send it through for peer review!"

Shiori signs off, leaving you to get your day started: checking in with Eira, who's keeping an eye on engineering while Roshan takes advantage of the break to catch up on sleep; catching breakfast, responding to communications from T-PES and other ships.

When the time comes, you head to the airlock to board their sailship to work out what trading or celebrating you'll want to do. Shiori joins you, quietly vibrating with excitement. You wait for Eira to signal that the airlocks have connected, and step through, going through the decon procedures and transferring to their airlock.

galan-pang-0909ship-concept01.jpg

The sailship smells strongly of tinny metal and incense, and the corridors are low-ceilinged and claustrophobic: Deacon has to stoop to greet you.

The Children of the Nova themselves dress all in black: Deacon in robes, the others in a mishmash of clothes obviously collected from different places across the system.

b1e3ccd598fa2088b26352d47f321231.jpg

Deacon steps forward, tall and dark. He's skinnier as he seems as he draws you into an intimate hug. Of course this captain calls himself Deacon, even though you've met others before; it's a title, and an identity, rather than a name.

He introduces his companions: Rishi with her intricate tattoos, and Ovate, whose hair and beard are grey-white and tangled.

You take a moment to notice that none of them look particularly healthy. Ovate's hair seems to be falling out and both of them have rashes on their necks and hands.

Shiori tugs on your sleeve to get you further away from them and she glance up at the low ceiling, around the walls and floor, as if looking for something.

"Right," Deacon says in his low, rasping voice, and now that there's no comms static you realise he's hoarse. He coughs wetly, blood on his hand when he lowers it from his mouth. "Apologies for our health. Don't worry about it, it's all under the Black. What would the Novae do for the Eleos today?"

- Tell Shiori to look at them.
- Examine them yourself.
- Trade.
- Have dinner together.
- Ask for supplies.
 
I welcome Deacon's hug, only noticing something is off after the embrace. He's thinner than I anticipated and when he speaks, it's a wet, hoarse sound compared to the masculine rasp I thought I'd heard over the communicator. Encountering another sickness so soon after seeing what damage Salvatore's crew suffered has me on edge.

"I—" I stop, unsure of whether to ask for supplies or propose a dinner, as I'd planned. Then an idea hits me: "Would you be interested in supplies in exchange for a check-up or first aid, for you and your crew? Consider it a trade between two ships eager to help others." If they say yes, I'd look to Shiori for her medical expertise.
 
Deacon takes you to an observation room, where the flexiglass shows the Big Black, slowly turning starfield, and a sliver of your own ship in the corner, and discuss what you can give, and what you need. The Children of the Nova are as generous as you would expect them to be. You make a deal, but it's a long and arduous conversation.

It's a couple of hours to sort out. When you're done, Deacon stands up, pauses, and his skin turns sallow, his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses to the floor with frothy blood leaking from the side of his mouth. Shiori will need to do a medical examination. You step back from Deacon's twitching form.

The diagnosis is clear: it's acute radiation poisoning, and the whole crew are suffering. You realise, with a sinking sensation of dread, that you need to get off their ship.

Shiori plucks at your sleeve, murmuring, "I think it might be lethal for them - Zyrina, I didn't realise we'd be in such danger - we need to talk in the medbay. Now."

- Stay calm.
- Panic.
 
"Oh Gods—" I start to panic when Deacon collapses, but Shiori's presence grounds me enough to gather my wits. At least, temporarily. I can feel the panic rising as we discuss the diagnosis—fear for both myself, Shiori, and the Children of the Nova. Still, I nod and follow Shiori to the medbay, careful not to touch anything.

Even with the anxiety creeping up my spine, I am still the captain. Shiori might have medical expertise but I'm supposed to be her leader, someone reliable she can lean on. I can't lose my cool. This kind of stuff happens all the time in space, right?

Right.

Calm. Calm. I remain calm for Shiori, even if my insides twist with panic.
 
Shiori has you strip your clothes off and throws them in a biohazard bag, along with her own - she's already changed and scrubbed down. After decontaminating you, when she runs a radiation counter over your bare skin, it clicks wildly, and Shiori bites her lip.

"You shouldn't have stayed over there. I shouldn't have let you stay. Lie down, I need to treat you, then I can sort myself out too."

- Answer.
- Stay silent and listen to her.
- Something else.
 
My heart drops at the sound of the radiation counter. Had I not brought Shiori, what would I do? Would I still be over there trying to help, only realizing too late that it was radiation poisoning? I stay silent and listen to her instructions. She knows more about this than I do; obviously, since I'm the one who put us in danger.

No. Stop it. Stay calm.

Instead of berating myself for risking Shiori's health, I try looking at the bright side. Had I invited the Children of the Nova onto the Eleos, would they have infected more people? ...On the other hand, would the Eleos have sensed the radiation before it could spread?

I shut my eyes during treatment and try to distract myself with other thoughts.
 
Your crew arrive en masse while you still have just a medical gown protecting your dignity: Oscar passes you a bag from your quarters with spare clothes inside.

He stares at you blankly, eyes wide, and bites his lip. "Zyrina. Are you… okay? Shiori, is she okay?"

"She might feel a little sick for a couple of days, but no lasting damage," Shiori says without looking up from their store of medicinal supplies. "I'm giving prophylactic antibiotics and some anti-radiation medication. Zyrina, if you feel nauseous or vomit, that's normal, but if you have diarrhoea or a fever you need to tell me immediately."

You shiver under the harsh lighting and worried stares of your crew. You don't feel sick right now, not yet, anyway.

"Eira checked their navigation logs," Roshan says, matter-of-fact for once. "Solar winds took them right into the path of some micrometeors and took out their radiation shielding: sheared it right off. We're talking two hundred rads in a couple of days: a thousand times what they should be exposed to. They'll be dead in a couple of weeks at most."

The atmosphere in the medbay is silent, tense. Shiori shakes her head slowly, looking anguished.

Oscar looks over at you. "We can't let them die like that," he murmurs. He reaches out as if to touch you, hesitates, draws his hand back.

"You heard what Deacon said," Eira snaps. "This is the will of the Black, or whatever."

"We can salvage some spare parts from the Eleos to build them some makeshift shields," Roshan fires back. "We can give them medical attention. We're part of the Black too."

Dylan grimaces. "We could bring them on board?"

"They've already declined coming on board for treatment," Shiori says softly. "They won't abandon their ship wholesale, but we could ask them to let us treat them."

They pause, and look at each other, and then all to you at once.

- Respect the wishes of the Children and move on.
- Give them anti-radiation supplies and move on.
- Stay and repair their ship.
- Stay and treat them properly.
 
Bad news, bad news, and... more bad news. I run fingers through my hair and tug at the strands, willing answers to come. Do I risk my crew's safety for the Children of the Nova? Or do I leave them, knowing they will die, at the cost of ensuring the safety of the Eleos?

I can't leave them. My crew means the world to me, but the veterans know by now what I believe in and if they didn't agree, they wouldn't have followed me into space. They knew, save for maybe Dylan, what they were getting into.

"Roshan is right," I drop my hands to my side, "we're part of the Black, too. It might take us off schedule, but we'll stay and treat them properly." Though I address the crew as a whole, I'm mainly concerned about Eira when I say, "If you don't want to help, I won't make you, but I'll appreciate it if you do."
 
Dylan breaks into a dopey grin. Shiori gestures him and Oscar over, and they settle in the far corner of the medbay talking about medical supplies and treatment plans.

Eira sighs. "You know, this is going to take longer than you think. I hope you know what you're doing."

Shiori sends you to your room to rest, though rest is hard to come by when Victor copies you into communications with De Rege brass about an "unfortunate delay" in the journey.

- Ignore it.
- Message the company to reassure them.
- Message Victor.
 
I don't respond to Eira because I don't want to lie. I know little of medical treatments and radiation poisoning and ship shields. I have no idea how long this will take or what the consequences will be, but I can't just leave them to die when there's something I can do to help.

Upon dropping into my bed, my comms goes off. Victor. It's always Victor.

Would it kill him to leave me alone for two seconds!?

Before I blow up in front of my client and his company, I roll over, pillow slung over my head, and opt to ignore it.
 
You don't even hear from the De Rege family themselves, just their assistants asking for regular updates on your ship's progress. Easy to dismiss.

Shiori gets to work with the sailship's medics, using antibiotic treatments, anti-radiation medication and nutrient replacement to help the crew. You hear from Oscar that Roshan's putting himself to use too, talking to their engineers and installing scrap metal from the Eleos to replace what the sailship's lost.

While your crew are working hard, Shiori commands that you rest. "I'll be resting too," she adds grimly. "But get in touch if you're worried, or if you have cramps or irregular movements for more than twelve hours."

It's a good thing, too: you wake up in the middle of the night with stomach cramps, you don't run a temperature so you don't bother Shiori, but it's unpleasant. It takes a couple of days for you to feel healthy again, during which time Oscar takes over the running of the ship, leaving you to heal.

--

Deacon finds you in the galley and he is looking a lot better. His eyes sparkle when he sees the powdered tea in your food cupboards.

"You know," he says quietly, your crew working elsewhere, "we can offer more than just supplies and celebration. Information is something we share freely amongst our kin, amongst other believers in the Black."

He sits at your galley table, pressing long, tapered fingers against the darkened screen. The ceiling lights reflect on the black to look a little like stars.

"You're a dreamer, like we are," he says softly. "What do you feel when you look out at the Black? What does it inspire within you?"

- Answer.
 
The process has taken longer than I'd like, and the symptoms from the radiation are uncomfortable, to say the least, but I don't regret anything when I see that the Children of the Nova are healing. I look up from my hands when Deacon sits at the table.

I nod in response and offer a small smile to fit the quiet of the room, though I don't know what information to ask for. Maybe something about T-PES, such as what happened to change their morals and how they can return to that higher calling. Or maybe information on my family that I left behind—specifically my sister. Is she doing well?

Instead, I find myself answering questions. Back on Venus, I was constantly surrounded by rules and regulations and... walls. There were a lot of places I wasn't allowed to go, even in my own home, but out here? "I feel... like me, I guess," I say. The real me. "Though some may try to stop me," I think of Victor when I say this, "I'm able to go where and do what I please, for the most part. I think I've helped more people venturing the Black than I would have ever been able to elsewhere."
 
Deacon listens to you, his eyes warm, his mouth curved into a small smile.

"You're not one of us, but you're still one of the Black's children. I am happy to help you. What do you want to know about? Who do you need to prepare yourself against?"

- Ask about the Solar Liberation Collective.
- Ask about T-PES.
- Ask about supply caches.
- Ask about the route ahead.
 
I return the smile, glad he seems to understand. "Do you know of any supply caches nearby or further along the route ahead?"

There are other things I would like to ask about, but the most pressing issue is our quickly dwindling inventory.
 
Deacon leans forward and taps a few commands onto the galley computer, loading your database with what you need.

"It may not be the gossip I'd love to give, but you're practical. You want to guide your crew through the Black. I admire that."

Your comms crackle. "Hey, Zyrina," Roshan says. "Slight hitch in the plans. A Dylan-shaped hitch."

- Answer.
 
A laugh escapes me, because I'd love to hear what gossip he has to tell. "Thank you, I appreciate your help," I say, "though, I'm all ears if you have any information on th—"

My comms crackle and my opportunity to better understand some of the other interstellar travelers escapes. Well, I tried. "I'm sorry, but if you'll excuse me," I dip my head to Deacon and rise from the table, thanking him once again before heading out of earshot.

Once I'm certain he can't hear me, I respond to Roshan, trying to sound pleasant. "Where would I find this Dylan-shaped hitch, and should I be mad?"
 
"So, you know the radiation shielding? I've done all the heavy-duty brain stuff, but some extraction work needs doing on the Eleos for spare bits. It's nothing special, but it needs some manual work and I'm not about to do it when there's a new guy knocking about the ship to do it for me."

Roshan clears his throat. "Long story short: Dylan's gone silent in the maintenance airlock. Internal readings show he's not gone out yet, so he must be just… sitting around. But I'm worried about him, I guess. Go check on him, I'm not his dad."

- Hurry, he could be in danger.
- Do it, but reluctantly.
- Leave it for later.
 
Thinking back to how I found him sitting around in cargo before looking sullen and sleep-deprived, I can't help but worry, though I try to remain level-headed. "Got it," I say, heading quite quickly towards the maintenance airlock, "thanks, Roshan."
 

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