Five – A Sci-Fi Short Story – Chapter 1

Jan 13, 2025 · 18 min read · 0 views

QUERY RESULT: Erians (n., species, sentient)

—

Erians are a bi-pedal, sentient species classified as a minor race within the X’ieran Trade Federation sector. Native to the modest, resource-rich planet Eria, their species has long been associated with the production of Xenofungi, a biological commodity of considerable value in interstellar terraforming markets. Eria’s designation as a “legacy hub” reflects its historical prominence in this trade, though modern terraforming efficiencies have relegated the planet to secondary importance.

Physiologically, Erians are diminutive in stature, seldom exceeding 1.2 standard galactic units in height. Their anatomy is characterized by sparse patches of hair, an olfactory output often described as “intense and musky,” and foreheads notably compressed compared to X’ieran appearance. Their cognitive capacity is regarded as modest, their problem-solving aptitude and processing speed placed at the lower percentile of sentient species within the Federation.

Of particular interest to xenobiologists is the Erians' striking resemblance to the Arborepitheci–furry arboreal creatures indigenous to X’ieranox Five, colloquially referred to as “hangers”—. The similarity, however, is confirmed to be entirely coincidental, the result of convergent evolutionary pressures rather than any shared lineage. The Erians themselves exhibit a dismissive, frequently aggressive, attitude toward such comparisons, which are more often the subject of interstellar ridicule and prejudice than serious inquiry.

While their uncontrolled temper, intellectual limitations and peculiar biology have limited their cultural and political influence, Erians are widely regarded as dependable contributors to the galactic economy, if not particularly ambitious participants in its greater sociopolitical landscape.

—

Chapter 1: The Rig

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM TIO, VOICE.

"Ash… you up? Check in, Ash."

"Yea, what up Tio."

"We finally got our slot in the queue–time to run the final checks. You said you wanted to learn this shit, so get up here. I am not doing it twice."

"Yes… okay. Gimme a sec."

"And Ash–"

"Yea?"

“You brushed up on native history, right? Your mother’s introducing you to your family elders. Don’t screw this up.”

“Sure. Topmost expert.”

"You read the books she gave you?"

"Sure…" she said a bit too slowly.

"Ash, she said read them.This is important to her…"

Ash lowered the volume. The next words were clear to her anyhow.

Tio's voice still echoed in her head "Read the books"

Like he ever opened one since leaving trade school. Patronizing Tio as usual.

Her frustration flared again—fiery, quick, and familiar. Classic Erian temperament. Hanger-anger. She has to keep it in check at the station. X'ierans, they don't like that.

A kick below her mirror flipped the sink out. Should she do her second shower now? She’s too lazy for it, and Tio wouldn't notice nor care. He barely leaves his pilot chair on a good day. Frequently even sleeps at it. It's so bad everyone else avoids “his” chair. He might be the best pilot they had, but people like him were also the reason for the bad stereotypes about spacer Erians: noise first, smell second, face hopefully never.

Ash stepped out, climbed up the stairs towards the control cockpit of Lucid, her mother's ship.

The walls of Lucid were vibrant with their mosaic patterns—bright, intricate, some hand-painted, most 3D printed. Her mother, who spent hours on this, called it tradition. She said it was how their people decorated their homes and temples – back on Eria that was.

Ash rolled her eyes at the thought. Her mother’s nostalgia for old Eria was endless, usually bigger the further they travelled out, and usually factually wrong.

"The most important tribe", she'd say. "The strongest economy, the best ships, the brightest scientists, upper class, all the other tribes looked up to them." And somehow all old Erian people said this about their own tribe.

Ash didn't care. She didn't believe in the old gods on the walls like her mother prays to. Didn't care much for the stories they told each other to make them feel good about their lot in life. Didn’t need the homeworld either. Her family was travelling traders, better off than most.

At the top of the stairs, Ash paused for a breath to get out of her head, then stepped into the cockpit, head high. Pilot time..

"Hey Tio"

"Ha! Ash! Strap in, get ready hija. Queue moving faster than usual. We got a lucky break. Someone finally got active and gave us a slot."

Ash sighed. Four days flying in circles for a spot in the line, not even allowing them to get out of the rotation to allow her practicing piloting, and now they were rushing? Even with a faster queue, they’d still be waiting half a day—longer if some non-Erian ship cut in.

The displays hummed with data: vectors, velocities, the rig they were headed for. Dozens of ships lined up from multiple angles, their paths weaving in from every direction into one huge knot of trajectory paths. And the split point in the middle of it. The split point, the gateway to the Erian system, and next to it, the massive rig, ready to provide energy for your split.

But Tio was right. Their sequence number blinked on-screen. They were in. Finally.

All split points were slow, but the Erian one was the worst.

Maybe Tio was right to push. The Erian system ran tighter procedures. No room for error if one spot in space controls all traffic into the Erian system.

Ash settled into her seat and started the checklist. This part didn’t suck. No physical pain involved, unless you counted admin work as pain like Tio did. Just routine paperwork, great time to prove her worth as future co-pilot. Everything was on track.

For now.

"How come we suddenly got a slot? No one who bribed more? No fancy high-race ship demanding special treatment anymore? The Erian split point now even serving Erians? What’s happening to this sector?!"

Tio giggled and shrugged from the pilot’s chair. "No idea, hija. Someone must’ve messed up procedures. Looks like they kicked another ship out and queued us in at random."

Ash leaned over the console, checking the displays.

Tio was right. A small ship–an old patched-together Erian hauler–had veered off course near the split point. The hauler almost made it, before somehow botching it up. Whatever they did, it got them kicked out of the line.

Now the hauler was in trouble. They were moving out of the traffic knot to reroute.

That ship was screwed. They’d probably have to suck it up to the rig authorities, likely pay off someone, and pray for another slot. Not much else they could do here.

This was a halfway point, the middle of nowhere. It was split to the Erian system or bust. If they didn’t make it here, their choices were bleak: You either pray the other smaller rigs, days out, take you back to some other system, or you accept being stranded here in the void, begging for someone to take your crew and ship for parts.

Ash looked at her computer screen. Mapping the hauler’s path. While doing so she was trying to come up with a good joke to look cool in front of Tio. Something like “… geez they should have had a better co-pilot getting their paper work in order…” They were working together. How cool was that. Little Ash, once small enough to not even be allowed in this room. Now she was sitting in the co-pilot seat on a regular basis.

All of a sudden Ash’s stomach tightened. "Tio… Something’s weird. The hauler is not pulling away. Look.” She zoomed in on the main screen. ”They are rerouting, yeah, but not out of the knot. They are going for the rig.”

The hauler’s trajectory flashed on the screen, a clean curve leading right to the rig’s orbit.

Tio leaned forward a bit. "Oi oi oi. Maybe those hangers are pissed now, got fed up and wants to dock to punch it out instead of waiting." Tio giggled to himself.

Ash’s polite laugh didn’t leave her throat. Red lights started to blink on the screen just as the speakers crackled to life. A system broadcast from the rig overrode their speakers.

"ATTENTION ALL VESSELS: MAINTAIN FORMATION. ALL SEPARATIONS ARE SUSPENDED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. AWAIT DIRECTIVES TO RESUME OPERATIONS"

Ash’s stomach twisted.

"Tio, seriously… what is going on."

"No se, Ash. Maybe those hangers just lost it. Got mad about being kicked out, and now want trouble. They will reroute."

"Look at their acceleration."

Tio’s chuckle faded as he followed her gaze. Red notification text kept blinking. Objects in space don’t change quickly–the computer kept flagging the vehicle and its new speed. The hauler’s velocity was too fast, too deliberate, too direct.

Lucid was safe here, thousands of clicks away, just one of many dots in a colorful sea of specks, lines, orbits and trajectories on the system map. But that one dot wouldn’t stop blinking. The computer kept flagging its trajectory changes over and over, beeping every at every update, tracking its still increasing speed. Straight at the rig.

The rig–the golden gate to the Erian system. The most secure checkpoint in this sector. In the middle of countless trader ships paying for every hour of delay.

This kind of thing didn’t happen. Not here–not at a split point. Especially not at one to the Erian homeworld system. People died for less.

“Tio, we should…” but he was already ahead of her.

"Neha, come up here. We got a situation. Now, please." Tio removed his finger from his chair’s button.

Taking over the main screens could slow down Tio, so Ash slipped her glasses on instead. A few quick eye blinks brought up the system wide view. Navigate out. Overlay trajectories and velocities near the rig.

"Tio.” Her voice tightend a bit. “They are not alone. There’s another ship. Smaller. Ahead of them. Way way faster." She threw their track on the main display for Tio. "Path's in red."

"They are too fast. They won't be able to decelerate. What are they doing, Tio?"

"I don't think this…"

The door behind them slid open, and Neha walked in. Tio turned around with a nervous face. Before her mother could speak a word, a system broadcast started droning.

"ATTENTION ALL VESSELS: MAINTAIN FORMAT–"

The broadcast crackled. The signal stuttered and then cut mid-sentence. Another voice took over–energetic, urgent, female, and unmistakably Erian.

"THIS IS THE E.L.F. WARSHIP GUIN – ACCORDING TO TREATY X-21C WE ARE DECLARING THIS RIG FOR NON–"

A shrill screech tore through the speakers, startling Ash. The speakers switched to loud static noises, and ultimately died as Tio thankfully killed them off. Someone jammed the system comms. Likely the rig authorities.

"Ah dios. Shit.” Tio groaned nervously. “Erian Liberation Fucks."

Ash, glanced over "Here? At the split? Are they crazy? Should we ping them?"

"Ash, nobody will answer. At this velocity, they must have passed out already minutes ago. This was a recording." her mother said from behind her chair putting her hand on Ash’s shoulder..

"Why do they go for the rig? To ram it?” Ash tried giggling at her statement “Then what. Leave all us Erian ships fuc-“ realizing mid-swearing her mother was next to her… “stuck in the middle of nowhere while the rig shuts down?"

"Make a statement, I guess" her mother replied calmly, looking at the map. Almost too calmly.

"A statement for what? Being idiots?" Ash’s stuttered laugh turned bitter.

Her mother’s voice softened. "Being free."

Ash blinked her headset. She needed two tries to get the optic sensors into focus on the ships in her glasses display. The ships were tiny against the hulking rig. It looked like one of her old toys next to Lucid; the rig had easily thousands of times the mass of the approaching ship.

As she refocused her eyes she realized that mother already showed the same focus, but on the main screens. Feeling a bit silly she removed her glasses.

The split screens showed the ships, but the cameras struggled to keep them centered, jittering due to their speed and distance.

Then without warning, the smaller of the two ships split in two. And yet another new ship launched out of the main one. Moving fast.

The realization hit hard. Ash’s lips moved without a sound. Missiles–they are shooting at the rig with missiles.

Before she could say something, she noticed the screens already flagged the model number of the missile. Tio and Neha already knew. Maybe they hadn’t even thought there were multiple ships. Ash wondered if…

"Luis, get us out of this queue. Now." her mother was further away. Sitting in one of the chairs, locking in. And her tone. Ash knew that tone from her childhood. It meant only one thing: playtime is over.

Tio didn’t hesitate. Without asking why, he adjusted their vector out of the knot and heated up the engine. The computer screen beeped with updates.

It looked like multiple other ships started doing the same.

The new trajectory lines on the screen become one huge messy cord ball.

The ship’s klaxon sounded, followed by Neha’s voice over the ship’s speakers as she pressed her chair’s comms button:

"Everyone. Emergency acceleration. Strap in or lay flat! NOW!"

In the corner of her eye, Ash saw Tio closing his eyes, breathing out, reopening them. Tio pushed the ship's main engine to its max. Ash’s chair moved her legs slightly up and her back inclined. This would be relaxing, if they wouldn’t also be pressed into the chair by an invisible angry giant’s thumb.

Ash’s thoughts raced. “Why are we running?” They were thousands of clicks away. They would look suspicious. Also, they would need days to get the queue spot back. The rig could handle this–blast the missiles with defense guns, send ships, arrest the idiots, ship them off to forget, and move on. That’s how these things go. The rig wasn’t just a gatekeeper to Eria, it was a fortress. This was a fly harassing an elephant and the ELFs are dumb fucks if they don’t know this.

These and many other thoughts rushed through her head, all while breath left her lungs as the angry giant kept pushing even harder.

"Fuc…ki…ng elfs." Tio Luis’s voice was low. After a minute Lucid decelerated a bit, but still went hot by all standards. "Boss, I think we’re far enough. No dust should hit us here." The giant finally relaxed its thumb.

Neha didn’t respond right away. "We have no counters”, she said finally. “So keep going for a bit more."

Breath came back to Ash as she caught up with what was just said. "Dust?… You think they will open with cannons?"

All of a sudden Ash felt very much out of place in the co-pilot seat. Dust cannons were weapons of war. Real conflicts. Why was her mother sitting in the back seat? Ash was not meant for this. Should she get up, ask to switch places? At this acceleration she can’t.

"Ash, look at the trajectories. They could use point defense weapons to stop the missiles, but they can’t kill the velocity of the ship. And that close, they won’t risk any damage to the rig. They’ll just dust it."

While her mother said this, the screen lit up with another system message. No sound this time, Tio’s had muted the speakers.

"ALL SPLIT POINT ACTIVITY IS SUSPENDED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED TO LEAVE THE VICINITY IMMEDIATELY."

"Crap. Neha is right. They are not playing."

Ash knew what he meant. This was the kind of message trade federations sent, just to create enough legal papertrail, right before they did something that could end badly.

There was no delay. Neha pointed the camera at the rig. Its massive dust cannon began to glow, white-hot. The glow intensified, the camera adjusted, the camera–or maybe the cannon moved, and then silence.

For a moment, nothing happened. As if they all had forgotten about this.

Then the missiles disappeared into the background.

Not into the background…

Into the dust. A cloud of graphite-coated iron-nickel particles. Dark as the void, tiny, deadly.

Silence.

A few seconds later, on the other screen. The Erian Liberation Front ship’s nose began to glow in a faint yellow, then deep red.

Billions of tiny particles slammed into the same spot, eating through the ELF’s ship hull with impossible speed. Each one alone would not even leave a scratch. But together they made the ship glow, buckle and deform, tearing its structure away like paper in a cancerous wildfire. This was not like her action sim games. This felt different.

"Liberation front fucks melted. Liberate that, idiots." Tio's muttered words snapped Ash out of her trance.

Mother was still working. From the backseat. Ash was very conscious not to touch anything right now. Worried she might accidentally interfere with whatever her mother was doing.

The camera refocused onto a wider scene. The ELF ship was gone. Just gone. The cloud too. Cold and invisible again. The computer showed cone trajectories of the dust’s largest particle groups.

Lucid was in their paths. Moving as fast as possible to leave it. But still in it.

Neha kept rerunning the same simulation over and over. It was a wide cone.

Tio looked nervous, but excited. Like a kid that waited for its firecrackers to explode in a station corridor.

"I think we are safe here, Ash.” her mother said, adding her name almost like an afterthought.

“Here comes the stardust. In 3. 2.."

Before Tio finished the count the ship started making metallic sounds. Like her old shower in her bunk when it started. A light rumble. Then it was gone.

"Yea. We were far enough out, it spread wide enough. We will have a few smaller scratches at the logos. Nothing dangerous" Her mother said with complete calmness.

Three other dots on the map blinked. Erian ships, hit by the dust, in distress. Within a second one got reclassified by the computer to debris.

"Luis, please get us back into the queue before…"

Before Tio could reroute the system message changed again. Their screen was taken over by a message by the rig.

RETURN TO HOLDING ROTATION TRAJECTORY AND AWAIT FURTHER DIRECTIVES.

Neha didn’t look up. "They will board us. They’ll board everyone. Someone at the rig is going to lose their job over this and they will look for bodies to soften the fall.”

Her mother pressed the ship-wide speech button. "Xax, Ellie, Chris–visitors incoming. Likely armed Yusan forces. Make sure all is tidy. And Ellie, please come up, help me prep our licenses. They need to be airtight."

Ash was still sitting in the chair. The stress was over. Why was Ash still so cold? Why did her heart feel so small? She had flat breaths, struggling to adjust them. The cockpit felt small–the screens too hectic. The dust… stardust as Tio called it… was too close. This could have turned out bad.

Something slowly came to Ash… There were people on the ship trying to ram the rig, there were people on the other ships hit by the dust. Erians. Just like her and her family. They all just died. How can her mother stay so calm.

"Ash… are you listening?"

Ash blinked at her mother. Her mother was standing next to her, apparently talking. Before Ash could even pretend she heard her, her mother continued in a gentle voice…

"Are you ok Ash?” Ash nodded

“I need you to check on Nai-Nai. The acceleration was rough, make sure she is ok and didn’t get hurt. Get her into her bunk; see if she needs anything; make sure she cleans up–we might need her"

"Of course”, Ash mumbled.

Ash tried getting up. The straps were still on and she instantly got pulled back into her chair. The second try, after fumbling the unbuckling, worked better. She got out, shaky as she held herself at the chair. She felt light-headed. But it was good to move.

She left the cockpit, gripping the stair rail for balance. For a moment, she thought about sliding down like she had done hundreds of times as a kid. This was not fun right now. She took the steps one at a time, her legs threatening to give out beneath her. Halfway down, she had to sit. Just for a second. Her chest felt tight. Her vision narrowed down. Her breaths came shallow and uneven.

Her eyes were tearing up. Between the mosaics of Lucid.

She didn’t want her mother and Tio Luis to hear her.

But before she could stop it, tears were streaming down her face.

She sat there, on the stairs, within the mosaics, below the images of their old gods Jesus and Shiva, crying.