Eliane and Jannali, were navigating the winding pathways back towards Vesta's spire, their arms laden with cloth bags bulging with produce. The air was filled with the fresh, green smell of cloud-kelp and the sweet perfume of the strange, humming fruits Eliane had insisted on.
"I still reckon you paid too much for those funky mushrooms," Jannali commented, shifting a bag to her other hip. "Bloke saw you coming a mile away."
"They have a very complex umami flavor profile!" Eliane retorted, her voice full of culinary certainty. "You can't put a price on foundational ingredients!"
They were so engrossed in their debate that they barely registered the two figures approaching them from the opposite direction. It was Nurse Payton and the dentist, Shane Peláez, walking with their hands tucked casually into their pockets. Their expressions were neutral, almost friendly.
"G'day," Jannali said absently, automatically shifting her weight to make room for them to pass in the narrow lane between two cloud-stone buildings.
It was a perfectly normal, courteous moment. Which made what happened next so profoundly jarring.
In a single, fluid motion that was over before the mind could properly register it, both Payton and Shane withdrew their hands from their pockets. There was no flash of metal, no dramatic flourish. Just a swift, practiced jab as they passed, a sudden, sharp pinch on Jannali's upper arm, and another on Eliane's.
Jannali spun around, more annoyed than alarmed, rubbing the irritated spot on her arm. "Hey, mate, what the…?"
The rest of the sentence dissolved into syrup. The world, which had been so sharp and clear—the gritty texture of the stone underfoot, the vibrant colors of the produce in her bag—suddenly smeared. The edges of her vision blurred as if someone had dragged a wet brush across a painting. A profound, leaden weakness flooded her legs, making them feel like overripe fruit.
She swayed on her feet, her bag of shopping dropping to the ground with a soft thud. Cloud-berries rolled away like colorful marbles. Her last, wobbly glance was for Eliane, who had also dropped her bags and was teetering, a small, confused frown on her face as a tiny, involuntary flame flickered and died on her shoulder.
Then, the world folded in on itself and went dark.
Shane and Payton, their faces now masks of grim purpose, rushed forward to catch the two slumping forms before they hit the ground. From the mouth of a nearby alley, Julian Sturm waved frantically for them to follow, his eyes darting up and down the empty lane. The entire, silent operation had taken less than ten seconds. The only witnesses were a few scattered, rolling fruits and the indifferent, ancient stone of the spires.
---
The door to Vesta's apartment groaned open, and Kuzan Aokiji ducked his head to step through the frame. He paused, his dark eyes doing a slow, comprehensive sweep of the scene. His gaze traveled over the walls papered with grinning skulls and vibrant pop stars, over the cramped space where Atlas's lynx form seemed to take up half the room, and finally landed on Vesta herself, standing proudly with her rainbow hair and the guitar in her arms, which was quietly shifting its tuning pegs with a mind of its own.
"Yo," he rumbled, his voice a low bass note in the room's chaotic symphony. A faint, tired smile touched his lips. "Nice place. Very… acoustically enthusiastic."
Galit, coiled near the window like a frustrated serpent, sighed. "Our options were severely limited."
Aokiji's chuckle was a soft, grinding sound. He glanced at Marya, who was leaning against the one clear wall, her expression a masterpiece of stoic endurance. "I can probably swing us some better digs. Old friend runs a tavern. It's a bit of a walk, though." He attempted to lower himself onto a small stool, thought better of it as it creaked in protest, and simply settled against the wall instead, sliding down into his characteristic slouch.
"We could use a good walk," Marya stated, her voice cutting through the stuffy air. The sentence was barely finished when a tower of empty instant noodle cups Jelly had been investigating chose that moment to surrender to gravity, clattering to the floor.
"Oopsie!" the blue jellyfish hybrid chimed, wobbling happily amidst the plastic debris.
Vesta's head snapped up, her eyes wide. "Does that mean you're leaving?"
Marya looked at her, a single, slow blink conveying volumes. "There is no way this small space can accommodate all of us."
Vesta's bottom lip began to tremble. Her dramatic flair was in full force. "But, but… I'm going with you!"
Marya let out a breath that was more a release of pressure than a sigh. "Just because we aren't staying in your tiny apartment doesn't mean we are leaving you behind."
Vesta sniffed, the storm clouds in her expression clearing instantly. "Really?"
"Really," Marya replied, her tone flat as stone.
Galit seized the moment to steer the conversation back to logistics. "You said you were from Lumenara."
The shift in Vesta was instantaneous. The sadness was forgotten, replaced by a brilliant, sunburst of a grin. "Oh, right! I am! My grandparents are on the council, but don't worry, I can totally help you!" She cocked her head, a cascade of rainbow strands falling over her shoulder. "But we're going to need a Chime Dial."
Aokiji, without looking up from his slouch, pulled a small, seashell-like object from his pocket. It had a subtle, internal shimmer. "Already taken care of."
Vesta clapped her hands together, her guitar giving a sympathetic strum. "Great! Then finding the current will be super easy!"
"Finding the current?" Galit asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to wrap his tactical mind around the concept.
"Oh yeah!" Vesta nodded, her enthusiasm boundless. "We'll have to catch the right rainbow current to get there! You can't just sail to Lumenara, you have to… ride the light."
Galit sighed, his long neck drooping slightly as he contemplated the physics of riding light.
Marya cut in, her curiosity piqued. "I assume it is similar to the rainbow bridges of Elbaph?"
Aokiji gave a lazy nod from his spot on the floor. "That's about right. Was told they're basically currents of light. Navigable if you've got the right gear and a death wish."
Marya nodded, turning her golden-ringed eyes back to Vesta. "I was told Lumenara was only visible at certain times."
Vesta looked genuinely confused, shaking her head so her hair swished. "I don't know anything about that. Maybe that's a Blue Sea thing? But to get there, we just need the right current." She beamed, then seemed to remember something crucial.
Marya's eyes narrowed, her gaze sharpening. "Why are you here, and not there?"
Vesta spun around, arms flung wide as if embracing an invisible audience. "Because it's my dream to go to the Blue Sea! And this," she declared, pointing dramatically at the floor, "is the closest sky island to the High Path! It's my launching pad to destiny!"
Aokiji let out another soft chuckle. "I take it she's catching a ride with us."
Galit groaned, massaging his temples. "You assumed correctly."
Pushing himself off the wall with a grunt, Aokiji stretched. "Well, if we start walking now, we can get to the tavern before it gets too late."
"We should wait for Jannali and Eliane," Atlas rumbled from his corner, tail flicking. "They went to get food."
Jelly bounced in place, his massive eyes shining. "Fizzy drinks!" he added, as if this were the most important part of the procurement mission.
The plan was set, but two of their crew were still out, hunting for supplies in a wounded city. The search for a comfortable tavern would have to wait for the search for their missing chef and their sharp-tongued scout.
*****
The silence that settled after the Typhon's death was deeper than the void itself, broken only by the faint, residual hum of energized armor and the rasp of Caden's breathing over the comms as he fought off the psychic aftershocks.
"Threat is neutralized," Caden reported, his voice strained. "Bianca, do you feel comfortable docking with the Mule?"
"Like, yeah, I can totally handle that," Bianca chirped from the pilot's chair, her fingers already dancing across the console with a confidence that belied her chaotic speech.
A boisterous laugh erupted over the channel. "You guys came along just in time!" Luke's voice was full of unchecked glee. "We were down to the fumes in our air tanks!"
"Luke!" Daniel Kamath's voice roared back, a sound of pure, unadulterated fury. "When I get my hands on you, I'll—"
"Hey, Mr. Grumpy!" Bianca interjected, cutting through the impending tirade. "You like, prepared for us to dock, or what?"
"Proceed!" Daniel snapped, the word cracking like a whip.
Evander's calm, noble tone smoothed over the friction. "We will maintain a perimeter. Scanners are clear, but it pays to be vigilant."
In the cockpit, Charlie adjusted his pith helmet. "Ahem. It appears we may be becoming involved with individuals of a… notably hostile disposition."
Kuro didn't even look at him, his gaze fixed on the looming, damaged hull of the Stubborn Mule. "How perceptive of you," he murmured, the words dripping with condescension. "Stating the obvious is a rare talent."
Without a word, Aurélie rose from her seat, her movements as fluid and silent as a shadow. "I will stand by at the airlock."
Bianca nodded, not looking up from her work. "Like, cool."
The docking was a symphony of groaning metal and hissing pressure seals. The Whisper Jet, sleek and predatory, extended its umbilical corridor to kiss the scarred airlock of the larger, blockier Mule. With a final, resounding clunk that vibrated through the decks, the ships became one. A series of hydraulic whines signaled the pressure equalization, and with a sigh of equalizing atmosphere, the inner airlock door slid open.
The air that washed over them was different; it carried the faint, cold scent of recycled oxygen, metal fatigue, and an underlying, almost spiritual aroma of old paper and dried herbs. Two women stood waiting. One was young, with hair the color of fresh-fallen snow and storm-grey eyes that held a deep, unsettling calm. The other was older, her face neutral and forgettable, her hands—clean, but with worn cuticles—clasped firmly in front of her simple grey coveralls.
The white-haired woman stepped forward, a gentle smile gracing her serene features. "Thank you," she said, her voice a soft melody. "We were not sure we would make it. I am Emily Nary. This is Jane Kalos."
Before any more pleasantries could be exchanged, Daniel Kamath shouldered his way forward from the direction of the cockpit. His sharp, severe features were set in a permanent scowl, his eyes, dark and intensely analytical, scanning the new arrivals like faulty machinery. "Who are you?" he demanded, his gaze lingering on their unfamiliar attire. "You don't look like any faction I'm aware of."
Charlie drew a breath, ready to deliver a pontificating, third-person introduction, but Aurélie's voice, cool and firm, cut through the space first. "We are currently affiliated with the JFF."
Daniel's eyes narrowed. "Mercenaries, then."
"Yes." The word came from Kuro, who stood with his arms crossed, a challenging, smug expression on his face as he met Aurélie's suddenly sharp gaze. A silent confrontation sparked between them, a clash of unspoken agendas.
Souta, ever the observer, deftly broke the tension. "And you? What faction do you represent?"
"We are with the Celestial Monastery," Emily explained, her storm-grey eyes seeming to look through them, into some deeper cosmic truth. "We are scholars. We seek to understand the universe, not merely conquer it. Our path is one of silent dialogue."
Bianca, utterly uninterested in the philosophical posturing, bounced on the balls of her feet. "So, like, what happened? Where's the damage? I can, like, see if there's anything I can, like, do?"
Jane Kalos, the silent custodian, gave Bianca an appraising look. "You are the engineer."
Bianca paused for a half-second, then flicked her wrist. "Like, yeah, sure."
Jane gave a single, curt nod. "Come this way. I can show you." She gestured down a corridor, and Bianca fell in step, waving for Charlie to follow. The scholar hurried after them, already pulling a small notebook and a glyph-tracing loupe from his overloaded satchel.
As they disappeared, Souta turned his inquiry back to Emily. "What was the sequence of events that led to your stranding?"
"We were struck by stray fragments from a meteoroid swarm," Emily explained, her hands gently tracing the air as if drawing the memory. "The penetration was minor, but it damaged our primary motivator, leaving us adrift near a dormant Typhon cell. The disturbance of our distress beacon… woke it. And then…"
Daniel interrupted with a grunt. "Standard doctrine. A stationary vessel acts as a lure. A predictable outcome."
Emily nodded, accepting the chastisement without offense. "Yes, of course. It was a very good thing you were so close."
A sudden, unnerving giggle, high and musical, echoed from a side corridor. Everyone turned to see Ember peering into an open maintenance duct, a wicked smile on her face as she traced the outlines of exposed wiring with a finger.
Aurélie and Kuro both let out simultaneous, weary groans.
"I will retrieve her," Aurélie stated, her tone suggesting this was a familiar duty.
Kuro gave a terse nod. "See that you do."
Meanwhile, in the engine room…
The heart of the Stubborn Mule was a cramped space dominated by the silent, wounded bulk of the Minovsky-Ionesco reactor. Bianca went to work immediately, her energy a stark contrast to the room's inert state. She marched to a console, Charlie hovering at her shoulder.
"Ahem! It appears atmospheric pressure is decreasing by point-zero-three percent per minute, even with the supplemental life support from the docked vessel," Charlie announced, peering at the readouts through his loupe.
Bianca nodded, not looking up. "Like, this engine needs parts. It's, like, totally starved." She abandoned the console and marched to a wall, her fingers finding hidden latches. With a grunt, she pulled a large access panel away, setting it aside with a clatter. Jane and Charlie leaned in to look over her shoulder at the complex weave of wiring and crystalline structures within.
Bianca reached in, her touch surprisingly gentle. "See? The catalyst alignment is, like, totally out of whack. And these psycho-reactive crystals…" She tapped a cluster of minerals that pulsed with a faint, sickly light. "They're, like, too damaged to be repaired. They need to be, like, replaced."
They regrouped with the others in the main corridor. Daniel's face was like thunder. "Well?"
"Like, the crystals in the primary motivator are, like, totally, fractured," Bianca delivered the verdict with an engineer's bluntness. "You're, like, not going anywhere without new ones."
Daniel cursed, a sharp, violent word that seemed to make the very air flinch.
"We should, like, tell the pilots," Bianca suggested.
Caden's voice, weary but clear, crackled over the still-live comms. "We heard everything."
Kuro, ever pragmatic, stepped forward. "What is your recommendation?"
It was then that a new voice sliced through the internal channel, its tone crisp, authoritative, and dripping with institutional power. "Stubborn Mule, this is the CUA patrol vessel Righteous Hand. We are responding to your distress beacon. Please state the nature of your emergency and prepare for inspection. ETA twenty minutes."
The effect was instantaneous. Every back straightened. Every face tightened. The diverse group of strangers, mercenaries, and monks became a single entity frozen in shared alarm.
Charlie swallowed audibly. "This could be a problem."
Daniel cursed again, this time with a feeling of profound, gut-wrenching frustration.
From outside, Luke's laughter rang out. "Well, this got interesting!"
"You idiot, this is no time for—" Daniel began, but Evander's voice, commanding and clear, cut him off.
"Abandon the ship! Grab what you can! We will take you with us to Orphan's End. You can regroup there."
Daniel's jaw flexed, a muscle twitching under the skin. He was a man who prized control, and this was the ultimate loss of it.
Kuro interjected, his voice low and urgent. "Time is of the essence."
Daniel closed his eyes for a brief second, then opened them, his decision made. "Fine." He turned to Jane and Emily, his voice gruff with forced command. "Grab what you can. We're leaving."
"Copy that," Caden's voice came through, all business. "We'll dock the Frames and meet you on the Whisper Jet. Move quickly."
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