It’s funny how things work.
Two thousand years ago, humanity was on a path of self-destruction, caused by our own carelessness and arrogance. Our home, our birthplace, our mother, she had fallen sick from the abuse we willingly inflicted. We always thought that no matter what, she’d always be there for mankind, but just like everything else, Earth had a life, and it was reaching its end. Desperate and hopeless, we launched what remnants of humanity they could salvage into the endless void of space, praying and begging for an escape.
Little did we know what we were doing to ourselves.
Since those times, things have changed; many things, too many things to explain to one so young. We thought we would progress farther, but instead, evolution has gone backwards.
What do you mean, sir?
There’s only one thing you need to understand, young one: Survival, at all costs. That has always been the creed of life, and today, as a human child, the odds are severely stacked against you. Spending a lifetime on the run is not how I thought I would waste mine. However, even you, my child, will be subjected to such a fate.
Why is that, sir?
Why is anything anymore? Why are we still around, after all this time? Because every person in history had made a living running away. That simply who we are, who we’ve been, and who will always be; fugitives, on the run. And if you’re ever caught, then your story will be forced to end, no matter the ending. That is the goal to life, to simply end your story on your terms…
Yes, father…
~
The chamber-pod hissed forebodingly, its large glass panel swung open, and he leaned forward from his slumber. His eyes were crusted over from his long rest, and the room smelt strangely new this time around. It was hard to believe that it’s been six full days since he was last conscious, yet he only felt like he slept for hours.
Regardless, the young male extended his legs from the bottom of the chamber, and stretched. The blood rush always feels amazing from stretching after cryogenesis, as the limbs were kept with a just enough flow to prevent limb damage. Relaxed and relieved, he reached outward for his ravaged cloak, the only thing that mildly concealed his identity, and wrapped it around his grey civilian suit. He ran his hands through his long strands of black, matted hair, and stepped forward from the pod, and out into the hallway.
Here, the steel grating over the floor rang with every motion of his body, and the harsh dimness of the hallway only enforced the cold, dense atmosphere. The reek of the other inhabitants leaked from behind their room doors; the scent was almost overpowering. He could not smell another one of his kind through everything else. There was no doubt in his mind he was the only one of his species on this ship.
At the end of the hallway was a large recreational area, the life of the ship. During long flights, if not frozen, it was typical for passengers to congregate here, participating in menial tasks such as casual conversations and indulging in a drink or two. However, after Universal Time 10:00 Moon Cycle, it was common for the scum traveling onboard to make their way to this area, get drunk, and occasionally murder one-another.
This Moon Cycle, there were a few beings, just over a dozen, scurried throughout the general area. The young male made his way over to a table just beyond the hallway and sat down. Almost instantly, he noticed, through the corner of his eye, someone began to approach him. He stilled his breath, but all the while tried to relax. He had to remain calm, no matter the circumstances.
The figure finally reached him, stopped, and asked, “Ecct Ne Va Uot?”
The male let out a quiet sigh, and turned to face the person. It looked to be a male humanoid, with a blue-ish hue to his skin, and a small incision-like line in the center of his face was open to reveal his third eye; a Phrygian. He looked up at the Phrygian and said, “Water, nothing else.”
“Yggsail?” The Phrygian asked.
“Yes, clean water would be preferred,” the male replied. Briskly, the Phrygian walked off, eager to fulfill another order. It must be a bleak existence, only existing to follow the whims of everyman, since the Empire exiled them years ago. He and they were a lot alike; with the exception, that he had no longer had a place he could call home.
The waiter swiftly returned, carrying on a circular trey, a single petite glass. He placed it softly in front of the cloaked male, and extended his free hand. ‘Iex Solenoids,” he murmured.
The cloaked male in return, extended his hand and placed 10 tiny gold bars into the Phrygian’s hand. For a moment, the Phrygian glanced down at the transaction and his third eye began to gleam. The cloaked man’s hand was pale, scale-less and hairless. Briefly, almost in disbelief, the word, “human” escaped his mouth.
The male clasped the waiter’s hands together, gazed softly into the third-eye. “Six for the drink, and four to keep a secret, right?” he asked.
The waiter shook his head in agreement and once again sped off quietly. The man sighed and took a sip of his lukewarm drink. Hopefully, he had paid enough of a bribe this time for the waiter to keep his identity to himself. Many times before had similar situations happened like this occurred, and not all the times he was so lucky. It was bad enough he had to sneak on to the freighter; he did not want to deal with the likes of security.
It was not long ago that a bounty was placed over the head of every single human being, about 50 years or so. It did not help that for the past two thousand, humans were the lowest species in the universal caste system. The year, according to the Humanity’s Christian Calendar, was 4081, approximately two millenniums after humanity too their first steps into the deep, cold, emptiness of space. It was their only hope for survival, not only because of extreme overpopulation, but also because of the degenerating planet. After countless ages, their home world, Earth, was bled dry and slowly devoid of life from whom she birthed. The inevitable ascension of nuclear war had scorched the land bare, cleansed of any signs of life. Man-made chemicals had tainted her life’s blood. When it rained; acid fell from the sky. When her winds blow, death followed suit. Her once joyous blue skies were now painted a dismal, bloody hue.
Desperate for escape, the world’s greatest powers dissolved their hate for a greater good, and mended together to find the answers they so desperately needed. The result: ten years later colossal spacecraft were constructed with means to transporting the human race of this dying husk of a planet. These ships were capable of supporting human life for decades, if need be, until another suitable candidate for a home would be found. However, only so many people could be contained and sustained for so long.
Hundreds of thousands people were given salvation.
Billions, reluctantly, were left behind.
Either way, a lot has happened in such little time. Next thing they knew, extraterrestrial life found what was left of humanity drifting endlessly, and the rest was history. History, best left for another day.
“Excuse me,” a soft voice rang out behind him. It sounded rather feminine, although a bit distant.
“Sorry, but I’m not interested in anything you have to say,” the human said briskly.
However, the person persisted. “Whether or not you listen is your choice, but I must warn you—“
Irritated, the male turned in his chair to face the converser. “Look, I told you once—“ he paused.
No one stood behind him.
“You’re in extreme danger here,” the voice continued.
Whoever this person was, they were speaking directly to his mind… telepathy. Relaxing his mind, he focused all his energy into concentrating on the voice. “I’m listening”, he replied.
“I don’t have long, so I must talk brisk,” the voice said. “In twenty minutes, before this craft reaches the obit of Evelon, a … ship will breach this one and attempt a hostile…”
The voice began to grow distant “Working for the… However, an electric… is located in the ship’s… it needs to be manually armed… two minutes…find insurgent… Edenian…I’m sorry…”
The voice dissipated from his mind.
Chuckling, the man continued to sip at his drink. “I thought I told that Mysian, clean water?”
~

In the cockpit of the midsize transport cruiser, the multiple men it took to pilot the ship were toiling away. Like clockwork, six out the eight men continually rotated, bouncing from wall-to-wall. Each pale skinned, long-fingered man served a separate role that worked toward the benefit of the whole, flipping switches and scanning screens, The two who didn’t rotate, sat in seats up front, grasping controllers and staring blankly through visors in the cold emptiness. They made no necessary movements, sticking to a drone-like state.
In the distance, the glow emanating from the planet Evelon shined through the glass. It was a glorious planet, lush with forestry and covered in water. Even from a couple million miles away, one could see the giant landmass that dominated most of the planet. It was there that the city of Tyre, the largest city on that planet, awaiting the cruiser. From there, the ship would unload its cargo and disembark for another planet, with another load of cargo, and the cycle would continue endlessly.
That is, if the cruiser would make it to its destination.
“Engage the Flight-A.I., docking in approximately twenty-five minutes,” one of the stationary men barked.
“Acknowledged,” the adjacent one replied.
Seamlessly, the six behind them flipped a couple switches, but to the naked eye, it seemed as though nothing out of the ordinary happened.
However, one of the men stopped in his tracks, glaring hard at a circular screen. “Small blip on the radar, sir,” he stated.
“Proceeding with caution,” one of the stationary men said.
“Threat level yellow: meteor or debris. Recommend evasive actions,” the man at the radar said.
“Acknowledged, small UFO located approximately two million miles away. Flight path predicted, estimated rendezvous point; fifth-teen minutes. Time to adjust flight path; ten minutes. Delay of arrival time; three minutes.”
“Unacceptable,” the other pilot fired back. “Draw power from trivial sources, shields should become optimized to two hundred percent. No effect on flight time or path… Much more efficient.”
“Sir, are you sure that is a good idea?”
No answer.
“…Acknowledged, drain power and funnel towards shields. Continue with flight as planned.”
Again, the clockwork behind them began functioning once more, tolling away at the task.
~

“Greeting, passengers, we will be arriving in orbit of Evelon in approximately twenty-five minutes. We will dock in the port of Tyre, the cultural and financial hotspot of Evelon!”
An automated feminine voice rang through the PA of the ship. It was customary for the ships to use Artificial Intelligence programs for such menial tasks, since they were too much of a risk to use on much more complicated tasks (even though they had the capacity to do so). Even though the human could understand the message clearly, it was broadcasted throughout multiple different frequencies, each one tuned to a different language for a different species.
The cloaked man rose from his seat and headed towards the opposite side of the room. When the ship would land, he would not have to hide any longer, but even then, he would still have to be cautious of his surroundings. Evelon was a safe haven for outlaw species, such as the humans and Edenians, since they could not be openly hunted. Regardless, Evelon was new territory for him, and it represented a whole lot more than the chance at a new future.
About halfway through the nearly deserted room, a group of heavily armored individuals converged around a lone table, glaring in the direction of the cloaked male. There wore ravaged beige body suits made from a mixture of a diamond compound and silicon. Dark-tinted helmets concealed their faces, and they, too, were rough and scoffed.
As the cloaked human passed by, trying his best to remain calm, one of the individuals rose from his seat and interrupted his path, standing sturdily to block him. Soon after, another one moved from behind him, and the remaining two move to his sides. They left no room for escape, but more room for harm.
“Excuse,” the human spoke.
“Our boss would like to speak to you,” one of the other men uttered. Forcefully, the one behind the human wrapped his arm around the human’s neck, and the two perpendicular to him leeched onto his arms and forced them away from him.
“Let go of me!” the human rasped.
The man in front of him then landed a deadening punch into the human’s gut, simply to silence him.
Although the empire was not void of laws, on Galactic Cruisers, certain “transactions” such as this were not allowed, yet, not a single soul was brave enough to say otherwise. Most people feared the consequences of interfering, usually because one would become a target themselves. These heavily armored men were often bounty hunters or soldiers. Bounty hunters, commonly, were an alien race known as Mysians, bred for that same purpose for generations.
Together, they pulled, the cloaked male away from the recreational area and into one of the dark hallways branching out from the room.