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spacetubers · 7 years

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Cosmogyral: Prologue

-For those who can’t access AO3 ❤

(adj.) whirling around the universe.

Milky way, Year XXXX

All his life, Mark Fischbach dreamed of traversing the stars under the Galactic Alliance. The general peace had given rise to many systems banding together to survive in harmony, and Mark wanted to be part of that. A difference, he wanted to make a difference; he wanted to be a part of this peaceful era.

With that dream in mind, and a fast tracked initiation into the Star Corps, he stands one atmosphere away from doing that. Being the youngest captain to control a vessel in the Corps should be a great honor...

But something doesn't seem right; his crew, disapproved from all sides, agrees.

The universe just got a whole lot darker. The objective, a tad clearer.

T he glass expanse overlooked the city of Los Angeles, with the midnight rush flying just beyond the protective barrier. Neon lights, glinting off the metallic skyline, cast a sheen into the office and beyond. A shadow moved, and its owner sighed, eyes darting to the paperwork on his desk; the words glared back at him through a pounding headache.

The floors below were probably still cleaning up the night’s festivities; something he ducked out of early to avoid the conversation. It was, however, a good christening , despite the obvious tensions in the room. Fucking Euro-Division; they could have avoided that tension easily.

A sharp sting made him groan in annoyance, wrinkled hands rising to rub under sandy curls; nails coagulating with the infused gel. It was something new, he called; some imported Faunix nonsense. The substance was sent flying out of their fingers soon after. He could deal with the smell for now; it was better than the headache.

For a moment, he wondered where the pain originated from, but the sheer possibilities stemmed back to one man. He rubbed his temples, muttering. “Hnng Rea, activate night mode, please.”

There was a short silence, before the metallic whirring behind him signaled the change in lighting. “Right away, Admiral Ellis.” The overhead lights dimmed to a more somber mood, and the whirring stopped with a small ding.

More silence.

“Are you satisfied with this alternation?” The sleek, artificial voice queried with a warm tone; it almost sounded concerned. “Would you like me to call for some medication, Admiral?”

“Send it in after I’ve had my meeting.” The ding of a registered request followed soon after, so he added. “Speaking of which...Has Captain Fischbach-”

“Captain Fischbach is currently in the South Wing.” The Interface Module responded immediately, ignoring the slight delay in their charge’s words. “His estimated time of arrival is 7 minutes and thirty six seconds.”

There was a pause. “Admiral?”

The groan that followed held enough emotion for a dignified response. “Actually, send the medication now.” The shuffling papers held the instant punctuation. His eyes flickered past the various reports; the names were already memorized, and the level of compatibility assessed. If there was one thing he knew, then it would be the names displayed. “It’s going to be a long conversation.”

His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy...Well,not exactly, but the eminem reference was appreciated. His stride was confident, and his arms were swinging loosely with each step, so he only had his face to think about.

Nice try, Slim Shady.

Mark Fischbach tucked that thought away for another mental conversation, ignoring the questioning glances he got as he passed. They didn’t need to know where the smile originated from, anyway. Besides, it wasn’t the first time the recently promoted Captain held such an expression; they should be used to it by now.

However, Mark knew he was nervous. He hadn’t been nervous the day he joined the Corps, despite many cadets dropping out a week into the program. He’d curbed his anxiety through each exam session with a reassuring smile and extensive work. Hell, he’d psyched himself for weeks before he accepted the promotion offer.

Why the hell was he biting his tongue? “...What if they made a mistake?” The whisper came out involuntarily. If only he had someone to empty his fears onto before he entered the room. In fact, the missing presence of Tim didn’t help the situation at all; Mark practically had that droid by his side in everything he did. “I don’t know...Nevermind.” Nervous as all hell, that's for sure.

Admiral Ellis never called anyone in for meetings these days, considering there were mere hours before the christening of a new starship. Considering the small factoid that he was the new captain of the ship, the meeting was nervewrecking. The door loomed ahead, Starcorp insignia etched into the metal.

Mark knocked. “You may proceed, Captain Fischbach.” Mark jumped. “...My apologies. I am REA: Admiral Ellis’ new Assistance Module.”

The captain furrowed his brow in confusion, “I thought there was another AI-”

“Due to unforeseen infiltration, the module was terminated.” The door slid open, and the voice dinged once more. “Admiral Ellis is expecting you; don’t keep him waiting.” The module clicked off.

“Come on in Mark.”

“Evening, Sir.” Mark cleared his throat as he stepped into the office, registering the door closing behind him; his hands, going to his sides, kept the respectful stance. “You wanted to see me?”

The Admiral seemed to watch him for a few moments, eyes darting to the papers on the table, before the sides of his mouth curled. The nervousness left his body with that very expression. “...At ease, Captain. Please, take a seat.” Mark fulfilled the request with a strained smile. “I just wanted to discuss some things my favourite student before you hit the road tomorrow...You can breathe now.”

“I’m...breathing.”

Mark's exhale of relief- and a rather amusing mutter - caused a booming laugh to echo through the room. “That’s better! Can’t have you dying before you even breach this solar system.” The Admiral's laugh dissolved into a fond chuckle. “Can we?”

“Well...That would suck ass.” Mark offered a small smile. “Tyler would kick me back to life.”

“I am sure Lieutenant Scheid would do just that. He is in charge of your crew’s security, after all.” The tone was suggestive, which brought a more sombre tone to the conversation.

Mark ignored it for a moment, testing the waters. "He could just use a defibrillator as well. Shocking, I know"

The Admiral watched the smile dissipate. “Doctor Bisognin would patch you right up, though I'm sure one of the others could have done it just as well...”

Silence.

Mark frowned, leaning forward in his seat; his elbows, grazing the table, retracted. “What are you trying to say? Are we really here for this?” The exasperated tone reverberated through the room, hanging heavily by its epicentre. “...I choose my crew. You approved it.”

The admiral sighed. “Mark...You know your choices have caused a 'ruckus' among the Corps. You haven’t even made an approved choice on your science officer, let alone your helmsman, and now your inner circle is a mismatched group of-”

"Sir."

"-A metaphorical bomb bound to explode. It makes no sense!"

“Admiral...I just want to know why we’re still on about this.” The response held an edge to it, Mark’s frown was increasing. “Ethan is fully capable of directing the ship until we reach the outpost, then we can sign on our missing bridge members. Just because they’re not exactly what was decided-”

“I’m on about this because you’re not taking the sheer chaos you may cause!” The retort took Mark by surprise. The captain leaned away from the table, while the lecture continued. “First Officer McLoughlin, Lieutenant Nestor....Kjellburg. I understand your inclusion of Doctor Bisognin-”

“Commander Kjellburg.”

More silence.

"Don’t you dare…”

“With all due respect, Sir,” Mark's words, dripping with disapproval, left his lips. “Felix has a title.”

“I refuse to call him anything of the sort.” Mark got up at those words, turning towards the door. The action was immediately followed by a chair screeching. “Fischbach, sit down. Fischbach! Violating the orders of an admiral-”

“I have to get ready for launch, Sir. We leave in less than eight hours.” With each word, Mark’s anger grew and his patience waned, but his stride remained the same. “My crew needs me.”

“Your crew...Mark please. You need to listen to the voice of reason. You can't surround yourself with a crew like that; we can-”

The patience left with a whirl of his body. “The voice of reason, huh?” Mark’s smile held no humor, “The same voice that got me to join the Academy? Or perhaps the voice that managed to impress the Corps into being the youngest captain in their history?” He shook his head, hands running through black hair. Only a few weeks ago, it had been a scarlet hue. “I know my friends, and I trust them with all of my very being. The fact that-”

“Mark, please...Come sit down.”

Silence.

Mark inhaled, closing his eyes. “Look, Sir, I know I’m making very risky decisions, but they feel right. They feel justified! It’s not the easiest route, nor is it the accepted route, but it’s a route I’m willing to take. They’re my crew, and I am their captain. You can’t expect me to change myself to suit others; we’re going to do great things together, and I want it to go my way; for the Alliance, for everyone...”

The silence that followed was bloated, uncomfortable. Disappointed.

"For the Alliance, huh?"

He waited for more words, for any hint of disapproval. The words he’d heard from almost every higher up since his promotion, and the sneers he’d heard once the crew-list was announced. Some were encouraging, while most were pure amusement, but the intent was clear. This was never going to slide; they were waiting for a bigger mistake. Mark’s thoughts, whirling together, almost blocked the sound of the door opening with a curt farewell from REA. He opened his eyes in shock, but stepped through with slight reluctance. Could he really leave this relationship on such an estranged note? “Sir?”

“You’re right...I’ve tried my best.” The sigh was filled with pity, and Mark had to turn around to view the resigned face through the door, staring down at the papers. “You have no idea what you have brought upon yourself, Captain. Are you sure you are willing to destroy everything...and possibly everyone...you love?”

“I-” Mark was cut off by the chuckle that followed, and a final shuffle of papers.

“Don’t answer.” Admiral Ellis, holding up a hand, shook his head, looking away from the door. “You don’t owe me the answer...Godspeed.”

The door closed with a click.

"So you're saying that he called you over...just to tell you to kick most of us out?"

"Exactly."

Weaving through the city skyline, the standard issue hovercar thrummed happily; the auto-pilot system held no qualms to being this overworked. Mark, sitting in one of two seats, regarded the suited being with a neutral gaze. The being in question picked at a set of scarlet scales under his collar. The main species on Solax had many human-like characteristics, but the hardened scales must be itchy in earth's varied environment. There was no use in using contacts to hide the eyes either, but Mark had gotten used to the warm gaze. "Well, at least you can confirm that he's a little shady, huh? At least he hosts good parties; is it me, or do all potential villains host good parties?"

Mark caught the grin before he groaned. "Let's not call him a villain just yet, Wade. He's just doing his job...There must be a reason he's like that." Eyes darting away from the scales to rest on the nearest hologram, Mark continued. "Besides...You're as shady as he is right now, Mr I just hacked into Corps property to help my smuggling friend."

The Sol gasped, rolling his eyes. "When you say it like that...It almost makes me feel bad." The two shared a smirk. "Besides, I don't even know who you're bringing aboard. The only thing Bob told me was that they're part of the main team...Why can't I know?"

"...It's complicated." Mark sighed, shaking his head slightly. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell anyone, but rather a necessity to make sure everything worked out. That was one of the reasons he let Bob in on the plan, for one, which helped ease the situation ever-so-slightly; it also allowed for a quicker recruiting of Wade. All he had to do was dupe the Corps.

Easier said than done.

The hovercar shuddered slightly, swaying with the sudden change in course as the base coding was overridden. Wade, holding onto a railing as the sudden jolt, gave a sheepish smile. "It was a very sudden job..."

Mark laughed, and settled in for the ride.

It didn't take that long; the pickup location was just a few moments from the city centre, yet far enough to divert suspicion. If the plan worked, they'd be in and up in ten minutes; it was virtually full-proof.

Mark just hoped that Professor Nelson held true to her word.

Professor Amy Nelson- real name unknown -had the missing Kalustrian princess with her, after all.

They had met by chance; Mark had been running some errands when he spotted the two trying to hail one of the many taxis in the area. Despite the rain, the kalustrians didn't seem to have an umbrella on them, so he presumed they were tourists. Out of the good will of his heart, Mark had offered them a ride to wherever they were going.

That was the most interesting- and shocking- four hours of his life.

(Which included waffles, but that was besides the point)

"Y-you're actually her? P-Princess Kathyrn..."

"Well...I guess so. It's not a big deal."

"Big deal?! Kalustra is literally hunting you down!"

"...And?"

The hovercar docked.

"Aand we're here." Wade, proclaiming the obvious, finally let go of the railing. With a quick look at his friend, the Sol went to check the hovercar controls. "Go do whatever shady things you need to do."

"Well thanks, Wade." The swish of the door opening caught Mark's attention, opening to the entrance to n apartment block. The brick faced exterior and small front garden were too familiar to forget; he'd spent many an afternoon conversing inside the walls. If someone had told him those starry eyed, dream-like propositions would have come to fruition, he would have laughed.

But they were doing this, so backing out now was futile.

Mark took a deep breath, and stepped out of the vehicle. "Ten minutes. We'll be back."

#//story #alternate source #spacetubers

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