Chapter 19
A Caravan to the Stars
The lobby of the Pioneer'sDawn was a microcosm of the Federation itself—a vast, echoing space filled with a low, restless hum of hundreds of voices, each carrying the subtle, unmistakable signature of Enhanced potential. Kaelen stood with Jax near a towering viewport, the receding marble of Aethelgard a breathtaking backdrop to the gathering crowd.
"Never seen so many of us in one place," Jax murmured, his fingers still tracing nervous patterns in the air. "Back in my district, I was the only one. Felt like a freak. Here… it's just normal." He glanced at Kaelen. "So, what's your story? You never said. I was a data-stream animator. Boring stuff. Then one day, I got so frustrated with a glitching render that my terminal keyboard melted. The AVI scan picked up the residual heat signature. Got my notice the next week."
Kaelen gave a half-smile. "Less dramatic. Data-archivist. Orphan. Got my draft notice, then… things changed." He kept it vague, but the shared context of being plucked from ordinary lives was a powerful bond.
Their duo soon became a quartet. A hulking man named Roric, whose skin had the faint, stony texture of a low-level Physical Enhancer from the Slovanian Collective of The Capital of Nova Terra, introduced himself. "Tunnel-crawler. My bloodline's good for shoring up mine shafts, not much else. Heard they need people who can handle cave-ins and unstable ground on Elysian." His voice was a low rumble, his handshake like gripping granite.
Then came Elara, a woman with eyes that seemed to see too much. She was from the State of Euro-African Concord from the motherland of Terra Prime, a Psionic-type who could sense strong emotional imprints. "I was a grief counselor," she said softly. "After the Unification Wars memorials… the emotions in those places are so strong they become almost physical. I started sensing them. The AVRC called it 'Residual Empathy.' Not exactly a combat skill." She gave a wry smile.
The most striking was a young woman named Luna, who moved with a fluidity that seemed to defy the ship's artificial gravity. When Jax, ever the extrovert, asked her ability, she simply held out her hand. A tiny, perfect sphere of water, condensed from the humid air, formed above her palm, shimmering and holding its shape. "Hydro-kinesis," she said, her voice melodic. "My family are aquatic engineers with the Oceanic League." This was unexpected a woman from different Sector. She was clearly from a privileged background, a sponsored Enhancer, yet here she was, volunteering for the frontier.
Jax nudged Kaelen. "Oceanus! I heard their Enhancers can breathe underwater for an hour. Imagine the Aegis League matches there."
They swapped stories, a mosaic of ordinary lives shattered and remade by random chance or genetic lottery. They pointed out others in the crowd: a man whose shadow seemed to move independently, a woman with prehensile hair that subtly shifted like vines, a pair of twins who finished each other's sentences with telepathic precision. The sheer diversity was staggering. These weren't just soldiers; they were a cross-section of a society learning to live with sudden, strange power.
The gentle hum of conversation was cut by a sharp, clear chime that resonated through the lobby. A section of the far wall retracted, and a group of officials walked onto a raised dais. Their uniforms were a crisp display of Federal authority, and the auras they projected—even at a distance—spoke of high Order rank.
The central figure, a woman with silver-streaked hair and the sharp bearing of a military commander, stepped forward. A hush fell.
"Volunteers of the Pioneer's Dawn," her voice, amplified and clear, filled the space. "I am Commander Valerius of the Federal Galactic Navy, 5th Order Aether-Weaver. On behalf of the Terran Galactic Federation, welcome."
She introduced few of her colleagues notable were a severe man from the Federal Intelligence Directorate (4th Order Psionic), a woman whose eyes held the calculated coldness of the Avalon Technocracy (4th Order Cyborg), and Operative Drayton, representing the Colonial Administration Bureau (surprisingly a 3th Order Esper), who gave a brief, professional nod to evryone.
"You are aboard the FSS Pioneer's Dawn," Commander Valerius continued, a star map materializing in holographic glory above her. "But you are not its only passengers. This vessel has already gathered volunteers from the motherlands of Terra Prime(The Cradle) and the Capital of Nova Terra, along with their orbital habitats." A pinprick of light on the map highlighted their previous stops.
"We have now just completed transfer of immigrant from the final stop of the Aethelgard Hegemony, planet of Aethelgard (The Bastion) and completed our contingent from the Helios Corridor. We will now meet with the escort fleet next week to journey towards Sectorial Intersection to meet with other ships from different Star Sector's world or from some of present Enhancers home worlds."
Roric grunted, "Kulthea's the one I'd like to see. Their Forge-Games are pure, brutal power. No fancy tricks."
Commander Valerius's voice brought them back. "Ours is one of several such immigration ships, each gathering the hopeful from a different galactic corridor. Together, we will form the Elysian Immigration Fleet, a armada of hope carrying the future of humanity."
The star map zoomed out, showing the vast stretch between the Helios Corridor and the Elysian's Dawn Sector. "The journey will take seven to eight standard months."
A murmur ran through the crowd. It was a long time to be in transit.
"You may wonder at the duration," she said, anticipating the question. "While our civilization has mastered light-speed travel, true Faster-Than-Light transit remains beyond our grasp, a boundary set by the universe itself. However, we are not limited to mere thrusters." The hologram changed, showing the ship approaching a shimmering, violent-looking rift in space. "We will make use of a naturally occurring, stabilized wormhole after meeting with escort fleet—a cosmic shortcut forged by titanic Aetheric forces eons ago. Our Aether-FTL drives will create a protective bubble to shepherd us through the gravitational turbulence. It is the safest and fastest method known, a testament to the combined ingenuity of our Aether-Weavers and the Slovanian Collective's engineers."
The presentation concluded with practicalities. Ship staff, identifiable by their blue jumpsuits, moved through the crowd, distributing data-slates and giving instructions. They were shown holographic guides to the ship's sectors: the massive arboretums for fresh air, the training facilities for Enhancers, the mess halls, and the medical bays.
Finally, a staff member approached Kaelen's group. "Cabin assignments. You're all in Sector Gamma, same ward. It's grouped by planetary origin for convenience." He rattled off room numbers. Kaelen was in room G-17. Jax, beaming, was in G-18, right next door. Roric and Elara were a few doors down.
They followed the directions through the ship's clean, brightly lit corridors, a river of people flowing to their new, temporary homes. The door to G-17 hissed open at Kaelen's touch. It was a compact but efficient space: a single bed, a small desk, a private sanitizer unit, and a viewport showing the endless star-dusted black.
Jax leaned in his doorway. "Not bad, huh? Better than my old apartment on Aethelgard. Seven months… it's a long time. But with the training facilities on this tub? By the time we reach Elysian, sadly without training method and guidance we might not improve by much."
Kaelen nodded, dropping his kit bag on the bed. "A long time," he echoed. But for him, it was a gift. Seven months in this ship was nearly twenty years on Valeria. Time for Ser Renly to become a legend. Time for him to grow strong.
He looked out the viewport at the receding pinprick that was Aethelgard. He was on his way. But part of him was already light-years away, in a quiet village called Bluestone, walking a path of its own. The journey had truly begun.