I check the latency bar, which monitors our connection, and it looks like everything is holding up okay on my end, even as vessel after vessel warps into view in front of my ship. Rebekah’s video stream cuts in and out, her voice getting garbled and then clear and then static again. Spaceships of all kinds and shapes and sizes thunder in and out of warp from wherever they were before in the cosmos. Bright neon colors contrast with numerous ships in cold metallic shades, some colored so black, so dark, they practically blend in to the open space. Ships of gold and silver shimmer from the reflecting light of a nearby star, and my radar screen is full to bursting with small glowing dots, each representing a nearby player.
The Angst Armada has arrived.
2
AARON
There are many planets in the universe, but this one is mine.
As my small ship bursts through the atmosphere, hurtling toward the planet’s surface, the wind roars outside of my vessel, the chassis rattling with an intensity that makes me feel as though the cockpit is set to fall to pieces.
Two sights demand my attention. One, the control panel before me, consisting of a small screen tracking my speed and angle of descent, accompanied by a large surface map of what’s below. But as the ship shifts to manual controls and I grip the flight stick, my hands firm against the rubber handles, my gaze is inexorably drawn to the second sight, looming out the cockpit window, filling my eyes with color.
The actual planet. Undiscovered. New. Mine.
The sky glows with bursts of ruby, purple, and blue, like paint that’s been carelessly spilled over an impossibly giant canvas. To the right, forests bloom in what look like autumnal colors, although there’s no way to know what the seasons are on this planet, and a large mountain range interrupts the foliage with light browns and beiges. On my left, a long bright blue river cuts through the wilderness, swaths of white streaking through the water.
Reluctantly, I drag my focus back to the controls. Rate of descent, good. Speed, good. Fuel—more than enough to get off the planet if there’s any hostile wildlife. Readings dictate no humanoid life, which is important, as I’m not here to disrupt anyone’s place in the universe or steal their home.
I take a deep breath and steady myself for the landing as a suitable clearing appears on the map display in front of me, followed by a glimpse of the landscape through the large cockpit window: a massive field of green, marred by a handful of large boulders scattered across it, like large gray marbles tossed by a child. I try to focus on them as my ship gets closer, lower to the ground. I’d like to avoid damaging my ship and getting trapped here if I can help it.
With a hum, the landing pads extend, emitting a soft rumbling under my feet. They click loudly into place with a hard snap, and my ship slows and slows until it comes almost to an standstill above the clearing, hovering in place. The roar of the wind is gone now, replaced by the hum of plasma engines behind and below me as they pulse softly, controlling the sway of the ship as I lower it to the ground.
I land gently, the ship jangling around just a little and letting out a soft hiss of air, decompressing. I peer out at the meadow for a moment, then scan the screens under the flight stick for any sign that the terrain before me might be dangerous. Breathable air? Check, just slightly thinner than back home or here in the ship. I’ll need to be careful when climbing or running too much. Need to keep up my stamina. There’s a water source not far away, though, so I shouldn’t have to carry that much in the way of supplies.
But that wilderness out there. Those mountains.
I hit a panel under one of the screens, and it slides open, revealing a small blaster that I picked up on my latest supply run. I toss it in my pack, along with a canteen and some purification tablets for the water by that river. Then I push a button on the digital tracker on my wrist, and a menu pops up, displaying a dizzying array of options. I shake my head and quickly push the map button, eager to figure out where I am so I can start exploring. Details be damned. With a soft chime, the menu closes, and a small white light pulses on the edge of the screen.
Good. It’ll map the terrain while I walk.
I stare out the cockpit window one more time, at the field and the boulders stacked around. A splash of color flickers in the corner of my vision, and I turn to see a flock of birdlike creatures taking to the skies, their wings a bright emerald shade of green, their bellies the yellow of fresh corn and full of glimmering scales.
I press a few buttons on the screen near the flight stick and the cockpit opens, my heart pounding with anticipation as the glass slowly slides away, the view of the landscape sharpening. I hop out, the gravity normal, my feet cushioned by the grasslike plants beneath me. The sky shimmers with an odd mix of vivid colors, and the soft light from two suns dances in lens-flare patterns through the glass on the ship’s open door.
I gaze hungrily toward the mountains in the distance, then glance around for the rushing river that’s apparently just a few leagues away. I can just barely make out the roar of the water as I check my canteen—half-empty. It looks like a visit to the river is in order, so I can stock up on supplies and see what kind of food this new landscape offers before I trek out into the total unknown.
With a soft blip, I load up the menu on my wristlet, the display beaming up a holo of light orange text on a darkened background.
CLASS FOUR PLANET [ESTIMATED]
Status: Uncharted, Undiscovered
Life Support Capability: Positive
Detectable Resources: Timber, Water
Would you like to claim and name this planet?
[YES] [NO]
My heart races, and I feel warm all over. I’ve been waiting for that last option since I started exploring this galaxy. And a Class Four? Awesome. Not going to run and gun it—I’m going to take my time here, do things right.
With a wave of my hand, a keypad appears in the air above my wrist. But before I can decide on a name for my new planet, static rings in my ear. A flicker of worry runs through me as I adjust the small earpiece tucked inside. Did someone else land on the planet? Communication from my guild at our headquarters?
A more hopeful thought occurs to me. Maybe a supply vessel is in the area, which would be perfect. I could use some building material, maybe some food supplies until I figure out what I can and can’t use—
Then the static breaks, and the sound comes in clear.
“The planet,” a familiar voice says. “Name it Butts.”
* * *
I put my controller down and turn around to see my six-year-old sister, Mira, standing behind me, her hands over her mouth, eyes sparkling, a surefire fit of giggles set to explode. She hops back and forth on her feet, her curly black hair bouncing with her frantic, silly movements. I take my headset off, the music from my exploration-meets-real-time-strategy game, Reclaim the Sun, quickly replaced by the sound of Mira’s irrepressible laughter.