Symbolically Stained

[Lochrath]

Leeds - 828 A.S.

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A misconception believed by the populations trapped on one of the many planetary bodies within the houses is that space travel was thrilling. Being in space was somehow the next frontier, a tangled mesh of nebulas and anomalies just out there to see and witness. While space was a view seen by a small percentage, it was by no means glorious.

Sirius was lucky in terms of being rich in nebulas, which stained the otherwise black canvass various hues from the whites and blues of the Barrier to the orange and yellows of the Walker. However, being born into such colourful skies dulls the impact of them. The inhabitants of Cambridge have seen the same night skies as the generations before them, even though the Barrier tears through like a long forgotten scar and the Walker nebula leaks out it's orange glow like a distant iridescent street light. It was the same. It was the expected.

Space flight was like that. When one first begins on a ship it seems like the most wonderful thing. However most only get to travel through space on cramped bulk passenger ships without so much as a view of what you're traveling through. If lucky enough to have a viewport that wasn't scratched or fogged, you would often only see a blur of colour as the ship rockets forward at cruise speeds. Worse yet if frequent trade lanes are taken.

These were the thoughts floating around the head of Riley Shaw as she strolled through amber lit corridors. She found this aspect of space flight entirely mundane. Simply moving from one place to another. There was nothing fancy about it and often times automatic navigation took care of the nuances of maneuvering through the void. Every aspect was optimized. Every aspect was so dreadfully monotonous.

At the end of the narrow passageway was two metal sliding doors, both in their closed positions. They sat staring at one another on opposing walls, the shared cornering wall housing a display describing what each lead to. To Shaw's left was the lower engine bay, to the right the switch back stairs leading upwards. Behind her was the observation platform, a meeting room with wide viewports. Such was where she came from, watching the Voids flow past.

She picked the left door, a touch of her hand letting it slide open with a hush of hydraulics. The humid air smacked her in the face as it always did, arresting her breath for a moment. She strolled in with a watery blink. The bay was alive, though there wasn't sight of a soul. She, however, already cracked this puzzle long before. As she avoided work cases and piles of piping her destination was the distant crook around the walled pipes and tubes that fed a massive coolant engine below. There she found what she was looking for.

"Nik'! What are you hiding for?" She beamed out. A figured hunched over a makeshift table jumped and let out a slew of curses.

Niklas Esser was the head engineer and looked all the part for it. A long grim face, short cropped brown hair that one could easily mistake as black framing high cheekbones clad in a thin beard. He wore olive overalls, a connecting jacket of the same colour slung over the corner of his desk. His cream coloured undershirt was damp with sweat. Esser glowered at Shaw.

"I'm working. Something you hardly do." He snapped back. Wells gave a mocking look of surprise and outrage which quickly turned to a grin afterwards.

She turned and leaned on his setup. The table was actually a discarded sliding door like she entered through. This one however was bent and scratched, allowing it to be retired to table top status. "You know I'm sidelined at times like these. What, you want me to look over my ship for the seventh time?" She pouted.

"Yes." Grumbled the engineer, attempting to get back to work. He quickly realized, as normal, Shaw wasn't going to let him get away that easily.

She picked up a screwdriver to play with, twirling it in her hands. "What are you doing in here anyway?" She asked, trying to make sense of his project.

On the table was what appeared to be a cube a foot in all dimensions. Half of said cube was opened like a box, inside were vials of murky brown liquid. It looked like a method to store some type of liquid. "Project for the captain."

"Was is it?"

"None of your business."

"Oh come on Nik'!" Shaw whined.

He pushed the cube aside, looking at her directly. "Are you just bored and here to irritate me?" He growled, annoyed now.

"Yah." Her reply surprised Esser. Normally there was more word play and dancing around the subject. His reaction caught her attention, she attempted to smooth it over.

"We're going There."

Realization crossed his face, a silent "Oh" made. Project forgotten, he turned and retrieved his metal stool which was toppled and abandoned until now. He set it upright and sat on it, the welds creaking with a whine at his weight.

"And what's wrong with that?" Esser asked her.

She shrugged. "It's well known I hate it."

"And?" He pressed.

Shaw's lips pursed. She considered her reply. "Nobody else cares when I say that. It's expected to hate it. But they don't care. It's that lack of... Of something that makes the whole thing excused."

"Lack of empathy?" Shaw nodded to Esser's guess.

He sighed and checked his time piece on the table. It would be ten standard minutes before they arrived. Grunting, he stood up and shoo'd her off the table and out of the way. Gathering his jacket and letting it hang in his hand, he led her back the way she came, out the door and right, along the long corridor to the observation platform.

A few others had gathered, standing by the ports to gaze out. A murky orange-brown haze slipped by, engulfing the view past a few meters. It was steadily clearing like a lifting fog. The duo took an empty spot to look out. The clouds cleared slowly revealing a dull sandy sphere. As time passed it grew slightly and details revealed themselves. Scars and impact craters coated portions while wild storms of soot, ash, and radioactive waste swirled and danced over a third of it. A barren storm torn planet. This was Planet Leeds.

The planet used to be home to billions of Bretonian civilians, an ecumenopolis of industry and one of the major backbones of the Kingdom of Bretonia. Only recently had the war ended with the Kingdom of Gallia who had enacted a scorched earth policy of devastating proportions as they retreated. Using massive planet cracking lasers, the planet was devastated. It was often referred as the "Glassing of Leeds" by those who were looking for a fight due to how handwavy the term came to be to the countless lost lives.

And here was the remains. A soft chime warned them to hold on, a moment later everyone on the deck lurched slightly. The view outside had stopped growing, they were still in space.

Shaw bit her lip as she gazed at the dead world. Esser wrapped an arm around her shoulder, a short squeeze. He looked down at her, expecting the normal sorrow displayed by the Bretonians after the calamity. Instead, once again surprising him, there was a flame of hatred in them. His tug tightened.

After ten minutes passed, a chime rung again. A lurch and the view outside swiveled, the smoggy clouds beginning to eat them whole once again. Esser and Shaw stayed at the window for a while after that.

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