NO STARS ABOVE THEM | PART 1

[TRANSCRIPTION]

[7:15 AM | 09.03.3225 | PHONE CALL INITIATED | K&P Telecom Company S/A | DSSP]

VOICE 2: "Hey, you’re up early. What’s going on?"

VOICE 1: "Morning. Yeah, I’m up because I have to drag the boys across the state to their dad’s place. Lucky me, right?"

VOICE 2: "Oh, no, you’re doing the handoff this weekend? I thought you had plans."

VOICE 1: "I did have plans. I was supposed to meet up with some friends for brunch, but nope, here I am, about to spend my Saturday arguing with Favo over seat belts and begging Kalene not to spill juice in the back seat."

VOICE 2: "Ouch. Can’t he come pick them up for once?"

VOICE 1: "Ha! As if. You know, he said something about being 'too busy' this weekend. Probably means sitting on the couch and watching football all day. Meanwhile, I get to play chauffeur."

VOICE 2: "You sound thrilled."

VOICE 1: "Oh, ecstatic. And, of course, Favo has already decided he doesn’t want to go. He’s been stomping around all morning, muttering about how boring his dad’s house is."

VOICE 2: "He’s a teenager. Complaining is his job."

VOICE 1: "It’s like having a tiny, angrier version of myself arguing with me constantly. And Kalene's no help either; he just sides with whoever he thinks is winning the argument."

VOICE 2: [Laughing] "Survival of the fittest. You’ll survive."

VOICE 1: "Barely. I just wish I didn’t have to do this every single time. It’s not even about the drive; it’s about the principle. Like, why am I the only one putting in the effort?"

VOICE 2: "Because you’re the mom. Moms always get stuck with the hard stuff."

VOICE 1: "Lucky me. Anyway, I guess it’s just one of those things. I’ll drop them off, put on a fake smile, and then drive five hours back to… well, to nothing. A quiet, empty house. Thrilling."

VOICE 2: "You could always use the quiet to catch up on sleep. Or, you know, binge that show I told you about."

VOICE 1: "Maybe. If I don’t fall asleep at the wheel first. [Pause] By the way, what’s up with the weather? Didn’t they say it was supposed to be sunny today?"

VOICE 2: "Yeah, clear skies, warm temps—finally! Why? What’s it like over there?"

VOICE 1: "Foggy. Or cloudy? I don’t even know. There’s this grayish haze, like the suns forgot to show up. And it’s freezing. I had to scrape frost off my windshield this morning. In March!"

VOICE 2: "Weird. Maybe it’s one of those freak weather things. Don’t let it bother you."

VOICE 1: "I’m not bothered, I’m just… annoyed, I guess. Like, can’t one thing go according to plan today?"

VOICE 2: "Hey, it’s early. You’ve got plenty of time for things to get worse."

VOICE 1: [Laughing] "Thanks for the pep talk. Anyway, I should probably get going. The boys are too quiet, which means they’re either plotting something or already fighting. Wish me luck."

VOICE 2: "Good luck. And call me when you get there, okay?"

VOICE 1: "Will do. Bye."

[7:26 AM | PHONE CALL ENDED]

[Transcription of Fighter Launch, Recorded Audio Log]

Kolel Station Hangar Bay, Expanse's Udeqera Fleet
Timestamp: [REDACTED]

[Ambient sounds of machinery, faint alarms in the background, hydraulic tools clanking. A voice cuts in over the pilot's comms.]

Hangar Operator: "Control to Fighter-12, you're cleared to power up. Mission details to follow in transmission package upon departure. Confirm readiness for launch."

Pilot: "Copy that, powering up now. [grunting faintly] Seat's locked. Reactor switch, on. Gyroscope——"
[click]——"aligned. Life support online. M-AM Reactor pressure nominal... uh, one sec…"
[gritting teeth] "Damn it… Armament still flagging on the board… ah, there it goes… Confirmed, loaded. Requesting expedited verification on pre-flight diagnostics."

Hangar Operator: "Expediting. Starting verification sequence now… Standby."

[In the background, the muffled hum of the ship’s systems powering up grows louder. Hydraulic pistons hiss as the fighter’s wings unfold from docked position.]

Pilot: "Look, Control, I've got twenty different warnings flashing at me and no context on what the hell we’re flying into. Are we talking debris? Pirate raiders? Asteroid collision? What am I walking into, here?"

Hangar Operator: "Fighter-12, you're mission-coded for reconnaissance. No confirmed hostile presence. Orders are to proceed to Point Amskal and—"

Pilot: "Amskal? Wait, that’s in the damn shadow of Koshazat. That’s… Hold on… That’s on the opposite side from any—"

Hangar Operator: "Negative. We're aware of location. No other intel available from Auot’zae Fleet Command."

Pilot: "No other… You’ve gotta be kidding me. And we’re flying blind?"

Hangar Operator: "Recon, Fighter-12. That’s why we’re sending you. Orders are straight from Auot’zae high command. No other units are close enough."

[A low beeping sound signals the end of the verification sequence.]

Hangar Operator: "Pre-flight diagnostics complete. You're yellow across the board. Launch tube is pressurized. Cleared for departure. Gate Two is prepped for you."

Pilot: "Great. So I’m just… What? Eyeballing it if I run into anything? Amskal’s gone dark… What about the trade outpost nearby? They’ve got auxiliary comms—"

Hangar Operator: "Outpost status is negative. No comms for over an hour. Repair crews dispatched, also unresponsive. You’re one of four fighters being deployed. You’ll rendezvous en route and proceed together. Your nav should sync with the wing once you're out of Udequera's gravity well."

Pilot: "[muttering] Four… Four… That’s half the patrol I’d expect. What the hell is going on here? Look, are we even sure this isn’t another Underworld raid? If it’s pirates, fine, but if I’m getting into something heavier—"

Hangar Operator: "There is no confirmation of hostile activity, Fighter-12. Standard recon protocols apply. Identify threats, broadcast cease-fire warnings, neutralize only if directly engaged."

Pilot: "Standard recon protocols, right. Like that ever means anything in the Underworld. [sighs heavily] Fine, fine… Spooling engines now."

[The faint whine of thrusters rising in pitch fills the comms.]

Hangar Operator: "Throttle reads stable. Final check on inertial dampeners and main thrusters… Standby."

[A soft beep follows. Another pause.]

Hangar Operator: "Throttle confirmed stable. Gate Two opened. Proceed to launch position at 10 percent thrust."

Pilot: "Acknowledged. Moving out now."

[The sound of distant thrusters firing fades into static. A soft metallic clank signals the fighter detaching from its docking clamps.]

Pilot: "Hey, Control… Seriously, nothing else? You’ve got nothing for me?"

Hangar Operator: "Negative, Fighter-12. Orders were issued minutes ago. Same briefing package you’ve got is all we’ve got. [pauses briefly] Look… Good luck out there."

Pilot: "[Softly] Yeah… Than̞͂͟ḱ̹͝s̨͔̊.̼̉͜ ̱̻̌̿́͜Sͬͧ͏̝̙͟ȩ̤̪ͣ̊͢ê̵̛͍̾ͅ ̢̌́̾̕҉̖͈̻yͫ̎̀͏͏̸̪̜̠ơ̷̧̠̞̻͑̏̓u̸̪̮̖̅̎̓͡͡ ̡̛͚̰͍͒̉̿ͩ̀̕ͅȏ̷̜̹̤͎̍ͨͬ͜͜͡n̵͔̺̘̘̽̎̃̿̕͝͠ ̢̛̩̥̰͚͐ͪ̾̆͟͡t̴̡̔̒̀ͯ́̀͏͏̞̟̼͈̝h̶̪͍͉͉͚̅ͥ͗ͫ̓͢͜͞͞ē̷ͨͫ̂̚͘͘͞҉̺̩͖͈͚ ̴̴̷̳͙͍̭̝ͣͤ̈ͪ̈́̀ǫ̢̢̡͔̙̠̱̱ͩͧͦ̔ͨ͊̕͞ͅt̴̒̈́̏̓̆̈́҉̴͚̗̗̜̗͉̕͢h̴̡̧͔̹̝̫͚̱̾̓͑̌ͥ͂̕̕͟e̶̡̛̮͇̩̘̙͈̍͛͂͊ͬ̽́͘͝r̵ͬ̽̑ͥ͐̌́͜͢҉͞͝͏̼̭̦̣̟͕̱ ̨̡̻̙̰̰̜̩̥͊͛ͮ͋͛ͮ̍́̀̕͢͜s̨̡͈̯̲̜͎̥͈͗̿̓̓̌̇̉̀͢͢͟͠ĩ̶̡͎̗̞̜̯͎͓̃͒̅́ͧ̚̕̕͜͠͞d̶̵̢̧͍̻̙̯̺͎̱̥̔͒ͫ̓͒̈ͨ̏̀͡͠͡e̿͛ͩ̌ͩͣ̃̈́́̀͢͝͏͠͏̶͔̳̦͙̣̹͉̲.̶̷̷̡̢̺͉̥͙͔̖̦͕ͯͣ́̎́ͣ̂́̚͠͡"

[Increasing roar as the fighter’s engines ignite for launch. The comms go quiet except for a faint echo of the afterburners as Fighter-12 leaves Kolel Station.]

[LOG ENDED]