#Dread Pirate Mizar

[toothpastecanyon]

Martha Of WEFIDS, Chapter 4

The Dread Pirate Mizar, and the little girl who would grow up to become her.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

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It was small, but weighty. Sharpened from a lumpy shard of fuselage, it fit awkwardly in Martha’s hand; the blade’s short and stubby heel would cut into her fingers if she didn’t hold it just right. When she looked at it, a constellation of reflected light along its crude edge would glint at her, glare at her, remind her of all the stars she couldn’t see anymore and all the people who had been ripped from her… and whose fault that was.

Martha gripped her knife a little tighter, and her fingers hurt. The knife hurt, holding it hurt… and she liked how she could take the pain.

She liked feeling strong. She liked feeling right.

And in a world that wanted to tell her she was doing things wrong, wanted to weaken her with shitty little ‘It’s okay’s and ‘you can talk to me’s, her knife cut through the bullshit.

Her knife said no.

Her knife said be angry.

Her knife said don’t you ever forget.

“Martha?” A call from the living room. “Are you coming? I’ve got something exciting planned for our lesson today - I think you’re gonna love it!”

Martha gripped her knife a little tighter, and her knife said you can make them pay.

She let herself feel that for a moment longer, then with a sigh she stuffed it into a knot in her shawl and crouched down in front of her bed. Lifting up the sheets, she revealed a ragged hole she’d cut in the mattress; she stuck her hands in and rifled through the various items stashed within.

A broken-off blaster handle? No, she didn’t need that… The pipe? No, she couldn’t hide that without a school bag. The lighters were tempting, but she was running low and she didn’t want Alcor confiscating yet another one of them.

She came across her pencils, and pressed down on each tip with a finger before pulling out the one that felt the sharpest. She still hadn’t found what she was really looking for, though; with a frown, she pushed further into the fabric, past all the various odds and ends, until her fingers latched onto something hard, and leathery, and already so familiar.

Carefully, Martha extracted her sketchbook and hugged it to her chest. She kept a tight grip as she stood up, pulled the sheets down over her stash, and with a foot swept all the mattress stuffing that had fallen out under the bed.

There, nice and hidden. She rose, and made her way to the door. Alcor was there when she opened it, wearing a wide smile she was starting to warm to.

“Morning, Martha.” He extended a hand. “Have you ever been to a Moon?”

“Uhh, which moon?” Martha frowned. “WEFIDS has like two hundred moons. I think there used to be more before the UL coremined-”

Alcor waved his hand. “It’s- it’s a cool moon, okay! You’ll see! Come on!”

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Alcor remembered the first time he saw alien life on another world. It called to him once while he was between reincarnations; up in the sky, amongst the stars… something was tickling at his senses. It was strange, faint, like a sort of background hum he could barely make out amongst all of Earth’s many, many souls. He wandered past the moon’s orbit to investigate, and found the crackling loudest around Saturn’s moon, Enceladus.

It was strange. And when he floated closer, that strangeness turned to wonder, because there was life on that moon.

Very small, microscopic life, to be sure. And covered over with kilometer-thick crust of ice that insulated them from the rest of the universe, but life, real alien life! He hadn’t felt that giddy at a discovery since… well, probably since he was a kid with Mabel.

And if that memory could still make an old, cynical demon like him smile, maybe Martha would like it, too. He even remembered to blip her in with a spacesuit on - and what the heck, he could put one on as well. He felt his bulky boots hit the ground, and grinned down at her.

“Now how about this!”

“Uh, how about what?” Martha tried to lift her legs. “What kind of fucking shitty space suits are these? They’re huge!”

“You know, for so much of human history, they could only dream of walking on another world like this. I never thought I’d get the chance, growing up.” He raised his foot, and smiled at the print. “But here we are. One small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind.”

In the corner of his eye, he could see Martha shooting him a look. Right, focus.

“Uh, anyway, do you know why I brought you here?”

“You said we were doing biology today.” She looked around, and then shrugged. “I dunno. Biology is about life stuff. Do you want me to say it doesn’t look like there’s life stuff around here, and then you’ll say-”

“You’re right, it doesn’t look like there’s anything growing around here!” He motioned to the starry sky. “There’s not even an atmosphere! If we - well, you - took your spacesuit off, you’d die in minutes! So why have we come here to study biology?”

“Because there’s life somewhere, I guess?”

“Exactly! Humans used to think life could only exist in very, very narrow circumstances - in the goldilocks zone of a very specific star, in the warm waters of a planet exactly like Earth. They theorised that life on other planets was rare… or maybe even unique. After all, how many times could the circumstances line up just right?”

With a massive grin, Alcor pressed his middle finger and thumb together. “But as the saying goes,” he said. “Life, uh, finds a way.”

Snap. Martha lurched as everything started to speed up. The stars shifted around them, and then a massive gas giant slowly rolled into view, its wispy atmosphere catching the distant light of a blue star.

“For life to form, it first needs energy. That doesn’t need to come from a star; look at that planet! Every orbit, its tidal forces pull and push on this moon, churning up its core.” Alcor bent down, and grabbed a chunk of ice. “Do you see this? It’s water, it’s frozen water. Down, deep down beneath the crust, it heats up enough to melt, to mix with minerals, to create…”

With a wave of his hand, a section of the ice became clear as glass. Martha stared down, down into a still black sea, and saw… lights. Moving lights. Bubbles. If she looked closely, she could make out the shapes of strange creatures cutting through the water.

“Life,” Alcor breathed. Then he chuckled. “Big life, too. Mostly they’re just little single celled organisms, but they’ve got a whole ecosystem going on down there.”

“Yeah…”

“And you know, it’s funny, because this is all they’ll ever know. Nothing they’ll evolve into will ever be able to get to the surface: the ice is too thick. That water, that darkness, that’s all they’ll ever know. Everything above that - the warmth of a sunbeam, the breeze in your hair, the vastness of your universe… They’ll never have any idea, any conception of its existence. How could they?”

Martha looked up at him. He looked down at her, and smiled, coldly.

“And humans like you? Stars… you’d look like gods to them.” He showed his teeth. “Or demons.”

Martha stared back at him with an unimpressed expression. “I don’t think so. You just said it was dark down there. Why would they evolve eyes if there’s nothing to see?”

“That’s not - I didn’t mean they’d literally look at you, I meant-” He blinked. “Wait. You know about evolution?”

“Yeah?” She looked at him like he was dumb. “You told me about it last week. Why are you looking at me like that?”

Alcor could barely contain his massive grin. “Nothing, just… good job, Martha! You’re doing so well!”

“What, you think I wasn’t paying attention?”

That defiant edge to her voice - maybe he shouldn’t have called attention to it. He gave a cough.

“No, uh… hey, how about a break! As a treat for being such a good student today.” He clapped his hands together. “You can go anywhere in the univer-”

“Can we go back to that volcano?”

“Huh?”

“The one you threw my textbook into. Then we burned stuff in the lava.” Martha grinned. “That was fun.”

Alcor opened his mouth, but he thought better than to argue - besides, he did tell her to pick anywhere in the universe, and she certainly knew where she wanted to go. He didn’t remember exactly what volcano he’d brought her to on their first lesson - and he didn’t want to probe his omniscience to find it - so he picked one in the nearest habitable star system and blipped them over with a thought. As soon as Martha was out of her bulky space suit she looked around, and then frowned.

“This isn’t the same place.”

“Oh, yeah, I chose a volcano, but if you wanted to burn something this works just as well-”

“I want to go back to the same volcano.” She crossed her arms. “You told me anywhere in the universe, I want to go there!”

“But-” Alcor stopped himself, and then sighed. “Okay, sorry. I was being lazy; just give me a second and I’ll find which volcano exactly we were at before.”

He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. As he turned his mind inward, he could hear Martha’s voice somewhere to the side of him.

“It was a bigger volcano, and it was full of lava! It was so cool - this one barely even has any lava.”

“Yes,” Alcor said, distantly.

“And the other one was in the middle of all these mountains and trees, not all these buildings! This looks like the military base back on WEFIDS Alpha.”

He almost had it. He could remember the planet - now, he just had to find the right volcano, since Martha was so insistent on that.

“They built the WEFIDS base by a volcano too- my dad said once the geothumb made it harder to sabotage, or something? Whatever. Are we going yet?”

Aha! That’s the one. Alcor took her hand, and smiled. “Yes, we are. Sorry, what were you saying just now?”

“I was saying this volcano is obviously some kind of UL base.” Martha pointed to the black walls surrounding the volcano, the red lights flashing on a tower rising out of the center of the crater. There was an alarm going off in a fortress-like building lower down the slope. “I’ve heard that sound before. We should go.”

Alcor’s eyes bugged out. “We’re in a military base?!”

Martha gave him a look, but before she could speak again, there was a voice from across the crater.

“Hold it right there!”

Two men with plasma rifles pointed at them. Alcor saw Martha stiffen, and moved in front of her.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down!”

“Don’t move! Put your hands up!” They stopped a distance from them. “This is a highly secure military facility! Who are you two and how the hell did you get in here?”

Alcor gave a guilty grin. “Uh, we were sightseeing?”

“Oh, a smartass, I see.” One of the soldiers advanced. “We’ll see how clever you feel back at base. Turn around.”

Alcor tried to reach for Martha, but his arm was caught and twisted behind his back. “Ow! Hey, wait, we were just leaving-”

“Leaving? Hah! You’re not going anywhere, you little- Agh!”

The soldier’s grip loosened, and Alcor turned around to see Martha on him, shoving at his hip and stabbing him with a jagged little blade.

“Get away from him!” She held on as he staggered back, and bit his arm as he tried to shove her away. “I hate you! I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!”

“Martha!”

“Gah!” The soldier gestured frantically to the other one. “What are you doing?! Shoot her already!”

Cold fear rushed through Alcor. He dived in front of Martha and they were out of there before the soldier even pulled the trigger. They landed back at home; Martha hit the carpet and was up in a flash, backing into a corner, holding the blade with white knuckles and looking around the room with wild eyes.

“Leave us alone!” Blood had coated one arm up to the elbow; it dripped onto the carpet from her trembling hands. “I won’t let you take him away from me again!”

“Martha!” Alcor jumped up, and put his hands up as she turned the blade on him. “Hey, it’s okay! We’re home, you’re safe!”

“I’ll kill you!” Her little chest was heaving as she pressed herself into a corner. “You come one step closer and I’ll rip your guts out, UL scum!”

Alcor stayed still, silent. He watched her shake her head, watched tears spring to her eyes; she furiously tried to wipe them away but they kept coming until she dropped the knife and crumpled into a ball. He came over to her then and she latched onto him and sobbed into her shoulder, and he just held her. He just held her.

“Hey,” he said, softly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Martha.”

“I-I-” Martha grabbed fistfuls of his suit. “H-he was coming a-at you, he was g-gonna…”

“I know.” Alcor rubbed her back. “I know, that was really scary. But I’m okay, okay? I’m a demon. He couldn’t have hurt me, I promise.”

“Mom. D-Dad. Th-they k-ki-illed them.” He felt her go stiff as a board; her nails dug into his skin. “Th-they killed them. I’ll never f-forgive them. Never.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. There was something by his foot; the jagged little blade, caked with blood, glinting ominously up at him as Martha kept going.

“The fucking UL - I’ll get ba-ack at them. If it’s the last thing I do, I-I’ll get back at them all. They can all die for what they did to me.”

“Martha-”

“They can all die.” She pushed off him suddenly, and stared him down with burning eyes. His own dipped down to the blade again; she followed it, then darted forwards and snatched it up. “That’s mine.”

Alcor frowned. “Martha-”

“It’s mine!”

Clutching it to her chest, she ran back to her bedroom and slammed the door closed behind her. Alcor thought about following, but stopped himself almost immediately. She made it obvious when she wanted to be alone, and it wouldn’t help things to try and talk to her now.

His face twisted into a grimace as he glanced down the hall, and then away. Yes, he thought, grimly. Because he was supposed to be helping her, not dragging her to a military base to get guns pointed at her.

With a sigh, he slumped down in a chair and put his head in his hands.

For a moment, he almost thought he was doing a good job. What an idiot he was.

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Bumps in the road. The next few weeks were rough; Martha hardly came out of her room, and she certainly did not feel like doing another lesson anytime soon. The only time he really saw her was in the night, when she’d stalk into the living room, park herself on the couch, and sullenly listen to him talk about Mizars until she fell asleep. Alcor was surprised she still wanted that at first, but she’d looked at him like he was stupid when he asked, and he certainly wasn’t going to complain about the one time of the day she wanted to be in the same room as him.

Some nights, when she fell asleep, Alcor could see she was clutching that small blade to her chest. He didn’t like looking at that thing - there was a darkness in it, a malevolence that washed over him every time he saw the glint of it. He couldn’t take it from her, though; she gripped it tight, and if he so much as touched it she’d be awake and back in her bedroom in a flash.

So, he let it go. He let the days be cold and lonely, let the nights stretch on and on after Martha went to bed. He let his mind wander back to the Mizars he’d known long ago, and he’d wonder what they’d say to him, now.

But he didn’t know. He didn’t remember the sound of their voices; it had been such a long time ago. The only person Martha had in this universe was him, and he needed to figure this out.

He’d planned to knock on her door this morning, but to his surprise, Martha came to him.

“Can we go somewhere?” She said. As always, she looked annoyed at his wide-eyed astonishment. “What? I’m bored. You haven’t taken me anywhere in ages.”

“Wh- yes, but- I thought you didn’t want to do that anymore?”

“I didn’t say that!” She crossed her arms. “Fine. If you don’t do school, I’ll just find something else to do. I’m sick of sitting in my room.”

Alcor tried to contain his rush of relief. “No, that’s not- I-I can do school again! Yes! We can go right now!”

“Finally.” She took his hand. “I don’t wanna go to a volcano again. Can we go to a cave? It was cool how echo-y it was.”

And so things settled back down for a while. A long while - a year passed of lessons and Mizar stories and staring up at the stars. A year, and bit by bit, Alcor found himself recognising more of Mizar in Martha.

“Did you see me roll down that hill! Bleh, hair in my mouth!”

“Look, Al, I made my macaroni into a space station!

“Is this snow? Oh my stars, how do you build a snowman again?”

There were bumps along the way, dark days when she locked herself in her room or tore up the house in a fury… but slowly, surely, she was beginning to sound like a child again. Sometimes she smiled at him, and he couldn’t see any bags under her eyes, or lines on her face; all he saw was a bright sparkle, and a little laugh as he hesitated.

“What are you looking at me like that for, Al? Come on!”

And he’d smile back, and follow her lead.

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“So this is my idea for today!” Martha pushed her eggs around her plate; she was hungry, but she was too busy talking to eat. “I know we’re learning trigonometry, but hear me out - we should go back to the snow planet! I think that’d really help me learn: I can, uh, draw triangles in the snow! And then we can do another igloo!” She leaned her chair back to grin at him. “How does that sound, Al? Alcor?”

Alcor was standing at the counter, wearing a distant expression that wiped the smile from her face. She knew what that meant; he was getting a summons.

“Alcor?” Martha said again, and watched him carefully. After a moment, he frowned, rubbed his forehead, and turned to look somewhere over her shoulder.

“What did you say,” he said, but before she could respond: “Agh, sorry, kid, I’m getting…. summons, pretty strong. I think we’ll have to put off the quiz.”

“Oh noo,” Martha ate some egg. “Thatsh okay. I can do shome drawing.”

He managed a smile. “Thanks, kid. I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay? Love you.”

Martha didn’t say it back, but she did look up and smile at him. He waved and disappeared, and the smile turned distinctly mischievous. She looked down at her plate, then stood up from her chair and snuck into the pantry.

A minute later, she was in her room with all the candy Alcor thought he’d put on a high enough shelf. Martha’s bedroom was a messy little haven, filled with toys and blankets and mementos from all the places they’d been to: on the shelves were rocks and shells from the beach, asteroids plucked from outer space, ancient bones and glowing crystals. There was also a little locked chest in the corner; after so many ruined mattresses Alcor had come home with it and said:

“Whatever you put in here, I promise I won’t go through it, okay? Just… please stop hiding stuff in your mattress. Especially the lighters.”

Martha opened it now, and picked out a lighter, flicked it on, grinned at the flame. Then she tossed it back in and drew out a sketchbook and pencil. She flipped to the last page, and let herself smile at the half-finished drawing of a snowman she’d made yesterday.

That was fun. She was gonna badger Alcor into taking her back there today, but… Martha frowned. She looked around the room, and suddenly, it seemed a lot emptier than it had before. It was quiet, too quiet, and she found herself tensing up, glancing around, looking for walls to put her back against.

Maybe she should go outside.

After stashing her candy in her treasure box, Martha came to the front door and looked outside. A cyclist was passing by, and she stepped back a little, hugged the sketchbook to her chest. Other people… she wasn’t sold on them. Learning to trust Alcor, to get to know all his weird quirks - that was hard enough. She didn’t want to do that again with anyone else, so they could leave her alone and she could leave them alone, and that was just fine.

So she waited for that cyclist to pass, and then, cautiously, she opened the door and headed outside. She didn’t head to the playground just across from them - she’d been banned from that after decking a kid who tried to push her on the swings - but there was a park nearby she liked to sit at sometimes, with picnic benches under tall, green trees that swayed in the wind.

It was like that today, warm and sunny with a gentle cooling breeze. She sat there for a moment, staring up at the sky, and then she started drawing. She’d been working on a little comic strip about a pirate who killed her whole family - Alcor always looked nervous when she showed it to him, but she thought it was really funny.

And that’s where she was, giggling and doodling in her own world, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She startled violently and grabbed someone’s wrist.

“Ow!” Came a voice. “Hey, let go!”

Martha whirled around and glared at a girl her age. She had freckles and long wavy hair and looked vaguely familiar. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“Well I was going to say hi.” The girl glared right back at her as she let go, and rubbed her wrist. “What did you do that for?”

“What did you sneak up on me for?”

“I didn’t sneak up on you! You just weren’t paying attention!”

Martha narrowed her eyes. “Whatever,” she said, and turned away. “Leave me alone.”

“You’re Marta, right?”

“No, Mar-tha.” A pause, and her head shot back around. “How did you know that?”

“You’re the kid who ripped off Mr Ferhin’s beard last year!” She didn’t look scared; she was smirking. “Everyone at school was talking about you. You got expelled, right?”

“Wha- oh.” School. Martha scowled at the memory. “I didn’t rip his beard off! And I didn’t get expelled - I got suspended! I just thought it was too stupid to come back.”

“Yeah, right. You can’t just ‘decide’ not to come back.”

“Yes, I can. And I did. I’m getting homeschooled now.”

“Homeschooled?” The girl made a face. “Trapped inside with your parents lecturing you on everything? Ugh, that sounds like it sucks.”

Martha didn’t know what to say to that. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, and turned back to her book. The girl didn’t leave; she leaned in closer.

“Whatcha drawing? A comic?”

“What do you want?” Martha gave a toothy smile. “You know what I did to Mr Ferhin. I can do that to you, too.”

“What, rip my beard off?” She didn’t look impressed. “You’re right, you probably didn’t do that, did you? You look too scrawny to pull that off.”

“Wha-”

The girl suddenly leaned over her. “Oh. My. Stars. Are you drawing Caat and Wendjy?!”

“Caat and-” Martha blinked. “Who?”

“Caat and Wendjy! From Our Darkest Star!” She beamed at Martha. “That’s my favourite movie! Have you read the books?”

“Uh, no?”

“Oh my stars, if you liked the movie you’ll love the book!” She clasped her hands together. “Two starcrossed lovers, a pirate and a UL captain - their love was never meant to be! I - heh - even wrote a fic where Wendjy becomes a demon; she grows old yet he stays the same! Time and their society tears them apart! Oh, it’s so tragic… but so romantic!”

Martha wrinkled her nose. “You’re weird,” she said, and the girl rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, says the one drawing Wendjy fanart.”

“It’s not-” Something in Martha made her trail off. She just glared at her instead.

“You draw really well, though!” The girl grinned back. “If you wanna read the book, I’ll lend you my copy! I’ve already gotta hide it from my dad - he hates the series, it’s so funny!”

“I used to cut holes in my mattress.” She said. “No one looks in there.”

“Hah! Well, when he starts looking harder, maybe I’ll have to do that!” Still giggling, the girl pushed herself up from the desk. “Well, I should get to plasmaball practice, but it was cool to meet you!”

“What was your name?”

“Oh! Sorry, it’s Cjacy!” She waved. “See you around, Martha! Byyyyee!”

And she was gone, leaving Martha to wonder what had even happened. That was pretty much everything she hated in quick succession - people sneaking up on her, touching her, touching her stuff, going off on long weird tangents about things she didn’t care about, but….

She didn’t hate that, actually.

And now that she was gone, Martha found herself wondering if she really meant it when she said she’d ‘see her around.’ She looked back at the picnic table, and felt a sort of squeezing in her chest at how empty it was. When was Alcor gonna come back? She hoped soon - she kind of just wanted to talk to somebody.

Martha looked one last time back at where Cjacy had been, and frowned to herself. Then she looked back at her sketchbook, and kept drawing.

[feferipeixes]

My Reflection

The Dread Pirate Mizar doesn't like the person she sees watching from the mirror.

Inspired by TAU-tober day 1: “Mirror” (yes I’m a few days late for this one). If you don’t know who the Dread Pirate Mizar is, I highly recommend Hadley and the Pirate (and the Demon)!

(AO3 link)

===

The Dread Pirate Mizar slammed the door as hard as she possibly could with an injured hand.

From the other side, she could hear the other pirates muttering to one another, with the occasional laugh thrown in. She closed her hands into tight fists at the sound, squeezing until she turned red.

“If I find you going through my stuff again,” she’d said, “I will kill you. I will literally kill you. Do you think I’m joking? Do you want to find out?”

Exhale and unclench. Martha’s legs began to feel like jelly, so she slid down the door until her butt hit the floor. It was cold and hard, just like the rest of the stars-forsaken ship she’d stolen.

“Maybe you are joking.” The pirate in her memory didn’t have a face anymore, just a sneering kick to his tone. “Maybe you shouldn’t get to sleep in the captain’s quarters if you’re keeping stuff like this in there.”

Her eyes landed on the wooden chest across the room, still open from when she’d found a couple of those idiots rifling through it. She really should’ve invested in a lock for it, but... Her crew was supposed to respect her. Her crew was supposed to fear her. That’s what made her a good captain.

A real pirate’s booty was made out of gold and jewelry. A real pirate didn’t also collect children’s toys.

“Am I right?” he’d announced to the pirates behind him. He held the spoils of his conquest high in the air -- a brown, stuffed bear. “Would you trust a leader who has this in her quarters?”

She didn’t know why she’d taken it. It was just… lying there, on the floor of that space station they’d cannibalised -- FLEVPIT or something. She stood over it, blaster in one hand, a massive diamond in the other, her clothes spattered with civilian blood, and she felt its presence imposing on the edges of her mind.

“So that’s how it is, eh?” Her voice had been low and steady, because she knew that the element of surprise was her greatest ally. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

It didn’t make her like... her. It didn’t mean she was going soft. It was just a stupid bear, and she -- she was still the Dread Pirate Mizar.

In one swift motion, she’d slammed her elbow into the pirate’s neck. He went down hard, face first, into the metal floor. Immediately, she was on him, pinning his torso as best she could while fending off his flailing limbs. Teeth closed down on her hand with a sickening crunch, sending pain shooting through her body, but it didn’t even elicit a grunt from Mizar. It only fueled her wrath.

She didn’t go for his face or for his chest or any of the other obvious weak points. She went straight for the bear. The bear, whose head she tore off, sending thread and stuffing everywhere. The bear, into which she plunged her good hand, and pulled out a long, sharp knife. The bear, which was tossed aside as the knife pressed up against the traitor’s throat.

“Does it look like I’m kidding?” the captain asked.

An hour later, she was still wondering what the answer would’ve been.

Inhaling sharply, Martha picked herself up and walked over to the chest. There were a couple of odds and ends in it -- mostly stuff that she’d seen while looting which didn’t have any monetary value, but which made her feel a weird chocolate-y feeling in her chest, like a volcano overflowing. Stuff like a crude drawing of a boat, and a scarf that said WEFDIS, a brick with a heart shaped soot imprint on it, and the bear.

There was a mirror hanging next to the chest, but Martha couldn’t stand to face it. She knew what it was going to say, knew what she looked like by virtue of collecting this garbage. She knew what he’d say if he knew.

When she finally looked up, it wasn’t her face that gazed back at her. It was hers, that blasted face in Alcor’s stupid photographs -- the original, true Mizar. That face, burned into Martha’s memory from staring at it while Alcor droned on and on about how wonderful she was, how loving and strong and perfect she was, how Martha and that face were one and the same.

She remembered the bile rising in her throat and her fingers tightening on the scrapbook; remembered the shadow that crossed his features when she’d asked if there were any Mizars who weren’t in the book. He’d told her not to worry about that. He’d told her he loved her so much and that he’d never let anything bad happen to her. He’d told her she was destined to do great things with her life, because She always did.

And for days that word “always” danced around in her head, always always always always, because it was never always, with these things. There were bound to be gaps. There were bound to be screwups like her who couldn’t live up to that bloody demon’s expectations no matter how hard she tried.

Mabel’s reflection smiled at her. “But you don’t really want to be a pirate, do you? You’re better than this. All of this hatred is killing you. The light in your soul is too bright.”

“Shut up,” Martha spat.

“You can still go back.” The reflection reached forward, as if to rest a hand on her shoulder. “You can still forgive him. Your story can still have a happy ending.”

“SHUT UP!” Mizar roared, and threw the brick at the mirror. “I will never be Mabel Pines!”

The face shattered into a million pieces. Glass fell to the floor in a cacophony of fury, but Martha wasn’t done -- she could still see the person Alcor saw when he looked at her. She began to stomp her boot on the shards, and bits of it poked through the rubber into her foot but she didn’t care because she needed. To ruin this. For him.

“I’m the Dread Pirate Mizar!” she yelled. “I don’t need toys or friends or love! I’m the most vicious pirate in the universe and I won’t let anyone forget it!”

She was heaving now, and there was a pressure building up behind her eyes that was very much antithetical to what she was saying. Biting her lip, she looked down at the glass; caught sight of her reflection in one of the pieces.

It was her, the real her. It was Martha.

“I won’t let anyone forget it,” she said quietly, and kicked the glass into the corner. “When people hear the name Mizar, they’re going to think of me. Not… her.”

(When she later tossed the toy chest into the airlock and watched it spin out into space, an onlooker would’ve sworn that her eyes were wet. If anyone saw, however, they were wise enough to keep it to themself.)

(AO3 link)

[so-june]

Birthday present for @toothpastecanyon! I love all ur tau ocs too damn much. 

[moonfoxgazer]

Into the Looking Glass

Mialach sits her Lord, Alcor, down for a chat, eventually convincing him to take a look and see that everything will be okay.

Instead he spirals and assumes the worst based on first glance alone.

Part of the @transcendence-au

Read on AO3

Pulling out of a bad period was like being underwater and finally deciding to swim back up and break the surface of the water to take a large, deep breath. It was bursting a cloudy, dirty bubble and finally being able to see once again. It was like waking up after suddenly passing out, the world coming back into focus and thoughts becoming rational once more. There were many other ways Alcor could have described it but those were the main ones that came to mind.

It had only been a day since he reawoke, finding himself drifting in space all alone, his soul aching in a way he had not been ready to completely confront, yet here he was, sitting in the parlor of a building that belonged to the Circle of the Dreamer’s Star, on a far distant planet that was anything but Earth. In his clawed fingers rested a cup of warm and incredibly sweet tea, it was berry flavored, which was nice as it showed just how funny mortals were. Lightyears away from their homeworld and here they were cultivating seeds and plants from it as if nothing had changed despite the fact that everything had changed.

Across from him was a woman, dressed in casual robes now with ashy blonde hair pulled back, nursing her own cup of tea. Mialach, the current leader of the Circle looked beyond tired, with semi permanent bags under her eyes but somehow she functioned despite the fatigue. Well at the moment it may have had something to do with the fact that her Lord had answered the ritual summoning and launched himself at her, sobbing. The memory made Alcor cringe, his nose wrinkling as he recalled it.

Mialach had given him time to recover and gather himself, after all, the Circle needed to clean up from the ritual they had just performed and that was going to take some time, so she let him rest. The resting time had ended when Mialach had walked in carrying the cups of tea as she then sat down on a floor cushion, gesturing for the demon to follow suit.

“So you say that Mizar is back, correct?” Mialach finally broke the ice, setting her teacup down and placing it on the floor in front of herself. Slate blue eyes gazed towards Alcor, taking him in, and the demon was sure that she could see just how anxious he was. “Yet you seem upset about that, conflicted even. I want you to explain it to me before I give my observations.”

Alcor fiddled with the cup in his hands more before he sighed and took a sip, letting the sweet tea wash over his tongue. Letting it settle he went and set the cup down as well and pressed his hands together, gathering his thoughts which were scattered worse than a flock of chickens trying to eat feed. “Well… It’s like I said, Mizar is indeed back…”

“That should be a good thing, I would take it as such, especially given recent and older history.” Mialach remarked, keeping her gaze steady on the demon.

“It. It’s complicated.” Alcor said and rubbed his head, closing his eyes for a long moment as old, painful memories began to dredge up into his consciousness. “For so long you would have been right, Mizar’s return would have been a good thing, great I’m sure. Mortal bonds help me alot and Mizar’s is the best out there.”

“We know. That is what the Cycle speaks of, how you move through ever changing, going from The Beast back to The Star all from mortal bonds. We track it carefully, but we have noticed a discrepancy, a disturbance in the Cycle.” Mialach said to Alcor, calm and collected, weariness on her face, “Hence why I want your perspective first, so as not to sway the conversation, so please, continue and explain to me how Mizar returning is now complicated.”

“I suppose it begets a question then. What do you know of the Dread Pirate Mizar?” Alcor asked, avoiding Mialach’s narrowing gaze as it began to scrutinize the demon. It made him want to squirm with how steady it was and he was already a nervous wreck. Why he hadn’t felt this way since. Well since the Dread Pirate really. Had it been this bad though?

“Yes, we know of her, she was the last Mizar to have emerged, until now that is. You’re dodging my question though my Lord.” The cult leader said, still steady, eyes still narrowed, “If it will encourage you then I will give you a single piece of chocolate from my personal collection. It is real chocolate. I will give it to you after we finish this conversation as I do not feel like getting up at the moment.”

Now that caught Alcor’s attention and he perked up a bit as he then held out his hand, an indication that he was willing to accept Mialach’s proposal, “I can just take it without you moving from your spot, if you’re okay with me doing that-”

Waving her hand a bit with a small sigh, Mialach then placed her hand within Alcor’s looking when the puff of blue flame appeared, signifying that the deal was made, “Go on take it, but now you have to answer my question my Lord, please stop trying to avoid it. I am tired and frankly I don’t have time for this.”

“Fine, fine. Okay.” Alcor remarked then huffed slightly and with a quick wave of his hand he pulled the piece of chocolate out of what seemed to be thin air but in reality was Mialach’s personal collection of chocolate that she kept in her personal chambers within the Circle building. “Oh wow, didn’t think you would live here too. Guess that’s convenient for you.”

“Yes, I live here, because it is indeed convenient and someone really needs to be here at all times and so why not it be the leader? As much as I just love to rattle on about my living situation, you my Lord are once again dodging my earlier question and unless you want this deal to be broken I do suggest you finally give your honest and full answer.” Mialach told Alcor, looking at him, finally reaching to sip her tea again, her gaze like steel as she watched him devour the chocolate and sigh.

“Forgive me, I. This is just incredibly difficult to talk about and part of me just really wants to forget it. I don’t want to remember what happened because it hurts.” Alcor admitted after a moment, a defeated look on his face, though he did flinch a bit when he noticed Mialach’s steely gaze, “The last Mizar, the Dread Pirate, I. I wasn’t there for her like I should have been. I. I tried so hard to help her, to be there for her, but in the end I hurt her beyond compare and it set her down the wrong path.”

“Well, what did you do to cause her to go down the wrong path? You say that you weren’t for her but by how you speak about this, it seems like you were.”Mialach observed, a brow raised.

Pondering his words for a moment, the demon shook his head, “No, I wasn’t there for her when she really needed it, when she needed true guidance. I don’t know why, but there was an incident where she hurt, no, killed someone and instead of being there for her, holding her accountable as she was expecting and wanting, I brushed it off. I wasn’t in my right mind and I don’t know why. However, because of that she. She was understandably furious and felt like I didn’t care about her as a person, only as a thing, which was as far from the truth as ever.”

“That still does not excuse it, my Lord. As hard as it may be to fight the Beast, sometimes you must in order to protect and help the ones you care about. At that time what she needed was someone to push her in the right direction but because you had succumbed to the Beast you brushed off her worry. It probably made her feel like you only cared about what she symbolized, what her soul was instead of the person she herself was at that moment.” Mialach remarked, her head tilted, “Please, if I am wrong, correct me.”

“No, no, you’re not wrong. Actually, if anything, that is terrifyingly correct?” Alcor remarked with a grimace as repressed memories flashed in his head of a lost girl who was scared and crying, blood on her hands and knife in hand. She had just killed a man and had no idea what to do, how to react, and the one person she genuinely trusted and brushed it off as a mere happenstance when really she craved and wanted structure and a reprimand, to be held accountable. Alcor recalled the horrified and appalled look on her face when he had suggested that they run away, hide from the law and then the horror changed to blinding rage and fury as she then invoked his true name and banished him, blotting him out of her life. “I did her wrong, entirely and wholly wrong. Because I was not there for her, did not make her feel like I cared about her as an individual, vice a soul, it set her down the wrong path and I was powerless to do anything about it.”

“Ah, see now that fills in some of the story, though I am still confused, how is it that the Beast emerged when Mizar was present? It is an anomaly that none of the Circle members have been able to figure out. At one point a previous leader decided that it must have been a clerical mistake, but then we checked other histories and they aligned with the story we had recorded.” Mialach explained, finally letting out what had been perplexing her, “It. It did not sit well with us and I am sure you could tell that we did not think that you would even answer us. The Beast during the time of the most destructive and murderous Mizar felt like an ill omen. But, perhaps that will not be the case now, Mizar is back, this is a chance to start anew.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to get involved with Mizar anymore. It’s just. I messed up so badly last time and I am absolutely terrified of what could happen now.” Alcor admitted, his wings drawing closer to his body.

There came a sharp tsk from the leader as she then went and gave the demon a small smack, “Shush, stop with that kind of talk. One, it’s annoying and two, you’re setting yourself up for failure by thinking that way. This is a brand new Mizar, you haven’t even met them yet, so how are you going to know if it’s going to be good or bad? What would Mizar the Gleeful say? What about Mizar the Brave or Mizar the Cunning? Hmm? You are not giving this Mizar a fair chance.”

“I thought about that last time and look at where we ended up! She caused a crime streak that is known throughout the universe!” Alcor gestured, ears going back as he spoke, “Obviously it was my fault, I caused it! Why would I want to chance it again?”

There was a glare from Mialach and she shook her head, “Again, you are making assumptions my Lord. That was one time, in the past, which cannot be changed now. You have the ability and more than enough power to change the present. What happens now is in your control and you have the lessons from the Dread Pirate so you can avoid making the same mistakes. I understand your trepidation, she betrayed you in a terrible way and left a scar on your psyche, but it is also time to move on and give this new Mizar a chance, just as you took a chance on me, take a chance on her.”

For a long moment Alcor sat there, looking down at his hands, then at the tea on the floor next to him. Picking up the cup once again he went and took a drink, finishing off the sweet beverage before he sighed heavily, feeling quite dejected, “I’m just scared okay? I’m terrified and anxious and I am doubtful.”

“That’s fair, but nothing will get better if you don’t try.” Mialach said gently, her expression softening, “Why don’t you go and take a peek first? See what she is like at this very moment? No doubt she is quite young and maybe she is just fine, but peeking is a good first step.”

Taking once more breath, Alcor nodded, “Fine. I can do that.”

---

On the lower levels of Aether, in the city of Minnestrope, was an orphanage. Most of the children in here had been abandoned, left behind by parents that no longer wanted them or were long dead. It was not a sad place and in fact the caregivers were compassionate and cared for the children greatly. However, at the end of the day, the goal was always the same; to find the children a good and loving home where they would thrive and grow into wonderful members of society. It was very rare that a child would not be adopted out and would instead age out of the system.

At the moment though, there was one child that had seemed to linger in the orphanage. She had little desire to be adopted and made no efforts to stand out to potential adopters as her head was in the clouds or nose in a book scribbling down notes. She spent much of her time in her room, drawing and working on diagrams, always asking for new books about spaceships or to be taken to the docks so she could watch ships come and go. Space fascinated her and she often would regale the younger children with tales of her memories about space.

Of course she had been in space before, having lived there until she was six and dropped at the orphanage like a sack of bricks. Despite how badly that stung, she bucked up and decided that she would find her own way back into the cosmos. Soon enough she loudly declared that she would build herself a spaceship and fly her way to space to travel among the planets and maybe even the universe. Of course the adults quietly entertained the idea but in reality no one really believed that she would succeed. At best she would go on to the Belt and work among the asteroid mines there, though the likelihood of her leaving Aether was slim.

Because she was too young to work on ships, the next best thing became robots, particularly droids. She was just as fascinated with them as she was ships. Thankfully this was something that the caregivers could thoroughly indulge and believe in, especially when the girl showed a knack for building them from the prefabricated kits. Soon enough the kits weren’t enough and she began to build the droids out of her own materials, typically scrap that she would collect on her walks home from school or by hoarding certain garbage from the orphanage.

The first time she had built a droid on her own, there had been inescapable glee, even when it bugged out a minute later and died. It had been all her own work, all of her research and handiwork and it had worked! Immediately she set to work on the next one and this was the continued trend when she wasn’t obsessing over spaceships.

One day she was sitting in her room at the desk she was given, tinkering with a new kind of droid, one that could fly. Unbeknownst to her, there was an unannounced visitor, lurking behind her on a plane that she had no hope of seeing into.

Alcor watched the child as she tinkered and hummed, her tongue sticking out as she worked and followed the blueprints she had made. A flying droid was pretty advanced, but she was a very advanced child and was going to try it anyways. For a long moment Alcor watched, then he peered a little deeper. On the surface everything seemed fine, the child enjoyed creating and dreaming which was standard for Mizars, after all many did take after the first one in some form. She seemed to get along with others, though was more of a lone wolf, which was fair, not every Mizar was going to be an extrovert.

Everything seemed fine, then he saw her dreams. He saw her desires of space, to have a ship, to be out in the cosmos and in a flash he saw Martha, but it wasn’t Martha. He heard her laugh as she burned through the universe. Immediately he recoiled, no, it was happening again! They were too similar, it was blurring the images, blurring the memories with potential fates and it left Alcor feeling more and more dreadful and scared. It was like looking right into a looking glass where Martha and this new Mizar were standing face to face, one reflecting the other.

It was another Mizar following a path of destruction, Alcor deduced. He had been right, Mialach was wrong! But then there was a nagging sensation in his gut. She was young, this girl, this Cassiopeia. Maybe there was hope yet, especially since no one thought she could do it, so maybe as long as he nudged the caretakers and maybe fate in the right direction, maybe he too could save this Mizar from destruction while she remained none the wiser. With that Alcor quickly disappeared, rushing to share his findings and get to work on preventing the fate he saw, leaving the young girl none the wiser that he had been there.

Pausing, Cassiopeia smiled, still not aware of the demon that had been there, but she was happy, dreaming of the stars and adventure. Something told her that she would make it, and nothing would get in her way, even a meddling interloper couldn’t stop her.

Notes:

I'm on a roll, and it's because of ToothPasteCanyon. She's an amazing source of inspiration and I'm loving how she just brings out my creativity.

I'm working very closely with her on parts of this because it does include Martha, her Dread Pirate Mizar, who is wicked awesome as a character and story arc.

This is also kind of a play on StarlightSystem's work: Reflection and definitely pulled some inspiration from that, especially the lime referring to the looking glass, hence the title.

[fleshlycolored]

Ah yes using up a good chunk of my time to not draw memes on my IPad left to right is Evil Mizar, Dread Pirate Mizar, Lane, Bentley, Niaomi, Fang Wu, Mabel Pines, and Belle Sterling

[toothpastecanyon]

Martha Of WEFIDS, Chapter 5

The Dread Pirate Mizar, and the little girl who would grow up to become her.  

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

“And Belle and I, we realised what the sludge demon was afraid of - the water! She told me to toss her a water gun, and we both sprayed that thing until it was a puddle on the floor!”

Alcor laughed at that. He sat back in Martha’s bed and put an arm around her; she was drawing in her sketchbook, looking almost like she wasn’t listening at all.

“On the living room floor. Lionel was so surprised when he came home and saw the state of the house, he was like ‘I just went to the library for five minutes, what on Earth happened!’ Hah! It was-”

“Alcor?”

Alcor blinked, and looked down at her. She hadn’t looked up from her sketchbook.

“Uh, yes? Martha?”

Martha took a moment to get a line just right, then opened her mouth. “Did she have friends? Belle?”

“Friends? What do you mean?”

“You know, friends?” Finally, she looked up. “Like people she met in school? and they went and hung out together?”

“Wha- oh, of course! Belle had tons of friends - she was good at that!” Alcor rested his head on the wall, grinning up at the ceiling. “She was so good at that. She had a best friend, too - I think she was there for the sludge demon as well. Really nice human, her name was…”

Then he stopped. Frowned. Martha raised an eyebrow.

“Was…?”

“Oh, what was her name? It’s been so long now, it was… it was…”

“Well, her name doesn’t matter.” Martha opened her sketchbook a bit. “Hey, Alcor, when I was in the park today-”

“Onika!” He bounced the whole bed as he sat up. “That’s the name!” Wow, it’s been a long time since I thought of her… a long, long time.” He paused, and looked back at Martha. “Sorry, what were you saying again?”

Martha was frowning at him; after a moment, she looked away. “Can we see Our Darkest Star?”

“Huh?”

“It’s a movie.” She drew a sweeping line in her sketchbook. “It’s about a pirate, and I think a demon, too. All the posters I look up are people kissing, but other than that it looks pretty cool! Can we see it?”

“Wha-” Alcor blinked, and then made a face. “Oh… ugh, that Twin Souls ripoff? You want to see that?”

Martha glowered at him. “Yes, I really do! Why don’t you want to? Do you think it’s stupid? Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Whoa!” He leaned back; she hadn’t been quite this prickly in a while. “I don’t - I don’t think you’re stupid? I’m just, uh… why do you want to see it so bad?”

“Why do I need a reason to see something? Fine, if you won’t see it with me, I’ll see it myself!”

“No, no, Martha, I’ll…” Alcor hesitated, swallowed, and decided to make a big sacrifice. “If it… really means that much to you… I’ll see the Twin Souls movie with you.”

“It’s not called Twin Souls. It’s Our Darkest Star.” She said, but gave him a sleepy grin. “You’ll like it. You’ll see!”

“Have you seen it before?”

“Nope!” With a yawn, she nestled in closer to Alcor. “But she… she said it was good. So… yeah…”

“She?”

Martha’s eyes were already closing. “Yeah…” She managed, and then rolled over and smushed her face into Alcor’s side. He couldn’t help but chuckle at that; he stroked her hair for a moment, then reached down and gently extracted her sketchbook from her hands. She didn’t let go of it at first, but he put his hand over hers, and slowly, her grip loosened.

It was open to the newest drawing, and Alcor took a look at it. It was of a young woman in a pirate costume - a much more stereotypical pirate than Martha usually drew. In the corner was a little note in her stilted handwriting: ‘For Cjacy’.

Cjacy? Alcor probed his omniscience and found another soul a few houses down, reading under her covers with a flashlight. He raised his eyebrows, and then he smiled at that.

So that’s why she wanted to see this movie. Well, if there was ever a good cause to put himself through a crappy Twin Souls ripoff, this was definitely it. He almost wasn’t dreading it now.

With a chuckle to himself, Alcor kissed the top of her head, and carefully extricated himself from her arms. Just like the sketchbook, she took a moment to release him, but once she did, she settled back into bed with a sigh and a peaceful smile.

He looked on that for a moment, looked at the soft dreams beginning to play in her mind, and he grinned to himself. He placed the sketchbook down on her end table, then made his way to the door, turned out the lights, and left her to dream.

______________________________________________________________

Martha, Alcor had come to realise, was an incredibly honest kid. She didn’t hide how she felt about things: if she was happy with you she was all smiles and cuddles, and if she thought you were doing something annoying she was not shy to say so. And she wasn’t very good at pretending.

No, he thought with a smile as she pretended to be interested in his lesson. She wasn’t very good at all.

“Martha?”

“Yeah,” Martha said, doodling in her sketchbook. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s really interesting, that’s… yeah.”

He let himself peer through the pages to see what she was working on; another doodle of that Wendjy figure, piloting a spaceship right through a UL cruiser. God, that movie was terrible, but at least she seemed to enjoy it. He cleared his throat again.

“Martha.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Martha blinked, and looked up. “I mean, what? I was listening!”

“I know you were.” He sat back in the air. “I was just saying, whoo, we got through this lesson faster than I was expecting! Wanna take an early lunch?”

“We did?” She glanced down at her sketchbook. “I mean, uh, yeah! I wanna take an early lunch! Maybe I’ll go to the park, you know, just to draw…”

Grinning, Alcor raised a hand and snapped them back into the house. “Well, whatever you do in the park, I hope you have fun, kid! Love you!”

Martha was out of the door before he could wave.

“Love you,” he said, a little quieter. The smile didn’t fade from his face, but it softened as he watched her run down the street, away from him.

She was already growing up, wasn’t she? He’d gotten used to having his little adventuring buddy with him throughout the day, but if there was one thing humans always did, it was change. Soon, she’d probably be telling him she didn’t need the bedtime stories, either.

A clock was ticking on the wall. Years passed so quickly for a demon. She was already eleven, already growing up, already starting to find her friends, find her place in the world… because she had a place.

Alcor swallowed.

She had a place in this world. But the only place he had left - it was by her side, for as long as she lived.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

For as long as she lived… He let out a breath, and then shook his head. That wasn’t something he needed to worry about now.

Now, he needed to be happy for her. Happy that she was growing up, growing away.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

He turned from the window, and wondered what to do with all this time.

______________________________________________________________

This was it. The same park. The same picnic table. She sat in the same place, looked around, and tried to draw like her heart wasn’t beating out of her chest. Her hands were shaking, and she glared down at them like she could scare them into steadiness.

Why was she being so weird about this? She was a Mizar, she was great at making friends! Besides, she’d prepared for this! They watched the movie yesterday, and then she’d read the wiki until she knew every trivia fact by heart - did you know Our Darkest Star was banned in Reb 5 for its depiction of piracy? She probably knew even more about it than Cjacy at this point; she was gonna be so impressed!

Cjacy. Martha glanced around again, and kind of hated the rush that went through her when she thought she spotted her. She was scared - what the fuck was happening? Cjacy wasn’t scary; she’d probably never even been in a fight before! None of those school kids had - yeah, she could take on ten Cjacies and still win without even breaking a sweat!

She wiped her forehead. Sweat… what the fuck, she was sweating! Oh, maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she should go back to Alcor, she should-

“Martha?”

Martha whipped around and saw three kids coming her way - three? She couldn’t help but shrink into her seat. Cjacy came up to her with a dazzling grin.

“Hi, I thought that was you!” She looked back at her two friends. “This is who I was telling you about, guys! See, Brenjo was totally lying about how she got expelled - I mean, look at her!”

“Yeah, she’s tiny!” One of her friends giggled, and Martha didn’t know why that made her feel like she was dying. “Is she even in the same grade as us?”

“I’m eleven.” Martha said. “How old are you?”

“I’m twelve!” Piped up the other friend. “I’m the-”

“Oldest kid in the year, we know, Vyrie!” Cjacy rolled her eyes, and grinned at Martha. “Sorry about the ambush, these are my friends! That’s Vyrie and this is Aqshee!”

Vyrie, a little red in the face, waved at her. Aqshee looked with wide eyes at her sketchbook.

“I heard you can draw! Can you draw me?”

“Why would I do that? I like drawing interesting things.”

“Wha- hey, rude!”

“Ooooh, burn!” Cjacy cackled. “Don’t worry, Aqshee, she was like this last time, too.”

Martha frowned. “Like what?”

“Like a total buttface, of course.” Cjacy leaned over her. “Hey, what are you drawing this time? More Wendjy?”

“Yeah! I saw the movie yesterday - uh, again, I mean.” She slid the sketchbook over, but kept a firm grip on it. “Did you know Wendjy was played by Slevina Jakoradorsk? I read she once got intercepted by pirates on her way to the set, but they let her go because one of their kids loved the book so much.” She grinned up at Cjacy. “Speaking of the book, did you bring it?”

“What? No, why would I just have it on me?”

“Oh. But you said-” Martha blinked as Cjacy suddenly picked her sketchbook up. “Hey!”

“Oh my stars, these are so good! Oh, I love this one!” Cjacy turned to a drawing of Wendjy and Caat, and showed it to her friends. “Goddd, look at how happy they look together in this one! Ugh, I just wanna rip them into tiny little pieces!”

Martha gave a crooked smile. So it seems like she liked it? Maybe?

“What’re those scribbles in the corner?” Vyrie tilted her head. “For Cj-”

Like lightning Martha snatched the sketchbook back. She glared as they all giggled at her.

“For Cjacy?”

“Those were for me?”

“No!” Martha watched Cjacy’s grin widen. “No, they weren’t for you! You just read it wrong, okay?”

“Aww, you like me, don’t you!”

“I will stab you!” She jabbed at them with her pencil. “I’ll take you all on, don’t laugh at me!”

But they did, and Martha could do nothing but sit there with her cheeks burning. Cjacy reached over and ruffled her hair, and she batted her arm away.

“Well, well, well!” Cjacy said, after a moment. “And here I was thinking you were just a jerk! You’re sooo cute!”

“I’m not cute! Shut up!”

“She’s adorable!” said Aqshee.

“I’m not adorable! I just-, I- oh, whatever!” Martha gathered her stuff and stood up on the bench so she was taller than all of them. “Whatever! I don’t need to deal with this! I’m leaving!”

She hopped off the bench then, but Cjacy caught her arm.

“H-hey, wait, wait,” Cjacy was trying not to laugh. “You, ah, wanted to borrow my book, right?”

Martha glared at her.

“I’ve got it at home, I’ll go over and get it for you! Do you wanna come with?”

“Go back home?” Vyrie frowned at her. “You don’t have time for that, we’ve got practice!”

“Oh, I’ll be late, it’s fine. You guys go ahead, okay?” She looked back at Martha, grinned, and tugged her arm. “Come on, let’s get you that book!”

With a lump in her throat, Martha let her lead her along the park path. They were going further from the house than she’d ever gone on her own; she cast a glance over her shoulder, and turned back to see Cjacy grinning at her.

“So where’re you from, Martha?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Oh, back to acting like a tough gal, huh?” She smirked and squeezed her hand. “Come onn, I’m just curious! Feels like you popped out of nowhere a year ago - where’d you live before that?”

“Reb 5.”

“Reb 5? Really?” She whistled. “Oh, I would’ve pegged you as one of those outer colony kids.”

“We moved around a lot.” Martha looked away. “I kept getting expelled.”

“Hah! Well, that sounds cool! I wish I got to move around!” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve never even been off planet. Well, my dad says we went to the moon when I was three, but come on, Dad, you don’t remember things when you’re three! And besides - the moon? That’s like, so barely off planet it just sounds lame to say. Vyrie got taken all the way to Homeworld last summer, but me? Oooh, I went to the moon. Ugh!”

Martha raised her eyebrows. “I can’t imagine being stuck on one planet so long. We had a spaceship-”

“And that’s just the thing, so do we!” They turned off the park into a row of big houses, and Cjacy sighed. “My dad said he went all over the UL when he was young, but now he seems to think I want to spend my whole freaking life in Kepler.”

“Well, it’s a nice planet.”

“Who cares how nice it is? I don’t care if it’s the best place in the universe if I can’t leave it!” She looked back at Martha, and gave a guilty grin. “Sorry, I went off on one of my big rants, didn’t I? It’s, uh… well, I’m glad you like it. Anyway, we’re here.”

Cjacy stopped in front of a shimmering magnetic barrier, and stood on tiptoes to reach the iris scan. It flashed green, and the shimmering faded; she stepped through, and motioned Martha to do the same.

“Come on!”

Martha followed cautiously up the driveway. Cjacy’s house was much bigger than her own; it looked like an upside down pyramid, sleek and white with large windows and a neat green lawn growing on the underside of an overhang. It cast a deep shadow on the driveway, and Martha felt colder as she stepped into it. Cjacy held the front door open for her, and she felt like she was entering a fortress.

“So, this is my house! Oh, shoes off, by the way.” Cjacy slipped her sneakers off and grinned down at her. “Do you like it?”

Martha looked around. “It’s big.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll show you my bedroom! It’s just through here.”

She punched some buttons next to a dark door by the wall; it beeped, and when Cjacy led her through the whole place seemed to twist around Martha - it felt like getting blipped by Alcor, and when she stumbled out, she found herself in a big, but normal-looking bedroom. The view from the windows was messing with her, though - she stepped closer, and realised…

“We’re upside down.” She walked towards the edge, and couldn’t help but shiver as she looked down and saw blue sky stretching out before her like an endless abyss. Houses seemed like stalagtites, cars like skittering little creatures on the roof of a cave. She looked up at the ceiling, then back at Cjacy. “Artificial gravity? Why’d you put it in here?”

“Well, I didn’t, whoever built the house did.” She grinned. “It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? Now, for my book…”

Martha watched her walk over to her bed. She lifted up the sheets, and for a moment Martha thought she’d see a big hole, but instead she slipped her hand between the bedframe and the mattress. With a little effort, she got out the book, and tossed it to the floor.

“There you go!” Cjacy started carefully remaking her bed. “Gotta make sure this is neat… oh, you can take it!”

Bending down, Martha set down her sketches and picked up the book. It was a well-loved paperback, with battered pages coming loose from the spine. On the cover were two silhouettes backlit by a deep red star; a battleship loomed above them, and all around were glittering stars.

Cjacy was getting up. “Oh, I love the cover art! It kind of reminds me of the stuff you drew. Don’t loose it, okay? And tell me what you think, I think it’s even better than the- oh, shoot.”

“What? Martha looked up sharply. She’d darted over to the window, and Martha saw a car pull up to the driveway above them. “Who is that?”

“It’s my, my dad! Why’s he back there?” Cjacy glanced back at Martha, and then quickly drew the curtains. “Ugh, and you’re gonna be so hard to explain! Don’t say anything weird, okay?”

“What do you-”

“I mean- just follow my lead!”

Martha heard a door close downstairs, and couldn’t help but tense up. The book in her hands; she stuffed it down her shirt just as a voice rang out.

“Cjacy?” The voice was deep, and annoyed. “The house says you’re home. What are you doing here? You have practice!”

Cjacy shrank back a bit. “Dad? I was just-”

“Don’t shout! Come downstairs. And bring your friend, too.”

Martha clenched her fists at that. Cjacy huffed as she motioned her towards the door, and she followed slowly, cautiously. The doors slid closed behind them, and in front, they opened up to reveal a man standing in the entrance. He was tall, almost tall enough to hit his head on the ceiling, and he stood with his hands clasped in front of him. He was not smiling; his lips turned down at the edges, like they were used to this expression.

“Cjacy,” He said. “You’re supposed to be at practice.”

“I was just going, Dad! I was just a bit late-”

“A bit late? You were supposed to be there almost half an hour ago!”

“Well, I lost track of time. It’s not my fault!”

“Not your fault?” His gaze slid over to Martha, and she glared back defiantly. “Whose fault is it, then? Your little friend over here.”

“Wha- no! Leave her alone, Dad-”

He took a step forwards. “I haven’t seen you at Cjacy’s school before. What’s your name, kid?”

Martha opened her mouth, but Cjacy cut in.

“She’s Martha. She’s, uh, a grade below us, so you wouldn’t have seen her before.” Cjacy crossed her arms. “And, she’s kind of shy, so she’d really rather not go through one of your little interrogations, Dad.”

“Shy, huh.” He raised an eyebrow at her sullen expression. “Looks more like a troublemaker to me.”

“Dad!”

“I’m just introducing myself, sweetie.” He walked up to Martha with slow, deliberate steps, leaned down, and stuck out his hand. “Maybe I’m being too harsh. How about a proper introduction?”

Martha stared distrustfully at his hand, but took it. He squeezed too tight, and leaned in too close.

“My name is Commander Uzlan Azaranda. It’s always a pleasure to meet one of my daughter’s friends.”

Martha swallowed. The book in her shirt was pressing against her chest. “You’re in the UL?”

“Yes. I’m in charge of all the domestic forces in this star system.” He finally smiled; it wasn’t friendly. “Strange, I could feel your heartrate spike just now. You’re very lucky to live in such a peaceful section of the UL, you know. I take protecting that peace very seriously - do you understand me?”

“Yes? But I-I’m not nervous!” With some effort, she pulled her hand away. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Hmph. Good. Then you won’t have any trouble from me. But you should know, I keep a close eye on my daughter’s friends.” He drew himself up, and laid a heavy hand on Cjacy’s shoulder. “She’s a very promising young lady, and I wouldn’t want her falling in with the wrong sort.”

Cjacy pushed his hand away. “Dad, you’re doing the interrogation thing again! Can you just leave her alone already?”

“Okay, I’ve said my piece.” His hand came back down on her shoulder. “I came back here to have lunch, but it looks like I’m taking you to practice. Do I have to drop off your friend too, or is she-”

“I can walk.” Martha cut in. “I don’t live far.”

“Good.” He opened the front door. “After you.”

Martha couldn’t meet his eyes as she passed him by. She glanced at Cjacy mouthing ‘Sorry’ at her, hesitated, and then walked out of the house. Arms crossed, hugging the book to her chest, she walked down the driveway, and through the magnetic fence that shimmered into existence behind her. She forced herself to walk until she was back in the park, out of his sight, and then she let out a breath she’d been holding since she heard the ‘Commander’ by his name.

Her knees were trembling, but not from fear. She cast a dirty glare back at the house - they were all the same, weren’t they? It didn’t matter if those UL space wastes were stationed in sunny Kepler or the middle of WEFIDS, they never missed a chance to ruin things for her.

Cjacy. Martha’s eyes stung a bit as she walked, and that made her even angrier. You know what, screw her! Screw her! She didn’t need to be friends with some prissy little Commander’s daughter - she was a Mizar, she could make friends with someone else, she could make friends with anybody she wanted! She didn’t even like Cjacy anyway, she didn’t like Our Darkest Star, she didn’t know why she spent all those hours drawing-

And Martha stopped dead. Drawing. Her hands flew to her shirt; she whipped out Cjacy’s book, but her sketchbook - she left it in the bedroom!

She felt a cold pit of fear, and then a rush of anger. Cjacy’s book - she gripped it tight enough to hurt. They took her sketchbook, they took her fucking sketchbook! Why did everyone keep taking EVERYTHING AWAY FROM HER!

With a yell, Martha tore the book in half and tossed one end into the street; the other she gripped tight and started ripping pages out of it and scattering them in the grass and kicking and stomping on them. After a little while she could see someone approaching her - she fled back to her house with a couple pages crumpled in her fist, and locked the door. Then she stood there, trembling with rage, so angry she couldn’t even think to do anything but pace and shove things off the counters and watch them shatter. Whatever, she thought. Let him say something about it. Who cares? Who cares!

She didn’t want to calm down, but eventually, reluctantly, the roaring in her ears faded, and when she looked around at the upturned table and the broken glass on the floor, when she opened her fist and tattered pages fluttered to the ground like dead butterflies, she could feel an uncomfortable shame pressing in on her. She could see Alcor’s face in her mind now, how disappointed he’d look, how he’d sit by her bed and he’d ask her quietly what happened.

Martha pursed her lips. She didn’t want to see his face. She didn’t want to look at any of this. She turned away and retreated back into her room, wondering when he’d be back.

He was probably on some kind of summons, she thought. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too long - it was so much worse to wait for him.

______________________________________________________________

Alcor wasn’t back soon. It was a couple hours before Martha heard a knock on her door, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Martha?”

His voice - she hated how worried he sounded.

“Are you okay?”

Martha hesitated, and then sighed. “I’m okay,” she said, and then: “And you can come in. I know you were gonna ask that.”

She heard the door swing open. She stared at the wall as he came in, as he sat down on her bed; she couldn’t look him in the eyes. She could hear him open his mouth-

“Look, I get it, I messed up,” she cut in. She looked back at him now, and crossed her arms. “I’m sorry I messed up the kitchen, okay? I’ll clean it up, you don’t have to make a big thing about it.”

“Okay,” he said, slowly. Then: “Martha?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

Martha had an answer ready for that, and she opened her mouth… but it didn’t come out. There was a lump in her throat, and as she tried to talk her eyes started watering and all the fear and the shame came flooding out of her like a dam bursting. Alcor was there in an instant; she buried herself in his familiar suitjacket and felt his arms and wings close gently around her, and she sobbed.

“I-I’m s-s-sor-ry,” she tried to say. “I-I d-i-id-dn’t me-ean to, I-”

“Shh,” Alcor was saying. “It’s okay, it’s okay-”

“It’s not okay! I-I don-n’t know why I-I do this, I-I…” She squeezed him tighter. “I-I lost it, I l-lost it Alc-cor, I-I-”

“Lost what?”

“M-my ske-etchbook!” She shook her head. “I-I lef-ft it in h-her bedroom, stupid, st-stupid…”

Alcor was silent for a moment, and then he pulled back a bit.

“This sketchbook?” He said, and when he drew her sketchbook out of his suitjacket he flinched from how loud Martha screamed. She snatched it up and flipped through the pages - it was all there, all hers!

“You-!” Martha looked up at his smiling face. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! Thank you so much, Alcor, you’re the best!”

“I’m happy to help,” Alcor said, and there was a strange shine in his eyes as he reached into his jacket again. “But, uh, you said you lost it in a bedroom? I actually found it on a bench in the park, and it had this note on it. I think you should read it.”

Martha frowned at him, and hesitated before taking the note. It was written in neat, loopy handwriting, and it read:

To Martha,

I’m so sorry, I don’t know where you live so this seemed like the best place to put this! And sorry about my dad, he does that to everyone I’m friends with but he’s not actually angry at you! I hope he didn’t scare you away haha. I hope you get this and I hope you like the book! Let me know what you think (especially chapter 13 oms)

See you soon!

Cjacy

Martha’s eyes were welling up again. She looked up at Alcor, at the gentle disappointment in his face, and she gritted her teeth.

“You gotta h-help me.” She gripped the note. “Her book, y-you gotta fix it now! Please, she’s gonna hate me forever!”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. “I can do that,” he said, slowly. “But can you tell me what happened?”

“I don’t know! I d-don’t know what happened, I was…” She looked away, wiped her eyes, and shrugged. “I dunno, mad?” She clutched her sketchbook to her chest. “I thought… I dunno what I thought. I just do things sometimes, okay? And you say one day I won’t be a kid anymore and I’ll get arrested and you won’t help me and I don’t know what I’m gonna do about it!”

“Martha,” Alcor put a hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t mean I wouldn’t help you. I’ll always be here for you, okay?”

“You mean you’ll always be cleaning up my messes?” She wiped her eyes again. “I’m n-not trying to be difficult, I-I’m trying to be good, I-I’m really trying, I-”

“Hey. Hey.” Alcor put something in her lap; Cjacy’s book, worn but undamaged. He kissed her on the head. “You’re a wonderful kid, Martha. I know you’re trying, and you’ll get there, okay? I’ve seen how much progress you’ve made already, you’re doing so well.”

Martha looked over at him, and saw a strange shine in his eyes. He rose slowly from the bed.

“By the time you’re all grown up, I’m sure you won’t need me at all.”

Martha didn’t know what to say to that. He made his way towards the door.

“Goodnight, Martha. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, softly, and watched as he closed the door. When it shut with a click, she looked down at the book she was holding so carefully in her hands.

She sniffed, wiped her eyes again, and hesitated for a moment. Then, she opened it, and began to read.

[toothpastecanyon]

Restless

The day the Dread Pirate Mizar plunged a battleship into the sun was the day that would immortalise her. Neural news networks beamed images of melting metal and shredded hull into minds all across the UL, and in that moment, she was reborn.

Not everyone met her on that day, though. Some people had met her a long, long time ago.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

The day the Dread Pirate Mizar plunged a battleship into the sun was the day that would immortalise her. Neural news networks beamed images of melting metal and shredded hull into minds all across the UL, and in that moment, she was reborn.

Reborn not as a person, but as a figure. As a feeling. As a legend.

The day the Dread Pirate Mizar plunged a battleship into the sun, stories began to be passed around.

It was said that the Dread Pirate Mizar was a tactical genius. She must have had inside knowledge to outmaneuver the Avada; it was said that she was a deserter, a former general of the innermost circles of the empire.

It was said that she rotted in prison for ten, twenty, fifty years, plotting the UL’s destruction.

It was said that she was crazy. It was said that she was all too sane.

It was said that she and the pirates like her were the UL’s most existential threat; it was said that she was a monster, a hero, a murderer, a revolutionary.

So many tales were told, each one taller than the last. But of these stories, a few would be left unsaid.

There was an old man, sitting in the living room with his granddaughter as his neural chip read him confirmation of Martha’s death. He grimaced to himself, thinking back to a time he’d rather forget.

______________________________________________________________

Biquilage Astradust was not proud of his past. He’d never had much in the way of a stable home life; his mother had died fighting in WEFIDS, and his father didn’t make enough to cover rent without him chipping in. He worked odd jobs until he fell into a group that paid much better… if you could stomach it.

He didn’t start out killing people, no. It started out with something he couldn’t help but understand.

It started out with anger. A common anger bound them all - anger at the hand they’d been dealt in life. Anger at the family they’d lost, anger at the situations they’d been trapped in, anger at the people who got what they didn’t deserve while they rotted in the gutters. Biquil didn’t remember a whole lot about where he went or what he did, but he remembered that anger.

It felt good, to share that. It felt good, to be with people who would understand. Who cares what they were doing?

…They were stealing. They were mugging. They were hurting people. And when Biquil was seventeen and fighting with his dad, they were saying they had some friends off planet who’d give him a place to stay for a while.

Pirates. These friends were pirates, and Biquil remembered the hard swallow he gave at the markings on the side of their ship. Jigeitef, who was accompanying him, gave him a playful shove.

“You look scared, B.” His grin had a gleam to it. “Don’t tell me I brought my buddies a chicken!”

“No! No, I’m ready! I’m ready to do whatever they say!”

“That’s more like it.” They were docking; Jig clapped his back. “You’re lucky. Captain’s putting on a bit of a party before the big hit tomorrow. I’ll introduce you to him - if I can catch him sober, hah!”

The pirates were all crowded in an old UL mess hall; there weren’t even close to enough seats, and Biquil had to step between a dozen or so swaying crew members before he made it to the captain. The captain was a large, bearded man who seemed more interested in nursing his bowl of ERNARERE brew than saying hello; after a moment, Jig gave up and thrust a bowl in Biquil’s direction.

“S’no matter. Let’s go enjoy ourselves, eh?”

The stench of alcohol burned his nose, and the two of them had a hard time finding a place to sit. Eventually they settled for sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor; a pirate tapped Jig from behind and they started to talk, leaving Biquil alone in the deafening chatter around him.

Only for a moment, though. There was a nudge, and he turned to see Jig and the other pirate motioning at him.

“...yeah, he’s new,” Jig was saying. “He’s from… ah, whereabouts you from, B?”

“Up north,” said Biquil. He’d learned not to be specific.

“Yeah, he’s up north, round the, uh, Polar neighborhoods. Like me.” Jig cracked a grin. “You know his mom was a UL’er?”

Biquil’s blood ran cold as the pirate looked up at him. The pirate’s face twisted into a black anger, and he spat at the floor. Biquil huddled up a little closer to Jig.

“What are you doing?” He hissed. “I don’t want people knowing that!”

Jig waved him off. “Oh, you give him too much credit. He won’t remember it in the morning.”

The pirate made a slitting motion against his neck, and Biquil gulped. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, kid. Just relax, okay?” Jig rustled his hair, and then snorted at something. “Your mom, she died in WEFIDS, didn’t she?”

“What?”

“Your mom died in WEFIDS?”

“Um, yeah… she-”

“That’s amazing! Oh, dude, I gotta show you something hil-lar-ious.”

Biquil was taken aback by that, and watched as Jig got to his feet and looked around. He grinned when he spotted someone in the crowd, and cupped his hands over his mouth to yell across the room:

“Hey, Mizar!”

The room quieted for a moment, but there was no reply. Pirates started turning their heads and snickering; Biquil craned his head to see who they were laughing at.

“Mizar. Mizar.”

Jigs’ lip lifted in a sneer. He was staring at a woman lying facedown in a corner of the room, wild hair tangled in a dirty halo around her head. She didn’t respond, didn’t move a muscle, and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, for star’s sakes. Can someone check if she’s dead?”

At that, a couple sniggering pirates prodded her. She groaned, but didn’t move much. Biquil glanced over at Jigs.

“What’s going on?” He whispered. “Why are you-”

“ARGH, FUCK!”

That came from Mizar; one of the pirates had poured their bowl all over her hair and she’d shot up, frantically pawing at the back of her head.

“I’m hit! I’m bleeding, I’m…” She stared blankly at the tarry mixture all over her hands, and then noticed all the pirates laughing at her. Her expression twisted into a furious glare. “Oh, fuck you guys! Leave me alone, I’ve got such a hangover right now!”

“Hey, Mizar!” Jigs called out. She turned that glare on him.

“Fuck off.”

“You know WEFIDS, right?”

Mizar visibly flinched at that. Her whole body went tense, and her hand went up to clutch at a dirty pink shawl hung around her shoulders. She reminded Biquil of a cornered animal; while the other pirates cackled, he shivered.

“You know WEFIDS, right?” Jigs repeated. When she didn’t respond, he patted Biquil’s shoulder. “D’you know we got a newbie who’s mom fought there?”

Biquil physically recoiled. He tugged at Jigs’ sleeve. “No, don’t-”

“Just sayin, I thought you’d be interested.” Jigs grinned wide. “Your folks, they bit it in a UL attack, didn’t they? Damn, that sucks. Who knows, maybe this newbie knows who did it, eh, B?”

Mizar’s eyes, small and beady and bloodthirsty, suddenly jumped down and fixed on him. Biquil still remembered the shiver that shot down his spine as she rose to her feet, shattered a bottle against the side of the ship, and stumbled forwards.

Stumbled down. Fell on a group of pirates, and suddenly there was kicking and shoving and swearing and Mizar dissolved into a bloody bar fight. Without her eyes on him, Biquil felt like he could breathe again; immediately he rounded on his friend.

“You’re trying to get me killed!”

“Relax, kid,” Jig sat back even as Biquil put a hand on his knife. “You’re not special, we do it to all the newbies. Sometimes she makes them scream, hah!”

“I don’t…” He frowned. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Well, you’re here now, and you’re not leaving.” Jig looked at him, and there was something dangerous in his smile. “Where’re you gonna go, huh? Back to Daddy? I’m sure he’ll be happy to have a pirate back at home.”

Biquil didn’t know what to say to that.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re ours now, boy. Get used to it.” Jig took a gulp of his brew. “And since you’re being so whiny about it, why don’t you have this?”

He handed Biquil a key. It was slightly bent, and there was dried blood on the handle.

“What’s this?”

“For where you’re sleeping. You’re lucky, that one’s for just a two person room! You’re gonna love your roommate.”

“Who’s my roommate?”

Jig just stared ahead, to the barfight. Somebody had Mizar in a headlock as another person was punching her all over. She was clawing at his arm, and then finally she took the broken bottle and drove it backwards into his face; they all fell over, and blood painted the wall. Biquil’s blood went cold.

“Not…”

“Yeah.” A chuckle. “Hey, maybe you’ll have the room to yourself. Seems like this fight could go either way.”

There was a shout, and suddenly Mizar was pinning the other guy to the wall; he held his hands up, but she stabbed him in the neck, and stabbed him again and again and again and again until he fell down and she kept stabbing at the wood. Finally she staggered back, dropping the bottle, staring at her bloodsoaked hands. Jig raised his eyebrows.

“Or not.” He patted Biquil’s back. “Yeah, have fun tonight, B. Might even see you tomorrow.”

Biquil stared at the monster curled up against the far wall, and honestly wondered if he was going to die tonight.

______________________________________________________________

Mizar wasn’t there when Biquil made his way to their room. He’d actually made sure to go to bed before her - his plan, if you could call it a plan, was to just be silent and hope she wouldn’t notice him. He didn’t know what to expect going into her room: bodies? Weapons? Some kind of sick collection of things taken from her murders? His heart was thumping in his chest as he turned the key, braced himself, opened the door…

And found not a bad room. It obviously wasn’t the neatest place to sleep at; there were clothes and knives strewn about everywhere, and a collection of alcohol bowls at the base of one bed, but nothing horrifying. Most surprising of all, he remembered, was a sketchbook on her bed, opened to quite a pretty drawing of this system’s asteroid belt.

Strange.

Her stuff was all over Biquil’s bed, too, and he froze, unsure of whether to move it or not. He eventually decided to carefully lower it all to the floor, and then turned out the lights so she hopefully wouldn’t notice.

Then he got in bed, and waited for her. He couldn’t sleep a wink knowing that she was coming, not knowing what she was going to do when she saw him. Jig didn’t seem to think she was that scary, but that look in her eyes when she was pacing towards him…

It was a long wait. He didn’t know how long exactly, but an eternity later, he heard the doorknob move, saw the door open and a figure stumble in. Backlit by the hallway lights, she looked like some kind of shadow, and she froze in place.

Biquil couldn’t see her eyes, but she moved her head, and suddenly he felt her gaze like he was being dropped into a sun. Slowly, deliberately, Mizar turned and closed the door behind her, locked it… and then there was something cold pressed up against his neck.

“What are you doing here?” Mizar’s voice was dangerously low. “You come to kill me? Who sent you this time?”

“What?” Biquil strained against the knife. “I don’t - they just sent me to sleep here! I wasn’t, I-I’m not trying to kill you, I promise!”

“Fuck off! Fuck off with your promises! Why don’t you guys just leave me alone?!”

“I’m sorry! I-I just got here, I don’t- please don’t kill me. I can leave. I’ll go, I-I’ll sleep outside in the hallway, I’ll…” He felt the knife relax a bit. “I’ll…?”

Mizar didn’t say anything for a long moment. Suddenly, the lights switched on, and he jumped at the sight of her looming over him. Her eyes squinted a bit in the light, and then glared down at him.

“You,” she said, after a pause. “You’re that kid from earlier. Jigs’ little friend.”

Lost for words, he nodded. She looked down at the floor.

“You moved my stuff.”

“Sorry.”

Mizar gave him a strange look at that. He couldn’t figure out if it was good or bad, but suddenly she pushed off him and tossed the knife into a corner. He could finally breathe… and he didn’t know what to do now. She was picking up all the clothes he’d moved to the floor; he reached down to help, but she glared at him and he thought better of it.

It was silent, for a long, awkward minute. Then Mizar spoke.

“B something.”

“Huh?”

“Your name.”

“Oh, uh… call me Biquil.”

Mizar nodded to herself as she folded up a prison jumpsuit. “And how old are you?”

“Um… Twenty?”

“You asking me if you’re twenty?”

“No! Uh, no, uh… seventeen. I’m seventeen.”

“Seventeen, huh.” Mizar opened a drawer. “You’re young, aren’t you.”

“Yeah…I can still fight, though! I’m not gonna run away!”

“Run away. Heh.” She shook her head. “You should, kid. While you still can.”

“What?”

“Where you from?”

“Uh, ODDIK.”

“How far away is that?”

“It’s, uh… we’re in ODDIK right now.”

“Oh.” Mizar shot him a death glare. “I’m not dumb. I’ve had a long day. I’ll hurt you if you laugh at me.”

Biquil shook his head, and watched her glare deepen.

“You think I’m dumb. You all think I’m dumb, and you’re all wrong. I know why they made you come here; they think I’ll be a part of their little hazing.” She muttered to herself. “I’m gonna kill Jigs. Gonna kill him. One day I’m just gonna kill him.”

He shrank back in his bed a little as Mizar finished putting her stuff away. She stalked towards the light switch, and shot a look at him before she flicked it.

“You need anything else?”

“What do you-”

“I said. Do you need. Anything else.” She glared at him. “Once this goes off it’s not going on again. Hurts my eyes.”

“No, I don’t- I don’t need anything else.”

“Good.” She turned off the lights, and there was a shuffling as she got into bed. “Oh, by the way, don’t plan on sleeping tonight, kid. There’s a reason they gave me my own room.”

“...Why?”

“I, uh, snore. Yeah, I snore real loud, apparently.”

Biquil frowned. “That’s the reason?”

“I mean I also strangled someone with their own bedsheets once, but that was self defense.” The bed creaked as Mizar rolled over. “Anyway, goodnight, or whatever.”

She didn’t speak again, and Biquil was suddenly alone in total darkness. He tried to shut his eyes, but it didn’t make much difference.

______________________________________________________________

Unsurprisingly, Biquil didn’t remember getting much sleep that night. He did - very vividly - remember why, though. It wasn’t the snoring. Mizar didn’t snore once.

It was the crying. She cried all night, sniffing and muttering and breath-hitching… and he just lay there, with nothing to do but listen. He didn’t dare make a sound, and when the alarm went off for them to get up, he didn’t say a word about the blotchy face who turned on the lights.

“Hmm…” She wiped her eyes and frowned at him for a second. “Oh, you’re the kid from the… Right.”

“Good morning,” Biquil said, and then immediately regretted how dumb that sounded.”Uh-”

“It’s a good morning? That’s news to me, heh.” She chuckled as she picked a knife up from the floor. “Big day. Think we’re raiding a UL outpost today. Apparently the captain thinks they keep a lot of gold in little space stations at the edge of empire space, but hey, what do I know.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he got out of bed. There wasn’t a whole lot of getting ready he needed to do - he’d slept in his clothes - but he did check his pockets. You’d be surprised how easy it was for things to go missing over the night.

“How you feeling about it, kid?”

“Huh? Oh, I’m ready for anything.”

“Anything, eh?” She shot him an unpleasant smile. “That’s bold. Anything at all?”

Biquil made a face. “I mean… you know, ready for whatever happens on the job, you know.”

“Oh yeah, I know. I know what happens on jobs, you don’t.”

“...Okay?”

She paused, and then took a step towards him. “This is your first job, isn’t it.”

“No, I-”

“Sure, sure, you’ve messed around on your home planet or whatever. That’s not what I’m talking about, kid.” She stepped forwards again, close enough that he could smell her. That pink shawl - stars, it reeked. “I’m saying this is your first job. Your first real one.”

There was something unreadable in Mizar’s eyes… he nodded. Anything to make her go away, and fuck she put a hand on his shoulder.

“Listen to me,” she said, quietly. “You’re not gonna go on this job today. You’re gonna stay in this room, and I’ll come back after and get you off the ship.”

Biquil frowned. “What?”

“I’ll just say I killed you. They always believe that, they won’t go looking for you.”

“Wh- but, no! I gotta go on this job, I won’t get paid-”

“Then you’re gonna walk right off this ship and get yourself a different job - asteroid miners, they hire off the street these days! You still have that option.” Her grip tightened. “Listen, kid, that UL outpost is gonna be stuffed with cameras and chip scanners; you think you got problems now? Wait until your iris scan shows up on every piracy database in the galaxy. Once you’re in, you’re not getting out.”

He stared at her. “You want me to just… run away?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“I can’t do that! Jigs is gonna think I’m a-”

“Argh!” Mizar suddenly shoved him back. “I’m gonna break something if you keep whining at me! Just stay here for a few hours and I’ll get you off the ship-”

“But I don’t want to get off the ship!” He clenched his fists. “You can’t just kick me out like this!”

“Oh yes I can, and also, I don’t care what you want. You’re seventeen, what you want is dumb.”

“Shut up, shut up!” He stabbed a finger at her. “Stop telling me what to do! I came here so people would stop telling me what to do! You’re not my mother!”

Mizar stared down at him. “Yeah, and I’m real glad I’m not. She raised a piece of work, didn’t she?”

Biquil froze as the words registered; at first there was disbelief, and then red hot rage like she’d stabbed him with fire. Before he even knew what he was doing he drew back his fist and was driving it right into her stupid smug face-

And she caught it. A second later, the cold rim of a blaster shoved itself against his jaw. She wasn’t smiling at all.

“Don’t try that again, kid.” Her hand forced itself into his pocket, and grabbed his room key. “This is what is going to happen. You’re going to stay right here until I come back, and then you’re going to get off this ship and go do something else with your life.”

She started walking backwards, still pointing the blaster at him. He glowered at her.

“I hate you.”

“Join the club.” Mizar opened the door, and then motioned around the room. “Oh, yeah, and while I’m gone, don’t trash my room. I may kill you for real then.”

“Oh, yeah? Try me! We can fight it out, we can-!” The door slammed in his face, and he kicked it. “Argh! I can’t believe this!”

He jiggled the handle, and then tried banging and hollering on the metal; no one came. He stepped back, shaking from anger, and started kicking all her stupid clothes strewn all over the floor. One of her knives was right by his foot - he took that and started gouging holes in some of them, and then he went to her bed and sliced right down her mattress.

Her sketchbook fell on the ground. He picked it up, chest heaving, and tore the pages right out of their binding. He tried to rip them all together but they were too thick to tear, so he picked one out.

It was a drawing of an asteroid. The detail in it gave him pause; he stared at the little flecks of shining ore in the grey shading, the sky behind it peppered with stars… this must’ve taken hours, he thought.

Biquil made to tear it, but then he paused, and then he scowled and tossed it to the floor instead. He stalked over to his bed and threw himself onto his pillow.

There he lay for a long time, glaring into the fabric.

______________________________________________________________

It felt like an eternity before Mizar returned. Biquil paced around the room for a while, listening to the oxygen system whirr on and judder off, the idling engines chugging deep in the hull, the creaks and moans of an empty ship. He tried picking the lock, but he’d never been very good at that; he didn’t like fiddly things. He didn’t like waiting around.

Which was why it was almost a relief to hear footsteps down the corridor. He heard the key turn in the lock, and saw the door crack open.

Nobody came out at first. He moved a bit closer, and then it swung wide; Mizar shuffled in, hunched, with her hand clapped around a wound on her forehead - he could see the blood still running down it.

“Oh…” He said as she threw her backpack on the ground. “Uh… are you…?”

“I dunno… what’s my name? What year is this?” Her eyes flicked up to his face, and she let out a chuckle. “Nah, just kidding, kid. Had to see the look on your face.”

He watched her laugh a bit more to herself, then rifle around in her bag. Her eyes dropped to the floor, and saw all the torn clothes he’d left strewn about.

“Oh, you’ve been keeping busy, eh? You little gremlin.” Shaking her head, she picked one up and made to tear off the sleeve. “I do remember telling you I’d kill you for touching my stuff, but I guess…”

A crumpled page fell out of the shirt, and Mizar froze as it came to rest face-up; it was her drawing of the asteroid belt. Biquil could feel the air drop ten degrees as she shot up, noticing for the first time the pages scattered about her room, the spine of the sketchbook carelessly tossed behind the bed. He could see her breath hitch, her jaw set, her fists clench… and she spoke.

“You…” She said, with a dangerous quiver. “You destroyed my sketchbook.”

Biquil felt a bit of a pang at that, but he stuffed it down. “I… I told you. I don’t want to leave.” He watched Mizar bend down, flip her bag over, and start shaking everything out of it. The blood from her head was dripping now; she seemed to have completely forgotten about bandaging it. “Uh, what are you…?”

“Get in.”

“Get in what?” He blinked as she tossed the bag at him. “What? I won’t fit!”

“Magic. It’s bigger on the inside.” Mizar stalked towards him. “Get in, I’ll carry you out.”

“But-”

Mizar punched him in the mouth. Biquil remembered it like a shot of pain and then he was on the floor, stars dancing across his vision. He tried to blink open his eyes, and saw Mizar looming over him like the shadow of a giant.

“I am so, fucking, SICK OF PLAYING NICE FOR YOU!” She drove her foot into his chest. “Do you think I’m some sort of joke? That you’re just gonna come in here and tear my shit up and walk all over me? Fuck you! FUCK YOU!”

She kicked him again, and he recoiled from her. She grabbed his shoulder and wrenched him up to her.

“Look at me.” Mizar seized his stinging jaw. “Look at me! You’re gonna get in this bag, you’re gonna get off this ship, and you’re gonna pray to god that I don’t see your shitty UL face again because I will do something terrible to you. I will. Is that clear?”

Biquil stared into her eyes, and could only imagine he was seeing the face of pure evil. Her breath was rancid, and her blood was running down the side of her grimy face and dripping onto him. He couldn’t breathe; he could barely manage a single, terrified nod.

“Okay.” She took a breath. Her eyes flitted down, and then wandered up to meet his again. “Can you stand?”

He nodded, but he struggled to get his legs underneath him. She made a face and hoisted him up herself.

“Alright…” Mizar said, and brushed him off a little. She didn’t look him in the eyes. “Alright. Now… just get in the bag, okay?”

This time, she didn’t have to ask twice. He quickly stumbled over and drew the bag around him, then winced as she hoisted it up over her shoulder. His face, his ribs - he tried to cradle them as best he could, but with every little movement they sent out sharp shots of pain. It stank in the bag, too; maybe he was a little grateful now everything hurt so much, because it didn’t occur to him at the time to wonder what had been stashed in here before him.

No, in the utter darkness, all he tried to make out were sounds from the outside. Mizar’s feet, pounding on the metal. The beeps of doors as she walked through them. The odd chatter of passing pirates. They seemed to get to a place with a lot more voices; Mizar took a hard turn right, and then-

“Hey, you! Mizar!”

Jig. Biquil perked up at that voice.

“Where you going? We’re leaving in less than a trentile, and… what’s in that bag?” A dark chuckle. “Don’t tell me you’ve got other plans.”

Mizar stopped, and turned around. She didn’t say anything for a moment, and he could feel her swaying a bit, like she was suddenly way too drunk to stand.

“Hey, you listening to me? What are you, stupid?”

“Huh?”

“I said what’s in the bag!”

There was a pause, and then… “The kid. Biqop or whatever.”

He blinked. What?

“Yeah,” she said, and dropped him to the floor. “Came back to my room, and the body - whoo - it was already leaking and stinking up the place and all that junk. Gotta dump it out before we jump; oh, hey, wanna take a look?”

“Eugh!” He could hear Jig take a step back. “No! Why the fuck would I want to look at that, you gross little-”

“Because you’re gonna be in here too some day.”

“Wh… i-is that a threat?”

“I dunno. Maybe.” She picked up the bag again. “Enjoy yourself. You know I’ll be back before we leave.”

Then she walked away, and there wasn’t another word from Jig. He could feel the air change as they walked off the ship; Mizar was still going somewhere, and he wasn’t sure where that was until they went through a door and stopped.

“Alright.” She set the bag down, and uncovered him. They were in a bathroom. “Seems like I can let you out here. Come with me.”

“What?” Biquil frowned. “Where?”

“I saw a sign as I was walking over here.” Mizar took off her shawl and placed it gently in her bag. A bandage was now tied around her head, he noticed. She offered a hand. “C’mon, I’ll do you a favour.”

He was a little dubious of that, but he took her hand and let her lead him out of the bathroom. He’d seen the ODDIK station before; the pirate ship was stationed in a pretty seedy part of it, with grime on the walls and neon neurovertisments flashing at him through a crowd of shadows. Mizar kept her hand on him as she led him out, past doors and through hallways, into a different part that looked a tiny bit more cleaned up. There, she stopped and took a look around.

“What are you looking for?” Biquil asked. He saw her snap her fingers and start walking towards a man leaning by a docking station. “Who’s he?”

Mizar gave a sunny smile. “Mr Mazul?”

“Yeah?”

“Hi, we saw your ad about asteroid miners! Sorry about the look - just got out of work, at the mines. Long shifts and all that, you know how it is.”

He blinked. “Oh? Where do you work? On planet?”

Biquil saw her freeze a little at that. “Uh, yeah, sure, at…”

“There’s a uranium mine in the Polar Neighborhoods,” Biquil supplied. The man nodded.

“Oh, yeah! My cousin works there! Jedislef Mazul, you know him?”

Mizar nodded. “Yeah, uh, I think that rings a bell. Yeah, it’s a good job. It’s good pay, uh, honest work… but anyway! We’re not here for me, we’re here-” She wrapped an arm around Biquil. “-for my nephew!”

He blinked at that. Mazul looked over at him.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Biquilage.” He paused. “Uh, Astradust.”

“Alright. And how old are you?”

“He’s seventeen,.” Mizar said. “but he’s a very good worker, very driven.” Her grin turned wry. “Heh, honestly, sometimes it’s annoying how hard he works to get stuff done sometimes, you just wanna punch him in the face!”

Biquil awkwardly rubbed his chin as the man wrote something down. He looked up at Mizar, and she winked at him. He didn’t know how to interpret that.

“Okay…” Mazul started. “Just to clarify, we’re asteroid miners. We go out for cycles at a time, so you’ll go long periods without seeing your family. That okay with you?”

“That’s okay.” He made a face. “That’s… yeah. That’s okay with me.”

“Alright, then. We’re going out tomorrow, so actually it’s great you stopped by; we were hoping to get a few more onboard before then.” He extended a hand. “Welcome to the team, Biquilage.”

“Oh… oh, thank you!” Biquil took it. “That’s great! Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, we’ll go over the details with all the new hires tomorrow. Just show up here at 11th trentile, and don’t be late, okay?”

“O-okay! I won’t!”

He felt Mizar clap his back. “And voila!” She said, and the smile on her face was wide and genuine. “Nice, kid! It’s that easy!”

“Yes, it was good to meet you, Biquilage, and…” The man looked to Mizar. “Oh, I don’t think I got your name.”

Mizar blinked. “My name?”

“Yeah.”

“Uhhh…” She seemed genuinely caught off guard; Biquil could see her search for a name, but in the end what came out of her mouth was: “Martha. Martha, uh, Astrapuff.”

“Astradust.”

“I knew that,” she said, a little distantly. “Was just making a joke. Let’s go.”

They walked a little ways away, and Biquil didn’t quite know what to do now. Mizar’s arm was still around his shoulders; he tried to extract himself, and that was when she seemed to come back to herself a bit.

“Uh,” She drew her arm back, and dug into her pocket. “Hey, one more thing.”

Mizar drew her hand out, counted a couple crumpled credits, then handed them over.

“This’ll probably get you a room for tonight. Won’t be the nicest, but hopefully that don’t bother you.” She flashed a smile. “You’ve slept in worse places.”

“Thanks?” He looked up at her. “Why are you - this is your money!”

“Eh, as long as you don’t ask the people I took it from.”

“But… why are you being so nice to me? What’s in it for you?”

“I dunno, what’s in it for you asking questions like that? You want me to take it back?” She laughed, but there was an edge to it. “Look, you’re all set up, I’m going now. Have a nice life.”

She started walking away. Biquil frowned. “Mizar?”

“Byyye!”

“Martha?”

Martha froze at that. Biquil saw her hesitate; her hands clenched a bit, her shoulders rose as she breathed, and then she turned around. There wasn’t quite a smile on her face as she spoke.

“It’s a nice fake name, right? I like it. Got a good ring to it.” Her smile fell a little. “Not my name, though. Doesn’t really fit, y’know, this.”

She chuckled, and hoisted her backpack up on her shoulder.

“Anyway,” she said. “Time for me to go. Bye, kid.”

Then Biquil watched Mizar turn, and walk out of the station without another word. She disappeared behind a bend in a hallway, and a part of him thought that was the last time he’d ever see her… and he didn’t. Not for decades.

Biquil spent his life mining asteroids, making friends, sending money back to his dad. He met, he married, he settled down somewhere far from ODDIK, and some nights when he tucked his kids into bed, his mind wandered back to that one dark night on the pirate ship, the night before he almost made the biggest mistake of his life.

The night Martha stepped in and turned him back. Saved all this. And that wasn’t to say she was good, or nice - even forty years on his jaw still clicked when he ate - but when he thought of her, he liked to imagine she’d caught a break at some point. Maybe she was living somewhere outside even the UL, getting to have a quiet life where no one bothered her and she could sleep peacefully at night. It wasn’t likely, but it made him feel a bit better when he looked around at all he had and knew how lucky he was not to end up just like her.

But, of course, he did see her again. For weeks the news broadcast her mugshot on every building of the UL, and Biquil could no longer imagine that she’d lead anything close to a comfortable life. She’d spent her life in piracy, and for the last five years she’d sat on death row before she got out and tore a final, bloody rampage through UL space.

That face. Those eyes. They haunted him for the rest of his days… because no one else could see what he saw in them. Some people said they were eerily blank, others described the calculated intelligence in them… none of them would just admit she looked tired. Really, really tired.

They did, didn’t they? I mean, wouldn’t you be tired after being sent to prison? She looked the same as she did when he first laid eyes on her across the dining room.

Like she just wanted to be left alone.

[toothpastecanyon]

The Dread Pirate Mizar, and the little girl who would grow up to become her.

Story has been rearranged - Mauvana is a separate entry now.

[toothpastecanyon]

Mauvana, Chapter 10

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

    It was a cramped little space, this escape pod. Cramped with memories - maybe Mauvana should’ve mentioned this before she let Yly drop her off here.

    “Me n’ the family’ll be just upstairs if you need anything, okay?” She’d said, and then smiled. “Hopefully this’ll give you some space to think.”

    Family. Family. This felt like a family. She could feel so many different people here, people who’d used this place to store old clothes, children who’d played hide and seek, a young woman who liked to come down here and watch the stars go by in peace… all using it for an escape, in some way.

    Escape. Mauvana found it hard to focus on what she was drawing, but she found herself drawing something nonetheless. Up above her, she could hear the sounds of music, of laughter; she could still feel their thoughts pressing down on her, but a little distance took the edge off.

    They were happy thoughts. They were smiling, and she smiled too.

    She smiled. She smiled. Mauvana was… free, finally, from all of this. And she could see the stars. And she knew exactly what she wanted to do, now.

    A thought. A mind. Not her mind, and not Yly’s either.

    There were footsteps coming down the ladder, quiet ones. Mauvana looked up, and frowned when a lady peeked her head through.

    “Oh,” she said, surprised that Mauvana was already staring at her. “Uh, hi.”

    “Uh, hi.”

    “You remember me, right?” She tilted her head. “I’m-”

    “Viana.”

    It was Viana. Mauvana had been her thoughts for a time, had felt her years of crushing loneliness, had ran for her and kissed her in front of the family shop for so long it felt like eternity. It was Viana, and Viana nodded.

    “Yeah. And you’re Mauvana, right?”

    “Mauvana Seep.” She put down her pencil. “Intern with modest skill in writing and drawing… though I guess I’m not anymore? I think I’m a pirate.”

    A shiver passed through Viana’s mind at that. Before she had a chance to respond:

    “You don’t like pirates?”

    “What? Heh… it’s just, it’s maybe not a great thing to call yourself around these parts.” A nervous chuckle. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to meet you.”

    “It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think I’d see you without Yly.”

    “Yeah, she says you have a problem with crowds? She offered to come with, but I didn’t want you to be stressed out.”

    Stressed out? That probably wasn’t the best way to explain it, but Mauvana let it go.

    “I just wanted to… to say something to you.” Viana made like she wanted to hold her hands, but stopped short. “I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you, Mauvana. Thank you so much.”

    The lump in Viana’s throat matched the lump in her thoughts, filled with so many emotions she could hardly put into words. Mauvana felt herself tear up.

    “Yly… told me what happened, h-how long she spent… trying to get back… and h-how you, you finally got her out of there and I just…” She covered her mouth; her words came out now as a croak. “I-I d-don’t know how I-I can ever th-thank you enough.”

    Gratitude. The sheer amount of gratitude in her thoughts was overwhelming, like a whole crowd on its own. She could hardly see the page in front of her, but she felt herself drawing as she  tried to recompose herself.

    “I just… I… s-sorry, heh.” A shaky laugh. “T-told myself I-I wouldn’t cr-ry, b-but look at me.” A deep, deep breath: in, and out. “I just wanted… wanted to say that if you need anything, anything at all, I’m in your debt. Our whole family’s in your debt for… f-for bringing her home, just… just let us know what we can do.”

    A sniff. She wiped her eyes, and frowned.

    “Oh, no. I didn’t mean to-”

    “make you cry. It’s okay.”

    “Wh- what?”

    “She means a lot to me. Yly.” Mauvana frowned. “Or you. I don’t know.”

    Confused thoughts - they were less intense than before. Mauvana - she was Mauvana - stared past her, to the very back of the escape pod.

    “I remember how many nights I used to spend down here.” She stared out, out into the sea of stars past that little window. “I used to come down here even before Yly went missing, when I couldn’t bear being with her family - they were lovely, but… they weren’t mine. I liked to think they were somewhere out there, somewhere far away. At least that’d mean they’d escaped the fucking UL.”

    Viana recoiled somewhat at her words. “What…?”

    “And then after Yly-” Mauvana swallowed hard. “The first week after she was meant to come back, I was watching for her ship. I didn’t move, I didn’t sleep, I didn’t stop staring out of th-this window; her mother had to bring me food. I couldn’t… couldn’t leave. Not while I still thought she’d come back to me.”

    Mauvana looked down. Brought her legs up to her chest, and buried her head in them.

    “A-and… I’m sorry, Yly. I’m so sorry I stopped coming down here. I’m sorry I stopped waiting for you.” She spoke, quietly. “I’m sorry I moved on.”

    And it was silent. Dead silent. Viana had gone clammy white; her mouth was opened wide, wordless. After a few moments, she stammered out,

    “Wh-what the hell are you?”

    “I’m not you.” Mauvana frowned. “No, I’m not you. I’m a pirate.”

    “How did you do that? Wha- how did… what?”

    “Head in the clouds.” She stared at Viana’s shocked face, scared thoughts, and made a face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be you.” A pause. “I have a problem with crowds.”

    “It’s… it’s okay,” Viana managed, weakly. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to be rude, I was just… that was…”

    “Personal.”

    “That’s a… yeah.” She sighed, and glanced out of the window. “Yeah… how did you know that?”

    “Head in the clouds.”

    “What does that mean?”

    She shrugged. “That’s what Jargon always said. I’m his intern - was his intern.”

    “Internship, huh?” Viana laughed, but her thoughts didn’t laugh with her. “I’m surprised there’s still jobs at all on that hunk of rock.”

    “There are in the military! I drew up tons of posters about enlisting.”

    “Oh, joy. You worked for the propaganda guys?”

    “Yeah! It was fun!” Mauvana gave a crooked smile. “Then I got shot. But then I met Yly! So it wasn’t all bad.”

    Viana chuckled. “Well, uh, glad you had fun… how long did you have that job?”

    “They said five years.”

    “And what did you do before that?”

    “Before… what? Before my internship?”

    “Yeah.”

    “Oh, I don’t know. Things, I guess, but… I don’t remember anything before my internship.” She shrugged. “I was just… so many people for a long time, it was a big city. I have a problem with crowds - they, they get in my head, you know? And then I don’t know who I am, I’m just… other people, and their thoughts.”

    “I see.” Viana’s thoughts were slow, apprehensive, full of growing dread. “You… really don’t remember anything but the last five years?”

    “No. Nothing.” She looked up at the window. She could see the stars, but she could also see her own reflection. Her own face, and the wrinkles in it, the whiteness of her hair, the age. “I… I missed a lot of my life. I’m old, aren’t I? Older than you.”

    She didn’t have to see Viana’s solemn nod to know her answer.

    “Yeah, that… that’s not good. That’s a right pickle.” A pause. “I know you want to hug me. You can do that.”

    Viana hesitated. She reached out, touched Mauvana’s shoulders, and then pulled her into a quiet hug. She squeezed tightly, and Mauvana noted the strange shirt she was wearing. It wasn’t a uniform; it was thicker, brighter, softer, warmer. She poked at it.

    “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Mauvana.”

    “I like your shirt.”

    “I- oh, thank you. I knitted it myself.”

    “Knitted?”

    “I made it myself.” Viana drew back a little, and smiled. “I can make you something too, if you like. Get you out of those UL rags.”

    “I’d like that a lot.” Mauvana kept feeling her sleeve. “And… you don’t have to feel bad for me. I missed a lot, but I know who I am now. Or, at least, I can find out. You can help me with that, right?”

    “Of course.”

    “Then… could you tell me who Alcor the Dreambender is?”

    “Alcor the- the demon?” Viana let out a startled laugh. “Sure, I know a bit… why?”

    “Because he’s with the Dread Pirate Mizar. And they’re important, I think. To me. I don’t know why, I want to know why.”

    “Ah, you’re talking about the - what’s it called - the Alcor-Mizar connection, right?” She nodded. “I’ve heard about that. Apparently it’s some big mystery in the field of demonology.”

    “Saulji. Yly said her aunt is a demonologist. Can I talk to her?” Mauvana felt her mood drop at that. “Oh, you’re sad now. Did I say something wrong?”

    Viana shook her head. “No, no, don’t- don’t worry about it, Yly didn’t know, but… she passed away three years ago. Accident at work.”

    There was a lot left unsaid in those words; Mauvana grimaced at the details popping up in her mind. “I’m sorry. That’s not good.”

    “No, it’s… a dangerous business, you know? I’m sure, heh, she’d’ve loved to talk your head off about this subject, but… yeah.” Viana paused for a moment, nodding to herself. “Yeah… I think I know where you could find your answers, though.”

    “Where?”

    “It’s on an ex-UL planet called Kepler 22-b. Called the, uh, Stanley Pines Memorial Library, it’s a hub for a lot of demonology research - Saul used to go there for conferences. You heard of it?”

    “No. Can I go there?” Mauvana gave a crooked smile. “I think I’m banned from the UL.”

    “It’s ex-UL, don’t worry. They broke away a long time ago, there’s no sympathisers there.”

    “That’s good. I want to go there now.”

    “Then I promise, we’ll take you there.” Viana smiled. “Give us a few days to get Yly settled in, but after that, we’ll go right there, and find you your answers. Does that sound good?”

    “That sounds good. Thank you, Viana.”

    “Thank you. Really.” She put a hand on Mauvana’s shoulder, and then chuckled. “I won’t, I’ll try not to get all teary again, I know you didn’t like that. Do you want me to leave you alone for a bit?”

    “I’d want that. I have a problem with crowds.”

    “Okay.” She squeezed her shoulder once, and then stood up. “I’ll leave you be, then. Yly’ll probably be down here in a bit to check up on you, and then…” She smiled. “I could come down here too, if you want. Hey, I could teach you a bit about how to knit.”

    “Oh, that’d be great! I love your shirt!”

    “Hah, yeah, we’ll do that then!” She grinned, and her aura felt warm. “It was really, really great to meet you, Mauvana. I’ll see you soon - good luck on your drawing!”

    “Thank you! I’ll see you soon too!”

    Viana waved as she stepped out. Mauvana could feel her footsteps down the corridor, up the ladder, her mind returning to the crowd upstairs like a drop to the ocean. If she concentrated, she could track her washing over to another mind that might be Yly… but she should stop, it was already making her head hurt.

    She looked down instead, down to the drawing in her hands.

    It was still… frustratingly rough. The lines were shaky; she could make out what it was, but it annoyed her nonetheless. It was of the view outside, of the moon and the planet, the sun and the stars, the stars so far beyond, full of answers and just waiting for her to come.

    Kepler 22-b. Mauvana looked from the drawing to the real thing, and knew that somewhere in that darkness, it was there, and she could go there.

    She could go there.

    Her reflection smiled back at her.

    It was good to be free. Even if it had taken a long time, it was good to be free.

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@alviepines has inspired me - I’m opening up my askbox! If you wanna ask me anything about any of my OC’s, I’ll answer as them!

That includes OC’s like the Dread Pirate Mizar, Hadley, Noie, Benjamín, Marcia, Hannah, Lacie, and any more that I haven’t mentioned because oh no I have too many OC’s. I won’t be answering asks as Alcor because the lovely @alviepines already has you covered there!

This is an experiment, I guess? I wanna see how this goes!

[toothpastecanyon]

The Dread Pirate Mizar, and the little girl who would grow up to become her.

[toothpastecanyon]

The Dread Pirate Mizar, and the little girl who would grow up to become her. Mauvana just wants to know what she was like.