Planet: Kestra
First Insurgency War
RAYAN
Lights tore through the smog and danced with the holograms which partied on the firescapes and windows of buildings. Cross-legged with everything he needed to share his view, he drew on his sketchpad, listening for the sounds of Sanctum floats full of enforcement personnel. Cars rolled through the solar highways, where the exits flashed their greens to alert the drivers of a safe point over into the city of Odaport. He followed the lines of the skyscrapers, with the Sanctum tower as a focal point, a shining star with a cloak of the gas giant Kestra orbited, Eruda — but to view from the highest point would do the foundation a disservice to his sketch. He sat on one of the rooftops of District Omega, where pubs blasted music. Drunken patrons partied and argued. He sat there and listened to it all, and added it to the colours he saw.
Too bad I can't draw people.
He never sat in one place in the District for too long. Whenever a shadow of an enforcement float hushed nearby, he rushed away down the metallic catwalks to another roof-bridge. Rayan packed up his pencils and practice sketches back into his bag when one such float hovered nearby, rushing across a bridge connecting the two roofs. Transport ships lifted off from the distant spaceport to race into the clouds. Rayan bounced off the first fire escape, balancing on a small plank attached to another one as the float moved over the alley. He hit the ground with a huff, double-checking his bag.
Everything he needed was in place. He shoulder the bag and shuffled down the alleyway, where his boots left trails through the rustic dirt. One man stepped out of the back, throwing garbage into the chute beside the steps. Rayan froze when they eyed him with sharp grey eyes, but ignored him further as Rayan stepped into the gated square.
Graffiti lined the walls. Starlight, shooting upwards past the tower. Broken chains. Rayan followed his usual path back out of Odaport, straight to the half-working holoboard.
DISTRICT OMEGA, with the insignia of the Elites crossed out in splattered black paint. Rayan frowned down at it, but continued on his way to catch the transport pod back to the outskirts. Out of the smog and the taste of dirt, he rushed up to the transport pod as one rolled into the station. Cold air brushed through the door when it opened, and he climbed on. In the back, a couple of adults spoke in low tones, so he took a seat near the front, holding his backpack tight while another boy his age entered the pod.
Rayan sucked in a breath when they hesitated and gave him a look. "Rayan Falae?"
"Alein," he mumbled under his breath as Alein sat in the seat across from his.
"I heard you were suspended," they said as they shuffled through their own backpack.
Rayan pursed his lips. "It's not like it happened a couple days ago." The transport pod rolled out of the station. "Usually word travels faster than that, so, who split it?" Arms folded, he leaned back and tried to bite down on the heat growing in his hands and heart.
"Bowie did."
"Through his broken teeth?" Rayan grumbled.
Alein shrugged and stopped shuffling through their bag. "Maybe that's why it took so long."
Rayan dug his fingers into his palm, but breathed out his frustration. "He got suspended too, so it's not like he has any room to talk." He lifted his head when the next stop flashed on the sign at the front of the transport pod. His stop, with his house on one of the hills hugging the cliffs which snaked their way through the Kestran salt flats. He stood up, ignoring Alein's appraising gaze as he stepped off the transport pod. He waited while it rolled by, and then headed up the hill, past the gates into the front lawn.
He stopped at the front door, and then leaned around to double check the garage. I don't see Mother's hoverbyke... He took out his prismkeys, and then slid it into the door handle with a hum. Home free, he stepped into the air conditioned entryway. Lights off, he sighed and shouldered his backpack as he closed the door behind him. Another breath, and he stretched. "Nice..." He left the lights off to climb down into the basement garage, where his own solarboard waited for him for his next jaunt out, to get a clearer picture of Eruda on his favourite spot to paint. He stuffed his bag into the container, locking it tight before straightening himself out.
A sudden shiver crawled down his spine, different from the cooling air rushing through the building. He blinked, and then twisted on his heel when the lights turned on.
Mother leaned against the wall, in her crisp Sanctum uniform, where a red star rested on her breast pocket. Black hair tied up into a bun, she raised an eyebrow at him.
Rayan snapped his head to his solarboard, then back to her. "How long were you standing there?"
"Since I got back home and saw this," Mother said and held up his note he painstakingly wrote to try and keep her occupied until he came back from District Omega. "You were in the lower districts of Odaport again, weren't you?"
Rayan activated his solarboad. "I was in the Merger. Last I looked, you never said I couldn't go there in the city. You just said the lower parts were off limits." He opened up the solar sails, and frowned at the container holding his art supplies. "It's not like it's a big deal. Nothing happened."
"It is when I can't readily keep track of things in District Omega," she pointed out. "I don't want you getting hurt or worse, Rayan, not since what happened at the collegiate—"
Rayan hopped onto his solarboard. "I'm not the one who got hurt," he said and held on to the ropes. "I'll be back later." He clicked the panel as he came close to it, and the back doors opened wide out of the knoll their hill stood on. Orange light spread from the intake resonator, and beautiful sails stretched further to catch the sun. His boots magnetized to the floor, and he rushed away from home.
Farther out, factories dotted the salt flats. He left the horizon of tall skyscrapers behind him to the emptiness in front of him. He wrapped the twine around his fist, then pressed his heel on the booster.
Freedom.
He was going to be free.
He braced himself for wind as he took on speed. Faster than he could dream, a little piece. Rocky sediment upturned from the power, revealing the crystalline undersides. Rayan leaned against the railing, following the movement of the board and the wind. He held on tight to his moving support, following his usual route to his favourite outcropping. He sped a couple laps around the nearby factory, then sailed away. Over the sharp ridges, he kept his pace and adjusted the sails.
Far away. Farther than he could ever hope to be.
Rayan reached the overlook, then docked the solarboard into a crevice and took out his supplies. His sketch pad, his brushes and pencils. I guess that's one good thing to come out of those art lessons Mom cajoled me into... I'm actually... good at it. Little by little, he found enjoyment in the gentle expression. Every moment he captured by hand and the way he viewed the world to share it with others. No one else saw things the same, he learned. Mother praised and encouraged his artistic talent, and he almost forgot his school issues.
His grades went up. He found himself tolerating school.
I should've known that wouldn't last. He sat down on the outcrop and placed his hands in his lap. I didn't start that fight that time... and it's not like the head would let me explain. At least Mom believed me... He flicked to a new tab on his sketchpad. Many of his doodles went nowhere, or came into being the way he envisioned them. With each attempt, he improved. Eruda, the majestic giant he'd use as a backdrop for the Odaport skyline, served as a gravitational force for Kestra. He measured the curve in his head, and got to work on his piece, determined to put the hours whittling in the lower district to use.
This will test my skills.
He sketched the gas giant with the salt flats and distant cliffs acting as a happy medium for a barren landscape of solar highways. He wrote down notes for colours, shading, and perspectives on different layers of his doodle.
He wanted nothing more than to journey to the stars. His pencil hovered over his drawpad. Mom gets to go up there sometimes. For work.
Deep oranges and golds gave him reflective ideas to place among his notes. In the distance, Odaport, with the towering skyscrapers he sketched not from high above, but far below. He released a puff through his nose, then returned to his solarboard.
The freedom was worth it.
Solar sails powered up, he pressed his foot against the booster and made the journey back home. Wind flowed through his jacket, and with the speed, he could forget everything.
He passed one of the factory rigs, and sped underneath it as metal groaned above his head. He laughed, but time slowed down. A Digger detached from the rig to collect the sediment piles. A yelp escaped his throat when he crashed headlong into it. It squeaked out distress and sparked from several joints. Shit! Rayan tugged at the twine to stabilize his holoboard, but his heart stopped when his boots slipped from the clash of energy. He rolled onto the ground, skidding across the dust as the digger squealed. His holoboard steadied itself in place, unharmed.
Tears bit at his eyes at a flash of white-hot pain crawling up his arm. He sat there, gripping onto his sleeve as he tried to wipe off the dust. Trails of blood marked his skin, and he bit down on his tongue as the pain continued. Ow... He forced himself to his feet, where a wave of nausea fluttered through his temples as he stumbled his way to the holoboard and the digger.
"Oh... no..." Rayan jumped when a repair drone flew straight to the digger.
"Hey!" someone called.
He snapped around, where a man wearing the same thing as Mother rushed through the rig. Rayan gasped, and jumped onto his solarboard, reactivating it and slamming his heel on the booster.
That repair bot can fix it. Mom won't have to know...
Grasslands replaced salt flats, and he continued his speed, though his arm screamed. He narrowly dodged a pile of rocks while pain rolled down his elbow. He moved straight for the hill, bringing out his keychain in fumbled hands to whistle into it. The hidden door opened into the hill, and he flew into it. The blast doors closed behind him as he docked his board. Mom was nowhere in sight.
Did she go out again?
Another flash of hot pain rocked down his arm, and he rolled up his sleeve. Skin torn, he covered it again with a hiss, and shuffled back to the staircase. He climbed up it, listening. "Mom?" he asked, but bit on his tongue at his own wavering voice. He twisted around the corridor. "Mom?"
"I'm here, Rayan," she said from the living room. Rayan stayed still as she left from underneath the arch. "Did you—" Her brow furrowed. "What happened?"
"Oh, this? Uh—" Rayan skirted around her to reach the staircase up to the bedrooms and forced a wide smile on his face. "I tripped on the overlook — but I'm fine!"
Mom raised an eyebrow. "Rayan, you're bleeding."
"It was a hard trip," he said.
Mother sighed. "Okay, but Rayan, we need to have a talk about something—"
"Can it wait?" he asked as he held his arm.
Mom opened her mouth, but Rayan winced when the entry bell rang through the house. He stepped out of her way and hid in her shadow as she answered the door.
A dirty-blonde man stood there, his own gray uniform dusty with arms folded and hazel eyes appraising. One of Mother's coworkers.
"Garrett? I wasn't expecting you so soon," Mother mused. "We aren't going to leave yet."
"It's not about that," Garrett mumbled. "We had a problem at the factory... something collided with one of the diggers — and I know it wasn't a salt worm. It looked like a solarboarding accident."
Rayan edged back when Garrett eyed him, but Mother tilted her head. "I see... what is the extent of the damages?"
"Well, the digger is going to need some new parts." Garrett flipped open a lighter to set fire to a small cigar. He placed it between his teeth and puffed out a plume of smoke off to the side. "As for the other thing — I'm ready to leave."
"Leave...?" Rayan questioned.
Mother rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I appreciate you bringing this to my attention, Garrett. Rayan, go up to your room, we still need to have that talk."
"Yes, Mom." Rayan held his arm and escaped the appraising glare. He bounded up to the second level of the house. He forced himself to his room, a likely trap for a lecture. Frustration and pain bit at his knuckles as he tossed himself onto his bed with a groan.
Footsteps climbed up the stairs, and he held his breath when his door opened.
"Rayan—"
"I didn't mean it!" He whipped back up to his feet. "I was just—the digger was—" He bit down on his tongue and wiped the last of his tears of pain out of his eyes. "I'm sorry."
Mom stood there with a first aid kit, then motioned for him to sit down. "It's dangerous around the factories," she said, voice firm but never raised. "This is why. Give me your arm."
Rayan held it out and glowered at his wall. "It's not like I can solarboard through the city." He hesitated. "Leaving. Are you leaving somewhere?"
"We're leaving," Mom corrected as she wiped down his arm.
"Where?"
"Eteran — the town I grew up in. Eastpoint."
Rayan blinked. "Out in the middle of nowhere. Why?"
Mom frowned. "I... wish to get away from Kestra for a while."
"Is it because of me?" he accused.
"No, though I'm hoping this will help you too," she pointed out and wrapped up his arm before tapping his shoulder. "I think you'll like it, Rayan."
"Let me guess, I can't bring my solarboard?" Rayan folded his arms.
"No, seeing as there's not going to be a lot of room for it." Mom hauled herself off his bed. "If there was near Eastpoint, I'd allow it."
Rayan brushed the bandage. "Do I have to do anything for the Digger?"
Mother shook her head. "You can do something by making sure you have everything ready, and I'll handle the Digger. Accidents happen, and I'm just glad you weren't majorly hurt." Her smile returned. "I promise, Rayan, going to Eteran isn't a punishment. Far from it. Eastpoint is a wonderful area, I'm sure you could find things to sketch."
Rayan frowned. "What about Dad?"
Bitterness filled his throat when Mother's ice-blue gaze drifted to the side. "He's... going to be held up for a little while longer. For the time being, it'll just be me and you."
"For the time being... as if that's not the case usually," he grumbled and then moved around his room to get packing.
Time took both his parents away, bit by bit. Unlike Dad, Mom tried, who was arguably far busier than Dad. No friends, unable to tolerate school for long.
Unable to face the injustice of watching a fellow classmate suffer due to someone else's cruelty.
I don't see how Eastpoint will be different...