Grohl Sector
"The Dark Forest"
>>>Nayomi hated space. It was dark, silent, dangerous; glimmering with dim stars at the fringe of vision like faerie lights – so distant they could never be touched, yet taunted with the illusion of a way forward, a destination, always. The yawning cold brutality of it dwarfed her, dwarfed everything, shrunk her ship to nothing but a weak thin metal box ripe to be crumpled at any second by nothing more than a stray piece of icy rock.
>>>It could swallow anything in seconds.
>>>Turn it inside out.
>>>Vaporize, >>>shred, >>>depressurize, >>>freeze,>>> d i s i n t e>g> r>>a>>>t>>>>e.
Light dimmed. Sound died. It was terrifying what nothing could do. The absence, the nothing, the void, the pure blackest blackness – it devoured all and could never be sated. Horrific twisted creatures that consumed nebulae and preyed on dying stars could survive the pure phantasmal rending force of space, but even they were nothing to it. Just minuscule reflections of the dark chaos. To fly up through beautiful blue skies and pearlescent clouds, and then to have the warm vital blanket of atmosphere suddenly ripped away, leaving her to fall into a directionless omnipresent hungry abyss... she hated it. Everything in her body and mind cried out to return to the planet, to home. Space had no living Force, no singing creatures, no planetary body humming with quiet power beneath her toes. There were threads of course, faint, weak, pale, like wisps of smoke drifting through the void of space. Barely detectable. Even the fuel her little HWK-310 burned was more lively.
>>>That was why she needed the plants.
>>>Nine little pots, of various sizes and materials, sat in different places around her ship, tucked into nooks and shelves and on top of the pilot's console. Little bits of green and red and purple, filaments of life, and the Force, that would keep her company on the week-long trip as slow lightspeed engines propelled her to Tatooine.
>>>Nayomi checked the secondary holographic display beside the steering yoke, adjusting her trajectory slightly to accommodate for the gravitational well of a distant star. Her hand drifted up to the bright orange clay-fired pot sitting above the winking lights of the gravity and life support system readouts, decorated by her village quarter's children with slightly wobbly flowers and goats. Her fingers lightly brushed the spiky tendrils of the succulent growing from the pot, gauging moisture and stiffness and temperature—happiness, really. The rugged little fellow seemed fine, perhaps a tad cold. Nayomi shifted the pot farther away from the translucent canopy and closer to some of the warmer electrical circuits. She flicked a switch to lock in the trajectory and got up, averting her eyes from the blackness beyond her cockpit. She stepped to the left through the numerous hovering blue translucent holographic displays, stooped just beyond the pilot seat and slipped down the cramped five stairs to her bunk, fore of the cockpit.
>>>Plants didn't whisper, exactly. It was more accurate to say they clicked, or burbled. They didn't make noise, of course, nothing audible to her mirialan ears. It just felt like a deep slow underwater kind of clicking. A little chorus of clicks and burbles poured down onto her from the four plants peeking out of the top bunk, each a bit different in pitch and lilt.
>>>“How are you all doing? Comfortable?” she asked.
There would be no real reply, but plants often liked sound waves anyway, especially the fungi, so she spoke aloud often. It kept her from going crazy, too. She grabbed her bundle of yarn and kroshei hook off the lower bunk, gently kicked the pile of excess wool fabric into place in front of the wash closet door, and plopped down. It was the only comfortable place to sit cross-legged in the whole ship; everywhere else was too cramped, narrow, or filled with wiring. Nestled with her back against the closed door, Nayomi located her last loop in the knitted sock and began to add another chain of tight kroshei loops to the shape. Socks always sold, no matter where she went. Humans and humanoids were everywhere in the galaxy, and they always needed socks. Of course, Nayomi had only been to Tatooine and a few other nearby worlds, but still. Their need for socks had to be the same. People on Tatooine especially needed them for frigid nights and to keep the sands from blasting their skin clean off during the day. She would be able to make several pairs before arriving as long as she avoided being idle. Kroshei was meditation for Nayomi; avoiding idleness would be easy.
>>>For two days, she knitted and hummed to the plants and slept below their clicking and ate her dried foods, avoiding the black of space outside the thin plates of the hull. Swaddled in blankets, deep in a trance of loops and knots, Nayomi felt a tickle. A tug, a wavering, a compulsion. Her fingers did not stop, but the Force pulled her eyes toward one of the four plants on the top bunk, a bromeliad with nested cupped red leaves. Something. There was something. Important. Need to move. Touch. Water. Her fingers slowed to a stop. The plants had never gasped for water before. The blankets sloughed off Nayomi as she stood, drawn toward the plant. Her right hand laid the half-made sock and hook down on the bottom bunk as her left reached for one of the rungs by the beds. She carefully lifted the plant down so she could look at the leaves properly. Her stomach dropped.
>>>“Oh no,” she said.
>>>Two little wet black eyes peered up at her from one of the cup-like leaves, and glass green slimy skin pulsed once.
>>>“How did you get in here? How did I not notice you before?” Nayomi asked the tiny frog. “Space is no place for you! We were so careful when we loaded everything...”
>>>She sank to the floor, cradling the pot. There were no bugs for the poor thing to eat, no running water, no nice cool mud or sun or algae or microorganisms. No living Force! How could such a tiny thing survive? Nayomi's vision began to swim with brimming tears. The little glass frog crawled out of the leaf to sit on the edge, revealing the diminutive pond of water in the nested cup of the bromeliad. How clever! Such a smart, beautiful, delicate thing, hiding in there. She reached a finger out in admiration, and the frog leaped to her hand, its wet sticky feet like the tickle of rain. “Oh! I'm not a plant, silly girl. I know I'm greenish but I'm far too warm for you.” She brought the creature closer to her face to observe the pulsing of its throat and sticky blinking. Nayomi could not help but smile. Living things always made her glow inside. The frog lifted its eyes to look at her.
>>>“...You came here to keep me company, didn't you?” she grinned, then shook her head. “As the Force wills it to be.” Nayomi gently set the little frog back onto its secret pond flower, and lifted the pot back up to the second bunk. Hands on her hips, she turned to scrutinize the wash closet. “Now, we need to make you a better environment,” she said aloud. “Space is a terrible place, but Tatooine won't be good for you either. Too dry. And I don't have enough fuel to divert to somewhere more hospitable.” She frowned. Bundling up the wool and blankets she had left on the floor and tossing them onto the bottom bunk, Nayomi cleared the doorway to the wash closet and toggled the door open. With a soft hiss, the narrow door slid into the wall and revealed her spartan white refresher unit. It could fit two sentients shoulder to shoulder between the walls, but only one between the toilet and sanitizer sink when it was folded out. A shower of water could be calibrated to rain on the occupant, drain through a fine grating in the floor, and be recycled for re-use. Nayomi almost never used it for more than a few seconds at a time, but for a little amphibious creature...The wash closet could be kept warm and slightly damp, and she could move half of the plants in there, perhaps even propagate more. As long as the toilet was firmly sealed, the frog would be safe. She looked back at the bromeliad.
>>>“I guess I'll have to make up a home for you here then.”
>>>The socks would have to wait.
Continued from...Shisukana
Continued at... Tatooine
