Starsingers - Part 1

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by bloodsword

by bloodsword

A/N: Entry into round 2 of the Smackdown, Theme: Space Exploration, Visual Prompts: Pic#3 Planet with asteroids, moon and star, Pic#4 Craft flying over mountains, Pic#5: Explosion of color/nebula, Pic#6: Chimp and astronaut holding hands, Pic#8 Blue shadow world/holographic survey, Pic#9 Twinkies

He swam in the velvety darkness, wrapped from head to toe in ebony silk as the stars sang to him. With their whistles and their crackling pops, they spoke to each other in a language like no other. In the treble and hum of x-ray noise, they stretched their voices across the cosmos. And in between the warp and woof of modulated static, they sang their lonely songs. After a thousand lifetimes, he was finally here, in this in-between place, where he could hear those songs. And the beauty of their stellar chorus was enough to make him weep with joy.

A silent chromatic wave cresting over the darkness, color burst into the ebony clad void; rainbow hues in brilliant, startling shades. Their cacophony drowned out the muted chorus, their shouts of sensation overcame the static.

Louder and louder the color became, until there was nothing else. And just when he thought his mind would explode from the sensory overload, it all twisted into a multicolored vortex and, with a gurgling cough, he found himself on his hands and knees, vomiting onto the deck.

"It's a little rough, that first one," a gravelly voice said from nearby. "Nobody can make their first transition without puking." Then a hairy hand, with longer than normal fingers, was thrusting a golden oblong into his face.

"What is that?" he asked in a thick voice as he tried to marshal his scattered thoughts, which still echoed with the eerily beautiful starsong.

"I believe they call it a 'Twinkie'," the gravelly voice replied, it's tone cultured and educated. "A collection of organic chemicals, stabilizers and sugar consumed as a treat."

"A Twinkie," he dully repeated, the rest of the voice's description fading into background noise. He took it with a trembling hand.

"That's it," the voice said. "Now eat it. The sugar and various chemicals will make you feel better."

He dutifully took a bite and began to chew. Damn, it was sweet! But, as the voice promised, he immediately felt better upon swallowing. And better yet after the second mouthful.

As he popped the last bite into his mouth, his head finally clearing, the voice spoke again.

"Now, isn't that better?" it asked, and he nodded.

"Much," he replied, looking up towards the voice's source. "Thank you, ..."

His own voice trailed off when he found himself looking into the slightly amused features of an adult male standard chimpanzee. One that was dressed in the dark green jumpsuit of a primary engineer.

"Thaddeus," the chimp supplied, revealing himself as the owner of the gravelly voice. "Thaddeus Strong. I'm the Summer Twilight's chief engineer."

"Kor Blaine," he replied, easing back onto his haunches to put himself at the chimps eye level even as he took Thaddeus' offered hand and gave it a shake. "They didn't tell me in orientation that there'd be simanoids on this jump."

"Then we're even, Blaine," Thaddeus replied with a fang-bearing grin. "Because they didn't tell me we'd be jumping with a synthetic."

Blaine frowned. How did the chimp know? Blaine had been assembled and grown to maturity in the finest tanks money and modern science could construct. He was virtually the same as a natural born human, the differences so slight as to be undetectable, even by a genetically altered chimp with opposable thumbs.

Yet Thaddeus had uncovered his identity within moments of meeting him.

"I can see by the play of emotions on your face that you're wondering how I knew," Thaddeus said, his tone casual. "Let's just say I've a nose for such things." He leaned forward to give Blaine a quick slap on the shoulder. "Fear not, my artificial friend. Your secret is safe with me. We, the misbegotten children of Humanity's twisted genius, have to stick together."

The chimp took a step back to rub his hands together.

"Now, if you have your feet under you, let's get you sorted. We have perhaps twenty standard minutes before the Twilight is ready to make her next transition. If we hurry, you might get to watch from the observation deck!"