Escape Velocity

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙾𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏

❝ 𝚃𝚠𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜. 𝙴𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛. ❞

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Ouya's planet was dying.

              Or maybe that was the wrong word – Lyak III itself would still exist, albeit as a desolate craggy rock volleyed lifelessly between twin suns. But the Lyakhren species would be dead, along with everything that made Lyak III a planet of any note at all.

              Ouya's Mother didn't share their environmental concerns. Why worry about preserving the planet for future generations, when she could exploit it here and now? She brushed off any attempts at conservation conversation, too preoccupied with maximising the Kahera Family profits and recruiting new Fathers to compensate for the recent exodus of Kahera males. Ouya didn't blame them for leaving. Fathers were meant to leave, supposed to seek out the most prosperous Family and serve the wealthiest Mother, offspring be damned.

              It still stung when their Birth Father left though.

              Ouya did not want to be a Father. They didn't want to live the rest of their life subservient to a Mother, indulging her every whim and vying for permission to fertilise her eggs. What a demeaning existence. Yet equally they did not want to be a Mother. They lacked the shrewdness to head their own Family, the ruthlessness required to destroy anyone who got in their way. Ouya's Mother was impatient for them to trigger a second puberty and finally become a proper reproductive adult. Not the androgynous genetic misfire they'd evolved into the first time. But Ouya kind of liked being a genetic misfire. Nulhra might be considered fundamentally useless members of Lyakhren society, but that was okay. Ouya didn't really want to help society destroy their own planet for profit anyway.

              What Ouya wanted to do was be with Yani.

              They had a tendency to want impossible things.

Ouya swiped open their communicator, an intricate gesture that required all six fingers. Yani's message was due to arrive at any moment. There was no way they could concentrate on star charts now. They drummed their fingers impatiently across the shuttle control panel.

              The communicator chirped and a pleasant warmth filled Ouya's core. Yani's latest message was a long one. Initially, his Lyakhra had been too stilted to exchange much more than a few stiff lines at a time. Feeling nostalgic, Ouya flipped open Yani's very first message while they waited for his latest communication to download.

𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝙾𝚞𝚢𝚊! 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝙻𝚢𝚊𝚔𝚑𝚛𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛! 𝙳𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎? 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘, 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎. 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚊𝚗 𝙸𝚕𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚢𝚊𝚔𝚑𝚛𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍, 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎!

– 𝙾𝚙𝚒 𝚂𝚠𝚎 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚒

              They smiled. Yani's Lyakhra had come a long way, as had their own Ilsereen (or at least that was what Yani had assured them). Now their exchanges spanned several thousand words, covering everything from sharing local recipes to debating the policies of the Interstellar Alliance. Talking to Yani was the easiest thing in the star system. He was thoughtful, hilarious, and inquisitive. He didn't think it was a weakness to help people. He didn't think that any one Family was more important than all the others.

              Sometimes Yani felt less alien to Ouya than the rest of the Lyakhren species.

              Ouya frowned. It was a dangerous thought. The Ilseri were aliens, even if Yani didn't feel like one. Their six limbs were strange and knobbly, their planet soft and sticky, their skies thick with poisonous sulphur. And Ouya's world was just as perilous to Yani, with its nitrogen-rich atmosphere and carnivorous parasites. The bugs didn't bother with the Lyakhren, but they found Ilseri flesh to be particularly irresistible. Ouya shuddered at the thought.

              They turned back to their star charts. There had to be a compromise. There had to be a planet somewhere, in the Interstellar Alliance or otherwise, that could house both Lyakhren and Ilseri. Ouya had spent aeons poring over their star charts, comparing atmospheric conditions and political affiliations to no avail. But they kept going. Hundreds of new planets applied to join the Interstellar Alliance every solar. Surely one of them had a suitable habitat?

    The communicator chirped again. Yani's message was here.

    It began casually, detailing what kind of ships he'd been repairing at work and what new languages he was studying. Ouya laughed at that; Yani was never satisfied when there was something new to learn. He wrote about how he'd visited Neera's new artificial moon (which was architecturally very impressive but emitted a horrible smell), and his sister's upcoming Joining Celebration. He wished that he could bring Ouya. They'd love the jingling music and the tart insect cakes. They'd love meeting Yani's family – a real family, not a Family – and friends. They'd love to sit together at the end of the night and watch the sky burst into the golden glow of sunrise.

    Ouya still stared at the message long after they'd finished reading it. They stared at their star charts, strewn haphazardly across the control panel. They stared at the sky, mottled with the flickering sparks of distant planets that teemed with life.

    They would find somewhere to be together. The universe was vast and unending and it had to contain at least one planet where an Ilseri and a Lyakhren could grow old together. And Ouya was going to find it, whether they had to visit a hundred or even a thousand new worlds.

    They brushed the star charts onto the floor and initiated launch sequence. It was time to leave. They could do this. They had to do this. There was no other option.

    After all, Yani was an Ilseri. And an Ilseri could only fall in love once.