Custom Galactic Feli
The clink and clank of tools against metal rang through the barn, causing a few wild Schismis to flutter off from the rafters and take flight in the carefully pressurized air of the fantastically massive dome. So clear and high up was the glass that most of the residents tended to forget it was there, instead seeing themselves as “living among the stars”. Of course, there was always the reminder of the specialized survival suits that they had to don anytime they made their way through the triple locks of the dome and out into the “between” that lay natural and exposed to the moon’s elements. But that quickly became so routine for anyone who made a habit of traveling to the neighboring towns and cities that it became akin to donning “going out clothes” for someone down on Subeta proper.
There was one resident though who never forgot; who was constantly aware of the thick, necessary barriers – be it dome or suit or shuttle – that kept them apart from the timeless and fantastical dust of ancient stars and the cold vacuum of emptiness that offered a tantalizingly unknown yet deadly experience to any who tried to touch it. That separation buzzed in the back of their senses at all times, just as the beach’s waves become background melody in the ears of the residents at Delphi’s coast or the chill rising from sun-baking snow becomes a default companion to the skin of those who called the Artic Frost home. Despite the common sense that guided them otherwise, there was a ceaseless thrum of desire, like a song calling them home, that made them long to tear down the barriers and reach out to the great vastness with bare paws.
And it was this resident, whose night-sky-navy fur was swirled with such a unique sun’s-ray-golden pattern and whose heart sang for the stars, that lay flat on her back under a shuttlecraft in the barn that night. She gritted her teeth, clenching her jaw down as she braced back against the cold, hard cement floor so she had the right force to solidly secure the final bolt.
Sliding out from under the craft, she spryly shifted back onto her feet and brushed her paws off against one another, space dust drifting slowly from them to the floor, before bracing them against her hips and staring with satisfaction at a job done well. It had been a labor of love – okay, mostly love with a sprinkle of unfiltered frustration and the unfiltered language that came with it – to get the old ship not just structurally solid but also running smoothly. And it was all going to be worth it … she hoped.
Some called her crazy when the rumors of her current project spread around the city. But those who knew her, or even knew of her, also knew not to doubt. It was a rare phenomenon for her projects to ever truly fail, no matter how spectacular or outlandish they seemed to others. She was as patient as she was intelligent, and almost as intelligent as she was curious. She did not struggle to move at an intentional and mindful pace, and often spent more time diligently researching and planning than she did on the physical part of a project. And this project was no exception. Researched, planned, and put together with the same care and skill as all her work, this project stood out amongst the rest not for any brilliance or ingenuity but rather for its uncommon and personal origins.
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It began with a dream.
She was … floating. There was no directionality, no marker by which she could orient herself. Around her was endless space, all-encompassing, all she could see. Like being submerged in the open ocean – no bottom to rest your feet on, too deep for any glow of the sun to call you up through the surface. Just … endless sea. Or, here – endless space. One could imagine perhaps the canvas was once the darkest black, the black of an ancient void that no light had yet to touch. But now, alive with nebulas and stars, asteroids and rings, galaxies turning to their own beats – the canvas was covered with color. Color so beautiful it was beyond words.
She was not afraid. She felt like she was drifting atop a gentle, warm current. Like it had held her softly, safely as she dozed and had woken her when it was time.
Time.
Time … for what?
She flipped, rotating her body 180 degrees on her horizontal axis as she looked intently around. She was suddenly aware – suddenly sure - that there was something here that needed her attention. The reason it was now, here that she was woken.
And there, in the distance dancing and glimmering like golden fire, she felt the pull. Like metal pulled to magnet, like voice drawn into its place in a harmony – she swam towards it, gliding gently more through the propulsion of intention than of her physical movements.
And at last, beyond the red star and the asteroid belt, here it was. The constellation, her constellation, calling her … home. She slowed her glide, ending by rotating her rear under her so that she hovered as if standing before the great golden stars. With anticipation she reached out, the warmth reaching her paws before the glow did, and …
And thatwas it.
She was in her own bed, in her own loft, in her own home, on Atebus. Out her window, through the dome and distant in the sky, hovered Subeta. To the east the lights of the great city glowed, casting the wild moonlands around it in an array of purples, creams, and maroons.
It wasn’t uncommon for her to have vivid dreams. She often found that her brain processed and dumped information in excess at night. It made sense, as during the day her senses were absorbing information from the environment as rapidly as her brain was pulling and mulling over information from sources far beyond her body’s reach. There was little time during her days to sit with everything being gathered, processing power was put towards immediate challenges and long-stored puzzles. And thus, her dreams were like motion pictures – detailed and lengthy, vivid and layered with rich casts and – at times – little logic. But this dream was … different. It left her with a strange buzz in the back of her mind, a tingle that whispered to her of a puzzle she was so close to completing, an answer she hadn’t realized she needed.
For the first week or two after her dream, she went about life as normal and kept pace on other projects. It was busy season at the university where she worked free-lance assisting with research projects, and she had filled the rest of her schedule volunteering with the local youth summer programs – the same one she had attended as a young Feli. She delighted in teaching the children about the rich sciences that created their world and looked forward each year to the experiment fair where she helped curious young minds build and test and explore to their hearts’ content.
But at some point each day, she caught herself mulling the dream. Whenever she let her mind wander, she found it walking back through the journey, as if mapping out the path again and again until it was cemented in her mind and could not ever be forgotten, as if something inside her knew how imperative the information would be.
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Nearly two weeks after the dream first arrived, she sat in her home office – a small upstairs room wrapped with overflowing bookshelves who came together opposite the door to frame a large desk that was made of dark moon stone, heavy-laden with organized piles of reference material and scrawled notes, and sitting centered below a round window who’s frame was painted a deep golden color – that it all came crashing together into a singular and poignant revelation of a truth that had been staring her in the face, literally.
She gasped.
Eyes wide and heart pounding so solidly that she would have expected to walk away with bruised ribs, she grabbed a spare piece of parchment paper and carefully, almost reverently, placed small dots in a seemingly nonsensical manner. She squinted in concentration and then, as if needing to prove it to herself further, passed back over the page – this time pressing hard enough to push through the paper and leave a hole where each dot had been. With shaking paws, she held the paper up to the dying light of the day’s sun.
There, cast at her in hues of gold and pink, lay the constellation from her dream.
Ever so slowly, she allowed her arms to drop. The page slipped from view, but the constellation remained. Reflected in the round window that overlooked the bustling city and the deep space above that had called to her all her life was the face of a young feli with night-sky-navy fur kissed with golden swirls and lines.Her face.
Her fur.On which, between her soft rounded ears and above her bright, clever eyes sat the constellation from her dream.A golden pattern, curving and turning, tracing the stars.
And she knew.
Knew that her closed adoption was for something beyond the “typical” reasoning.
Knew that her beloved and supportive parents, who still lived in the modest and welcoming apartment in Atebus proper where she was raised (and where she still visited them several times most weeks), had held back nothing when they told her the story of the somewhat mysterious phone call from the unnamed adoption agent who rang them up one day about their adoption application and invited them to meet her.
Knew that the ceaseless tugging on her heart by the vast space above was not just curiosity, but a call. And that the golden constellation upon her fur was not just lucky patterning, but rather a lingering mother’s kiss, a map - for when the time was right.
For … now.
- - - - - - - - - -
Her parents, as supportive and sure of her success as they had always been, waved from inside the dome as she stood on the rocket’s threshold in the blue and gold space suit. They would miss her tangibly and heavily, but they had no hesitations or regrets encouraging her on this journey. They knew she was and had always been destined for things beyond their small moon, knew that her heart was bigger than most, and that she whatever she chose – it would be used to gift the many. She would return, if it was right to do so. And they would be delighted when she did. She would find what she was meant to find, they had no doubt. Because whatever mystery called her, she always chased it to the end.
A loving collection of her mentors, students, and friends stood around them. Some beamed with pride over their amazing friend’s accomplishments while others held back tears over the uncertain amount of time they would now spend apart – equally loving in their emotions, and equally supportive of her newest grand adventure.
While only her parents and a few of her closest companions knew the full story of this journey, it raised no questions in anyone who had heard about it (and most people in the town, plus a good chunk of city folk had). She was, after all, known for her insatiable curiosity and fearlessness when it came to pursuing answers.
With a final look back at those who filled her heart, knowing they would forever serve as a beacon guiding her back, Felistar stepped into the rocket and ensured the door thumped and hissed sealed behind her. She flicked switches and checked dials, walking through the steps of launch with great care and a practiced paw. All the while feeling a mounting wave of emotions – excitement, joy, sadness, fear, eagerness – that swelled until it crested above her.
The engines kicked in.The rocket rumbled and vibrated with readiness.The wave crashed down and washed over her.
With a heart full of certainty and unbridled joyful anticipation, she flipped the last safety switch off and ignited the launch booster. The rocket, and the curious feli within, rose with great force towards and through the moon’s atmosphere until all the adoring crowd in the dome could see was a small bright dot in the endless canvas of space like a new star,a felistar,chasing her destiny,off on the adventure of a lifetime.
Yuzu.Wallpaper by LiveInternet.
Ring Graphic by
Ringo.Recolor Overlay by
Necolasa.Name Art by
Chrysariel.