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EMBARK ON A THRILLING JOURNEY ACROSS!
STARTING TODAY, each newsletter (2x weekly) brings you a new chapter of GOING ACROSS, the story of Nova's daring quest across galaxies.
GOING ACROSS
Chapter 1: The Leap
Something precious had been taken from him. Stolen across the stars, far beyond the reach of his home galaxy, Inferife. Nova didn’t know who or why—only that he would stop at nothing to retrieve it. His journey would demand more than grit and determination; it would demand daring leaps through the unknown.
He stood in the cool metallic air of the docking bay on Planet Peart, his ship, The Lynx, waiting silently behind him. Nova, just 23 years old, carried himself with a quiet confidence instilled by his mother’s love and nurture. Tall with an athletic, muscular build, he had brown hair that fell loosely around his light skin. His particularly large eyes glimmered with a patient, resilient intellect that seemed to glow on his face. Dressed casually in a light-colored half-zip sweatshirt and joggers, he looked as if he belonged equally among the stars and in the quiet forests surrounding the docking bay. Peart’s ringed moon cast pale light over the crystalline leafy trees, their sparkling branches framing him in the twilight. But Nova’s mind was elsewhere—focused on the path ahead. His first stop: the Ora Nebula, where he’d acquire comet cards, navigational data to guide him to the edge of the galaxy.
He boarded The Lynx, sliding into the pilot’s seat and keying in the comet card for Ora. The ship hummed to life, its engines firing in steady rhythm as it lifted off. “Course locked,” the system chimed. Peart disappeared beneath him as the golden glow of the Ora Nebula began to fill the view ahead.
The Ora Nebula, a radiant cloud of orange and gold, was a bustling hub for travelers, run by the Gale community -a federation of traders, mechanics, and inventors. It glimmered with the energy of many ships resting at its gaseous expanse. As Nova approached, the ship’s sensors pinged, guiding him to a docking station.
Inside the nebula’s port, the air shimmered with golden light, particles of dust floating like fireflies. Nova stepped off his ship, scanning the crowd of beings and machines around him.
The gas station was a quiet hum of activity, a far-flung outpost nestled between the endless stretch of barren starscapes. Nova stepped inside, the automatic doors hissing open. The station’s convenience store was crammed with rows of brightly colored bottles and cans, each boasting flavors alien to half the galaxy’s inhabitants.
He picked a drink at random—a cobalt-blue can promising “Frosted Mint Fizz” in three languages—and made his way to the attached café. A few tables were scattered across the seating area, and the clinking of utensils against plates mingled with the low murmur of conversations.
Nova chose a seat near the back, far from the more populated tables. He cracked open his drink and leaned back, letting his gaze wander across the room.
That’s when it started.
Nova sipped his drink, trying to tune out the escalating voices near the counter.
“I trusted you!” one of the beings growled, its spiny arms flaring. “You said you know where the watch is!”
“I said I know there is a watch,” the other snapped, its translucent skin glowing faintly orange. “I never said I knew where it is!”
“Don’t twist your words! You never said that!” the first being roared, stepping closer.
Nova sighed, realizing he could hear every word clearly because his translator was still on. He flicked it off with a quick tap on his wrist device, muting the argument and bringing a moment of peace. The world shifted back to muffled clicks and growls, and he leaned back, letting the quiet settle over him.
A being sitting beside Nova shook their head and muttered, “Nobody has patience these days. Look at them, fighting like they’ve never eaten. Oh, Hart!”
Nova remained seated, watching the spectacle with a mix of curiosity and unease. Something felt off. The fight was too sudden, too intense, as if neither of them fully understood why they were fighting in the first place.
And then, just as quickly as it had started, it ended.
He took a slow sip of his drink, his brow furrowed. The air seemed to hum faintly, like static after a storm. He glanced around, but no one else appeared to notice the peculiar tension lingering in the wake of the fight.
But before he could think further, the gas station’s intercom crackled to life, reminding patrons that table seating was limited to thirty minutes during peak hours. The moment passed, slipping away like sand through his fingers.
"Time to go." Nova thought to himself. He made his way to the Comet Registry, a sleek glass counter where travelers acquired the comet cards—data chips that synced with a ship’s navigation system.
The attendant handed him a card, etched with faint blue lines that glowed in his hand. Nova pocketed it and turned back toward his ship.
“Nova!” a familiar voice called.
He turned to see Ook, one of Nova's close friends, striding towards him. Ook is an Eloi, strange beings—tall, muscular, with skin the color of freshly spilled blood and hollow black eyes that seemed to drink in the light around them. Despite their unsettling appearance, Eloi have long been revered for their unshakable loyalty, a trait etched into their very essence since time immemorial. Nova had always had deep respect for this unyielding principal of the Eloi. In Ook & all Eloi, it was not just a trait but a way of being --an unwavering devotion to the truth of their words that Nova both admired and trusted implicitly.
“How many particles?” Ook asked, the corners of his mouth curling upward in the Eloi version of a smile.
“4 currently,” Nova replied, pulling a small pouch from his belt. Inside were four shimmering particles—photographic captures of distant worlds and celestial phenomena. Ook pulled out his own collection of two, and they swapped one each, a gesture of friendship and mutual respect. Nova tucked the new particle away, bid Ook farewell, and returned to The Lynx.
He slid the new comet card into the console. “Navigation locked at Wten wormhole,” the system confirmed. Engines flared, and the ship rose, its sleek hull slicing through the nebula’s golden haze as it aligned with the coordinates to cross through 210 solar systems in 21 seconds via Wten.
Nova checked the controls as the wormhole’s swirling vortex came into view. It loomed like a breeze of blue and silver energy, both beautiful and menacing.
Soon after, the countdown began.
“Ten… nine… eight…”
He started preparing for the exit. The swirling vortex filled the view port as the ship moved closer.
“Five… four…”
Suddenly, the ship shuddered violently. Alarms blared as the wormhole on the viewing panel began to ripple unnaturally, its smooth energy flow breaking into chaotic tendrils.
“Oh Hart! What is this?!” Nova muttered, gripping the controls.
A branching pathway split off the wormhole, its jagged energy pulling at The Lynx. Nova fought to stabilize the ship, his pupils dilated with full focus. But it was useless. The ship was yanked sideways into the rogue branch.
Blackness consumed him. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Nova's mind went blank. All he could hear was his beating heart and flowing blood.
Then, light began to seep into the cockpit. Nova’s vision blurred as the ship was spat out of the wormhole into open void space. He barely had time to register his surroundings before the ship’s alarm blared again.
“WARNING: Rapid descent detected. Trajectory unstable--collision imminent!”
Nova’s stomach dropped as he saw the planet below—a brilliant blue and white sphere. The Lynx hurtled towards it, flames licking the edges of its hull as it tore through the atmosphere. "Can't catch a break, oh Hart!" screamed Nova.
He slammed at the controls, but they were dead. The ship trembled, shaking him in his seat as the surface rushed closer. Then, just as he braced for impact, the descent slowed and a glowing white spot on the surface began to materialize.
The strange light engulfed the ship, its glow soft and ethereal. It wasn’t the ship’s thrusters—it was something external, something deliberate. The Lynx floated gently downward, like a leaf caught in an invisible breeze, before settling softly on the planet’s surface.
He exhaled, his chest heaving as the alarms silenced. For a moment, all was still. "I need a chocolate now, phew." Just as Nova grabbed his favorite snack, a voice boomed from outside: “Come out unarmed at once.”
His pulse quickened as he steeled himself to face the unknown danger. "Lynx! Hide the navigations and tell mum I love her."
Whoever—or whatever—had saved him was already waiting. With a deep breath, Nova reached for the blaster at his side. With cautious steps, he raised his hands and approached the hatch.
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