Homestar Saga

Chapter 46: Public Transport

The shuttle was loud, and shook constantly. Surface shuttles were built differently than most spacefaring vessels, with severe limits placed on their speed and engine power. A ship like the Random Encounter could kill hundreds or thousands of people if it crashed due to its rapid acceleration. Surface shuttles were much slower, and built with extra redundancies to prevent accidents. They were the only craft allowed to descend to the surface. Any other ship that tried would be blasted out of the sky.

Yvian understood the necessity, but she still wished they could have taken their own ship. Redundancies or not, there was something very alarming about a ship shaking this much. She felt like it could break apart at any moment. The roar of the engines failed to hide the creaks and groans of the ship as it entered the atmosphere. Her helmet muffled the sounds, but she'd decided against activating the noise cancellation functions. It was bad enough there were no windows to see out of. She wasn't giving up her ability to hear if something went wrong.

"So..." Lissa drawled over the comms. "Chronicler of Lives. What's that about?"

"It's an ancient brilend tradition." Mims replied. "The keepers of the true history. The brilend believe history is best preserved through understanding the people involved. Important figures, people in power, and at least a few of the common masses. The Chroniclers investigate these people, learn all they can, and tell their stories. Not just what they did, but why. Who they were. Their essence."

"That sounds..." A particularly violent shake caused her to clutch at her restraining belts before she continued. "...Dangerous."

"Yeah." Mims agreed. "People in power don't like having their secrets dug into. Chroniclers tend to get murdered a lot."

Yvian was only half paying attention. If not for fear their shuttle would explode, she wouldn't have listened to anything at all. Motherless. She'd known what it meant. All pixens did. But knowing had not prepared her for experiencing it. All those people. All that hate. The snarling faces of her people rose up behind her eyelids, an endless loop of rejection. Curses and hisses and the muttering anger of the crowd echoed through her mind.

She could never again be among her own kind. Never eat a pixen meal. Never have a simple conversation with a stranger. She would never again know the touch of a pixen woman.

Because of Yasme.

Yvian had always loved her mother. All daughters do. No matter how angry, or disgusted, or afraid she'd been, she'd always told herself Yasme loved her. Maybe. Deep down. Now she knew better. Yasme Kiver loved no one. Not even Lissa. She'd probably spent hours stirring up that mob. Playing the victim, riling up their emotions, pointing them at Yvian like a gun. She'd sent a crowd of strangers to kill her children, and she'd smiled while she watched.

"But they're some of the best investigators in the verse," the Captain continued. "Chroniclers are highly trained observers, experts at reading body language, and masters of sniffing out secrets. When a brilend does something stupid and futile, they call it "shitting the chronicler." They're dedicated, lethally clever, and absolutely fucking relentless in their search for the truth."

Yasme. Cold anger burned through her. Hatred. Revulsion. She might have hoped they would chase away the sadness. Instead they settled in with it, huddling together like friends sharing a blanket. A tightness in her chest. A moistness in her eyes. A slump in the shoulders she could barely prevent. She still had her sister and the Captain. Why did she feel so alone? So cold? So very, very tired?

"They're a god-damned nightmare to anyone with secrets to keep."

Yvian snapped herself to attention at the mention of secrets. Oh, Crunch. Mims wasn't just giving a history lesson. He was giving a warning. Danil Starlancer was a professional discoverer of secrets. They'd betrayed the Confed to the Xill. Mims was a Terran spy. Even Yvian's plan to rebuild Pixa would get them all killed if anyone found out. If the reporter found the slightest suspicion...