Planatae

Proposal

Jasper leaned back against the boat, basking in the sun. Aside from the buzz of the dinghy, there was nothing but blissful quiet. That would change as they approached the resort, so he enjoyed the moment while it lasted.

Jasper, something is wrong.

He grunted aloud, unconvinced. But then there was a reverberating whoomp that left the boat shivering in the water, and now he was suddenly up, head on a swivel.

Look up, the Old One instructed, and Jasper craned his neck. Far above him hung a hulking monster of a craft, its edges indistinct. A pleasure cruise, he guessed - one that had just entered the atmosphere. But it was too far away, its engines too quiet to explain the source of the noise. But as Jasper watched, he began to pick out little specks that circled the craft, like moths around a flame. There was a flash of light, sharp and fleeting. A few seconds later, another whoomp hit him, stirring the surface of the water.

Jasper grew cold at the sight, the sound. This scene was all too familiar, and old memories began to surface against his will.

Relax, the Old One said. I can feel you panicking.

Really? Jasper scowled, but there was no one to aim the expression at. That's a battle raging up there! Here! On Alto -

I know, she responded, and for once there was no animosity conveyed in the thought. You should get back to the resort. You need to gather information.

Whoomp. The noise blasted them again, but Jasper ignored the battle. He stared ahead, coaxing as much speed as he could from the boat. There would be no 'long-way' around this time - he needed to get back and figure out who had decided to attack this little, backwater planet.

...

Ricardia came to a jerking stop, panting. Before her stood a building that was both unsettling and familiar. It was a low, squat structure wedged between two of Onyx's typical establishments. Instead of dark concrete, however, she faced a wall of cream-colored stone.

She felt a sharp pang upon seeing it, couldn't help herself from reaching out to place her hand on the wall. But it wasn't the rough sandstone she'd expected. It was concrete, but had been cleverly painted to resemble the other material. The whole thing was a sham, she realized - a full-blown mockery of a Caedish temple. Proportions were off, designs she'd never seen at home were etched into the facade. Still, she couldn't shake the sense of familiarity that had come over her.

The music was loud now, drowning out the ambient street noise. It came from within the false-temple, and so Ricardia followed a group of tourists into the dim interior.

Back on Caedum, there would have been a communal pool in the temple chamber, a raised dais at the center for performance or prayer. But this space was cramped when it should have been airy, dark walls replacing the windows she was expecting. There was no pool; tables crammed with people filled the space. In the center, there was just enough open room for revelers to writhe, pressed together as they danced to the music.

The group ahead of her came to a stop as a woman approached. She wore a garish tunic, its blues and greens almost neon-bright. She smiled at the group, and gestured to them to follow her. Ricardia watched as she settled them at an open table, snapped at a passing server who then loaded the table with drinks. Then she turned her attention to the entrance again, and locked eyes with Ricardia. There was a fleeting moment of furrowed brows before the smile returned.