"Again", Hugh said, Steven's face greeting the ground with a thud.

  Steven grabbed his sword and rose from the padded floor of the palace training room, which was located on the second floor of the structure. The room was surrounded by fortified glass windows, the ocean waves visible just outside the cliff end tower.

  He raised his white long sleeve tee, wiping his mouth, blood staining the cuff.

  "You're being too rough", Steven said, rotating his shoulder.

  Hugh grinned, readying his sword.

  "You sound like my son. I'll tell you what I told him. Fight back, and take your vengeance."

  Steven smirked, readying his blade.

  "When you're ready, old man."

  Hugh grinned, quickly stepping forward and thrusting his blade at Steven, who parried it.

  "Good, very good", Hugh said, stepping back and circling Steven.

  Steven eyed Hugh like a hawk, after a moment Hugh coming forward with another attack, Steven successfully blocking it. They continued to circle each other.

  "You've been doing well in your trainings. You must be practicing even when I'm not here, I can tell."

  "Yeah, well, not much else to do", Steven replied, his eyes still set on Hugh, who moved like a predator.

  "Well, whatever you're doing, keep at it. At your current pace, within another month or two, you won't be a complete novice."

  Steven smirked, a small chuckle sneaking through his lips. As he did, Hugh stepped forward again, striking at Steven twice. Steven barely blocked the first thrust, and on the second fell to his backside. Hugh stepped forward, reaching down his hand.

  "Up and at 'em, kid, still got a lot more to do, and the suns have only begun to rise."

  Steven sighed, taking Hugh's hand and standing up.

  "Another two months", Steven said, setting down his sword. "Funny."

  "Alas, I wasn't trying to be. Don't take it too hard though, for someone who's wet behind the ears, you're learning incredibly fast. Have I seen students learn faster? Yes. But we must take all our accomplishments as what they are: our own, and take pride in them."

  Hugh gave a slap to Steven's back and they walked out the room, into the towering halls of the castle.

  "...the sages, the high alchemist...well, it's just when they talk about a hero called, it's implied there's something special about them. Some great ability. But it seems as if I'm lacking that. Forget average, I seem subpar."

  Hugh chuckled, his gaze lowered to the grey stone floors.

  "...it is true, that the called hero's of old were said to be warriors of renown. Mighty men, whose deeds were comparable to that of the gods."

  Hugh's eyes observed a painting which hung on the wall, coming to a stop. In the painting an older man with long, fine, white hair, a crown atop it. His hazel eyes sat sunken in.

  "This is King Lenor, her lady's great, great grandfather. Perhaps one the most skilled fighters and tacticians the Anaxian Empire will ever know. He didn't lead a successful military campaign until he was twenty-nine, after the Second Great Galactic War broke out. His older brother, King Fwenar, died soon after the war started, and everything fell to Lenor. All the pressure. It revealed diamond underneath."

  Hugh observed the painting a moment more before returning to his stroll.

  "So basically what you're saying is that I had better hope for a third galactic war to break out?"

  Hugh laughed.

  "That's one way to look at it I suppose."

  They continued down the halls, a variety of people coming and going. Healers, maids, guards and knights. They turned down another hall towards the left, at the end an open door that led to a large balcony era outside.

  "Come", Hugh said, proceeding down the hall. "Space force crafts should be taking off right now."

  They walked down the hall, a gentle breeze permeated with the smell of salt and sea greeting them. The ocean stretched on, seemingly unending. Above it, a few scattered, levitating islands like clouds.

  "The islands", Steven said, looking at one which was shaped like a dagger. "How do they do that? Float, I mean. Is it a natural phenomena? Or artificial?"

  "Both", Hugh replied. "Those islands are about as old as the planet itself. The mineral and rock in it, its composed heavily of a magnetic substance. Causes it to do what you see now. They used to float higher, much higher. Overtime, the field has weekend, both in part due to entropy, and the pollution that often ills progress. We've made artificial material that's simialr to its natrual makeup which has slowed their fall."

  Hugh gazed out at the sky, a certain melancholy beneath his eyes, almost imperceptible.

  "One day though, they will fall."

  Steven began to open his mouth, but was cut off by a loud mechanical sound. The hanger doors which sat a little away on the seaside cliff opened, their size enormous. A craft emerged, proceeding down the runway. It reminded Steven of a plane, except slightly larger, onyx black and four wings instead of two. A hum emitted, which grew in ferocity and vibration, until blue streams of fire shot out of the four wings, the ship speeding down the runway before diving off the precipice, a crack like lighting, expect louder, thundered when it shot past the clouds and into the great blue. Another soon emerged, following in the other's path.

  "Where are they going?", asked Steven, holding one finger slightly to his left ear, the boom deafening even from here.

  "Na-Hatian moons. Really just an asteroid belt, most of the asteroids and small planets there are majorly composed of water, much like Anaxian. Only difference is, there's an abundance of Ordaxian stone there."

  "...Ordaxian stone?", Steven repeated.

  "A mineral blessed by the gods, if there even is such a thing. Its properties allow for increased healing, increased stamina, incrased strength, increased agility, increased speed, and most importantly, it's one of the best fuels in the galaxy. Those crafts shooting for the stars, guess what's powering them?"

  Steven wasen't sure rather or not he was supposed to reply, but took the safe bet.

  "...ordaxian stone?"

  Hugh nodded his head.

  "We went to war with the Na-Hatian moons, as is the path for empires, and won. They've been our colony for a little under two centuries now. The last seventy years though, they've begun rebelling, as is also the path for colonies. Acts of terrorism, guerrilla warfare, assassinations. It's quite the debcal as is, but what makes it worse is the strength of the fighters thanks to the ordaxian stone. The Na-Hatinan fisherman spend most of their life on the ocean, in constant contact with the water whose oceanfloor is covered by the stone. Demons. That's the only way I can describe them."

  Steven observed Hugh a moment before turning his sight back to the ocean, and the sky, and the crafts which took off like lighting.

  Hugh looked at Steven, who don't notice, his gaze so immersed by the ships.

  "The ships", Hugh said. "You like them."

  Steven looked at Hugh, then back to the ships.

  "Yeah, um, my dad used to make and collect model planes, made it a hobby for me as well growing up. He always wanted to be a pilot, but you know, as things often go, it just never happend. I think model airplanes were kind of an outlet for living out that dream."

  Hugh considered Steven a moment, nodding his head as he turned his gaze back for the sea.

  "It's good", Hugh said. "To share a passion with your father."

  Steven nodded, his gaze unmoved from the runway and enldes ocean, which threatened to pull him in.

  "Yeah...I guess it is."

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Hugh's lips cracked into a grin, and he slightly chuckled to himself, Steven notcing and looking over.

  Hugh stared at the ocean, a smile plastred on his face.

  "Want to learn to fly a ship?"

  Like a child on Christmas, Steven's eyes lit up.

  "Hell yes."

  ***

  The ship hangar was Herculean in scope, the ceiling almost as high as the clouds are from the ground, and the room stretching for what seemed like miles. The atmosphere was electric, soilders and crewmen going to and fro, an omnipresent chatter in the air.

  "Look", Hugh said. "Over to your left."

  A row of twelve men donned in what seemed like early nineteen hundreds scuba diving outfits, with strange rifles holstered on their back stood at attention. A tall and hefty man that seemed to be a general of some kind, his hair ruddy and face pale and flushed, paced in front of the men, talking loudly.

  "That's General Abby, leader of the Kinfar unit. A specialized unit bred for fighting the Na-Hatian fisherman."

  "Bred for?", Steven repeated.

  Hugh nodded his head.

  "Four decades ago, the king saw fit to pass a bill that would allow for the creation of a specialized embryo program that would make for enchaned specimans, specially for moving and figting underwater. You'd be hard pressed to come across meaner group of bastards."

  Just as Hugh utterd that, one of the soldiers turned his head towards Steven. A moment later, General Abby followed suit. A smile broke out on his face as he walked towards them, bellowing.

  "Well I'll be damned, if it isn't the great bastard Sir Hugh."

  Hugh chuckled as Abby came forward, Abby throwing his arms around Hugh, Hugh doing the same.

  "How have you been, old friend?", Abby inquired, pulling back.

  "Bitter...tired...unable to find sleep which continuously eldues me. Blessed though to have cycled the great suns once more."

  "Aye, I feel that", Abby replied.

  Abby tunred to look at Steven.

  "Well I'll be, is this the great called hero?"

  Steven tentatively outstretched his hand.

  "S-steven."

  "Ah", Abby said, yanking Steven's hand so hard his arm almost dislocated. "The stammer of a hero."

  Hugh chuckled, and so did Steven after a moment.

  "So", Abby began. "What brings fine lads such as yourselves down here? I hope it isn't due to longing for conversation, this whole hangars gonna be empty within the next thirty minutes."

  "Actually", Hugh said. "I was wondering if young Steven here would be able to borrow one of your training ships, with me spearheading of course. Or at the least tag along in a training course with some green behind the ear recruits."

  Abyy ran his meaty palm over his mouth, his eyes in thought.

  "Mm...I do have a fighter jet that isn't currently in use. A solar ten model. Older, but a classic. They don't make 'em like that anymore."

  Abyy lips cracked into a grin, and he turned around for the Kinfar unit.

  "Of course, you could always tag along with the Kinfar. If you don't mind a little underwater warfare."

  A rock found itself lodged in Steven's throat, but Hugh laughed.

  "Maybe next time. Steven here is still finding his way around with a blade on land, water may be a bit too much."

  "Ah", Abby said with a hearty belly laugh. "A real rookie eh? Seems you got your work cut out for you, Sir Hugh."

  Abby turned, poniting down the hangar.

  "Should be door twenty-eight. Code is Etar fifty-five. Keys should be on the jet dashboard, if not, ask around for Lieutenant Anderson, he'll show you to them."

  Hugh placed his hand on Abby's shoulder.

  "Always a pleasure, Abby. I want to catch up more, if we ever find the time."

  Abby placed his hand atop of Hugh's, nodding, a grin plastered on his face.

  "That's the thing Hugh. We never will. That's why moments like these are such a treasure."

  Hugh nodded, Abby removing his hand. Abyy looked at Steven, reaching out his hand.

  "Feel the wind beneath your wings kid, only tip I can give you. You're either cut out for this, or you aren't. Until we meet again."

  Steven took Abby's hand, shaking it.

  "Thanks...until we meet again."

  Abby grinned, nodding his head and releasing his hand, departing back for the Kinfar, and the war that awaited them on the Na-Hatian moons.

  Hugh and Steven made thier way across the hanger, passing the numerous rushing soldiers, pilots, technicians, generals and crewmen that ran to and fro. They arrived at gate twenty-eight, and after Hugh had entered the code on the small computer that sat to the side of the hangar door, the metal wall lifted up, revelaing a jet inside. It was admiral blue, scratches and dents decorating the exterior like battle scars do a soldier. It had four wings like the craft Steven had seen launch earlier.

  "A little dinged up, but still a beauty", Hugh said, him and Steven walking in.

  "...little dinged up", Steven repeated, his gaze focused on the enormous craft.

  Hugh walked to the front left side, a small window like square opening and a blue ray quickly washing over Hugh.

  "Welcome, General Hugh", a woman's voice said.

  "Requesting scan and logging of pilot Steven Grayson as well."

  The blue ray shot back out, running down Steve's body.

  "Welcome, pilot Steven Grayson."

  The door opened horizontally, a sizable cockpit inside.

  "C'mon", Hugh said, stepping inside the craft.

  Steven followed Hugh inside, the stairs wide but Steven's lanky legs making for easy ascension. The cockpit had a long control panel, a large monitor stretching acorss the front, underneath it buttons and panels. Two chairs sat at the front, two more at the back. Above the monitor and panels was a large, glass window.

  "Whoa", Steven said.

  "She's a beaut all right", Hugh said, pushing buttons. He pushed a small, green button, a closet door opening acorss the room. Inside, four flight suits that resembled black haptic suits. "Grab a flight suit", Hugh said, walking away from the control panel and towards the closet. "May be a wee uncomfortable at first, but you'll be thanking the gods in the event a breach happens."

  Steven walked towards th closet, oberving the flight suits. Two were space black, one dark, ashen grey, and the other dark blue, much like the ship itself. The suits all had name tags beneath their left breast.

  Sesbasian, Akian, Aleena and Etar. Sebastian's was the one that was dark blue, and the one that caught Steven's eye.

  "Can I use the blue one? Sebastian's?"

  Hugh nodded.

  "Sure, makes no difference. I'll nab Etar's", Hugh said, grabbing the ashen grey suit which hung from a hanger. "Name remnids me of one of my buds from academy."

  "Mm", Steven replied, holding his suit up and studying it. "...how eaxtacly do I put this on?"

  "Look", Hugh said, turning around his suit. At the back was zipper that stretched from the neck to the buttocks. He unzipped it. "Unzip it, then put your arms and legs into the suit as best you can. Afterwards", Hugh pointed to small, white button on the cuff. "Push this and it'll seal itself around your entire body automacitly."

  "Thanks", Steven said, still somewhat confused.

  "You'll have to be naked first, though", Hugh added.

  Steven frowned.

  "Oh."

  "Relax", Hugh said, slapping Steven on the back. "You have nothing to be ahamed of, I'm sure men from your planet are just like us. Two pensis right? One at the front, and one at the back?"

  Steven's mouth went agape as he looked at Hugh, who stared at him with a brick face. After moment. he burst out into laughter.

  "I'm fucking with you", Hugh said, walking away.

  "Oh", Steven said, chuckling.

  "Don't be ridiculous", Hugh said, heading for the restroom. "Everyone knows it's two in the front."

  Hugh pushed a button, the restroom door opening, Hugh waking into it and the door proceeding to shut. Steven was left to ponder if this was a joke or not.

  After Hugh had returned, his ashen flight suit glued to his body, and Steven went in and in turn put his on (after stuggling briefly to get his arms into the sleeves) they donned black helmets with glass fronts and positioned themselves in the two front seats. Hugh sat to the left, and Steven to the right. Hugh backed out of the storage room and into the main hangar.

  "You ready to see the stars, kid?"

  Excitement bubbled deep in Steven's stomach, and he felt almost giddy. He was almost in unbelief, not because of the absurd situation he now found himself in, but at the sheer joy he was now experiencing.

  ***

  "Look at this", John, aged forty-nine, said to Steven in his study, quite soul music playing from his record player that sat on the oak table. He walked with Steven, then aged eleven, alongside his many shelves, some filled with books, but mostly model planes. He led him to a dark blue one which sat alone.

  "Vought F4U Corsair. Fighter aircraft from the Second World War. One of the best fighter-bombers that ever was, or ever will be."

  John looked down at Steven with almost childlike awe in his eyes, and it was contagious, Steven's eyes lighting up as well.

  ***

  "I'm ready", Steven said.

  Hugh proceeded down the hangar. The comms beeped, after brief static a man's voice speaking.

  "Blue whale, you are go for takeoff."

  "Roger that", Hugh replied, pushing a series of buttons so fast Steven couldn't keep track. He pulled a lever and the jet began to move. Fast.

  "Whoa", Steven said, being pushed back against his chair.

  "Powerful, isn't it?", Hugh said, turning to Steven with a grin.

  "Yeah."

  They gained speed as they neared the opening, briefly passing Abby who waved. They emerged outside.

  "Hold on to something", Hugh said, pulling back the lever.

  Like lightning. Or the blink of an eye. That's the only way Steven could describe it. One moment, they were on the cliff edge, the other ascending through the bright blue.

  "Oh shit!", Steven exclaimed, getting a laugh out of Hugh. Steven looked out the front, and could see clouds which were only feet in front of him, birds and strange creatures which flew by, unbothered and unimpressed. Above him, space.

  "C'mon", Hugh said. "I have an idea."

  Hugh turned the levers, and the ship bolted upwards. After a second, they were no longer in the atmosphere, or on Annaxian. A gigantic ring was ahead of them, rows of spacecrafts in front of them.

  "I'm going to boom us to the Esse sector, it's near Nodeann. A smaller nation. Beautiful views for flying, though."

  "A-are you sure?", Steven asked. "I'm honestly fine with flying here-"

  "My son loved flying in Esse, you will too. I guarantee you."

  Steven studied Hugh's face a moment, catching a brief sadness that crossed his eyes. So fast it was almost imperceptible. Almost.

  Steven nodded.

  "Yeah, okay."

  They inched closer to the ring, crafts there one second, the after a blinding white light, gone. A group of jets suddenly appeared, booming by in front of them. Hugh pulled back the lever, slightly slowing down the craft.

  "What was that?", Steven asked, leaning forward.

  "Mm...not sure. Antsy cadets possibly. Still, they should know the importance of adhering to safe traveling guidelines."

  They continued to draw forward, a large craft that seemed to be carrying cargo of some sort booming through in front of them. Before Steven knew it, they were next in line. A man's voice spoke through the comms.

  "Destination code."

  "Esse, sector 1-5", Hugh responded.

  The transparent black began to glow white, Hugh no longer inching the ship forward as the ring itself began to pull them in like gravity. Steven squinted as the light reached a fever pitch of brightness."

  "You should close your eyes for a sec", Hugh said, squinting. "Ideally, you should have warp goggles, but closed eyes do the job just fine."

  A booming, bellowing screech rang out. Like a cry, but mechanical. Five, spider-like brown crafts appeared, flying by over the ring.

  "Shit", Hugh yelled, eyes wide as his face was washed in the white of the ring. "Fen-Har!"

  They rained down strange, blue fire upon the ring, the structure exploding. One of the blasts hit the blue whale, alarms blaring as Steven's side of the ship was almost torn open.

  "No", Hugh yelled, pulling back the lever to no avail as they were pulled into the white. Hugh turned to Steven, real and true panic in his eyes. "Hold on to my arm." And Steven did.

  The craft was pulled into the white, which began to shift into a spinning, swirling grey. Then obsidian black. Steven felt as if a hand had taken ahold of his soul, and was attempting to pry it out of his body. The black shifted to dark maroon mixed with colors so strange Steven didn't think there were words for them. Steven's brows furrowed as he looked at his hands, which seems to swirl as well, almost like liquid though solid. Steven looked at Hugh, eyes wide with fear.

  "Hugh."

  Steven was sucked out the ship and pulled into the swirling and raging cosmic tempest.