Goldengate Correctional Facility, affectionately called ‘Shark’s Bay’ by everyone else in the galaxy, sat on a tiny planet in one of the darkest parts of space. White flares lit the area as ships came and went, navigating a treacherous ring of floating debris to relieve themselves of their new prisoners. The concrete building, visible even at such a distance, stood like a monument of pure misery. Rowan stared at the smudges of white uniforms, their faces blurred beyond recognition, not that he’d even remembered what the ones from his house had looked like.
The Chimera sat as cold and dark as the prison, idling as close as it dared while the crew waited for the activity to die down. Rowan fought the urge to begin pacing as he stood on the bridge, one hand to the cold glass of the window. A hand clapped him on the shoulder, making him jump violently. He turned in time to see a sheepish Sebastian flinch back with his hands raised.
“Sorry.” He gave a weak grin. “Nervous this morning?”
Rowan shook his head. “Didn’t sleep well.”
“Was...that my fault?”
“The entirety of the universe does not revolve around you.” Rowan looked stubbornly back out at the prison, trying to think of what he’d be saying to get his father out rather than of the dejected captain beside him.
“Rowan--”
“Alright!” Kenan pressed himself between the two and slung an arm around Rowan’s shoulders. “Let me show you what we’ll be riding in.” He tugged Rowan away, not even sparing a glance back at his captain.
He led the way to a room off the side of the bridge where three small ships sat, sleek black like polished obsidian. Their sharp angles gave them a deadly glint. Rowan touched a hand to one in awe. “They’re beautiful.” He breathed.
“They’re our beta ships.” Sebastian said from behind them. “They were taken from IPC carriers and repurposed. Repainted, as well.”
The top of the ship slid open as Kenan wriggled into a flight suit that’d been hanging up nearby. “You’re wearing that?” Sebastian raised a brow at him.
“Of course.” Kenan gave him a fond smile. “Too nostalgic? Or not nostalgic enough? I have the goggles too.” He held up a pair of goggles, a scratch down one lens. “The first outfit I ever wore in space.”
Sebastian shook his head and clapped a hand to Kenan’s shoulder. “Just be careful.”
“Aye, aye, Captain. And don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to your boyfriend there.”
Rowan stared at the ship uneasily. “Hey,” Sebastian reached out for him, “I’m sorry. About last night, and not...just, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, just…” Rowan heaved a heavy breath. “Are you sure you can’t go instead?”
“They know me too well; I can’t, but not to worry, Kenan is very capable.”
“Yes, but can he fly one of these?”
“A child could fly one of these.” He assured. “I’ve trusted him with my life on more than one occasion. I can trust him with yours this once.”
The seats were made of a rich leather, still wearing their new scent like fine perfume. Kenan sat in the front, tightening a pink bandana around his wrist with his teeth. Rowan squeezed into the second seat, feeling claustrophobic as the hatch closed. Kenan gave a two-fingered salute to Sebastian as he tugged the goggles over his eyes. The engine ran smooth and quiet, so different from the Chimera’s clanky one. The lights inside shone brighter as they shot out into open space. Rowan glanced back but the larger ship had faded into the darkness. He leaned back into his chair and tried not to fidget.
“I’m not going to lie,” Kenan’s voice startled him, “I have night blindness pretty bad, so let me know if you think we’re going to crash.”
“That isn’t funny.” Rowan hissed.
“I wasn’t joking. My folks kept making me wear these glasses as a kid, really thick ones, but I left them behind when I ran away.”
“But you live in space.”
“Yeah, trust me, the irony does not escape me. It’s why I have the goggles.”
“You and Sebastian are from the same planet, aren’t you?”
“Same neighborhood. We grew up together.”
“Really?”
“Oh, the things you don’t know about your own boyfriend. A shame.” Kenan joked.
“It’s not like I haven’t tried! He doesn’t talk about his past or his family.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Kenan leaned back, keeping one hand hovering above the brightly lit controls. “One thing you should know about anyone who calls themself a space pirate; we’re all running from something. Or someone.”
“What are you running from? Did you murder someone on your home planet too?”
“No,” he laughed, “though I was tempted. Eh, didn’t want to grow up to work in an office like my dad. ‘Let’s steal my aunt’s spaceship.’ I told Sebastian one night. I was kidding, but one night, we actually did it. He wanted off that planet so badly.”
“That’s how you became a pirate?”
“No, that’s how Sebastian became a pirate. Mom got sick so I stayed behind. A month later, she was better, so I left too. Different crew than this one. They left me on a deserted planet after I helped Seb escape their hold. He gets captured quite a lot.”
“He came back for you.”
“Yeah. He doesn’t abandon people. He’s never been the sort.” Kenan looked back at Rowan. “He may leave, but he always comes back. Oh, here comes the fun part.”
Kenan dodged the bits of trash, most rusted hunks of metal, as they entered the planet’s atmosphere. The ship spun dizzyingly, and Rowan clutched the arm rests so tightly he swore he could hear the bones in his fingers creak. When they righted themselves, he saw Kenan with a wild smile upon his face, but he could say nothing as they approached the prison. The docks seemed abandoned now, flecks of rust flaking off as they stepped out. Their ship’s headlights blinked as Kenan locked the doors, leaving it floating in the air.
At Rowan’s look, he shrugged. “What? It’s a prison; you never know.”
The front of the prison was pockmarked with small holes, the glint of gun barrels eyeing them like tiny predators. Rowan swallowed nervously as he kept close to Kenan who strode confidently to the doors. “Never thought I’d be here again.”
“You’ve been here before?”
Kenan pulled a plate of metal back from the side of the door to reveal a glowing keypad, some numbers missing. “Yeah. A couple of years ago. For aiding and abetting a known murderer. Funny considering everything else I’ve done.”Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“Lyra.”
Kenan’s eyes flicked to him. “Yeah. Interestingly enough, they never bother to change the codes.”
The front door slammed open to reveal a sparkling white lobby lined with closed doors to unknown officers. Off to the side spiraled a staircase leading to the upper levels. A handful of chairs had been perfectly lined up on the opposite wall, but nothing had been done to make the room feel welcoming. No paintings hung on the bare walls. No carpets adorned the floor. It was eerily devoid of the things most places made an effort to include. Behind the single desk at the end of the room sat a heavyset woman, her long nails clacking away at the old computer, so old it could have been picked up from the trash ring outside.
Kenan hung back, fiddling with the bandana around his wrist, while Rowan stepped up to the desk. He waited for the woman to glance up at him over the rim of her thick glasses. “Hi. Um, I’m here about my father. He’s been arrested.”
“Name?” She barked.
“Patrick Graham.”
She slammed her fingers against the keys, loud enough for Rowan to wince. “Arrested for breaking Frankenstein’s Law. Suspicious material found in the home, but no “Frankensteins” to speak of. The case will most likely be thrown out, and he’ll be sent home after a week or two. I’m just going to need you to tell me your name so I can verify you as next of kin and get your signature.”
“But he can’t come home today?” Rowan asked, his heart sinking.
“Afraid not. This is a very serious law he’s being scrutinized over. Worse than murder, even.”
“Alright.” He glanced back at Kenan who shrugged. “I’m his youngest son, Rowan Graham.”
The woman froze, her fingers stilling over the keys, and her glance at him now was more serious. Her eyes bore into him as if she was trying to see into his soul. “You’re Rowan Graham? Are you sure?”
“Y-yes?”
“Do you have the proper identification?”
Rowan reached into his pocket and pulled out his photo ID. It was a bit dated but still usable. The woman took it and stood from her chair, her shoulders straightening as if preparing for war. “If you’ll excuse me, I just need to step into one of these offices and print off a few copies of the paperwork you’ll need to sign. Please, have a seat. It’ll just be a moment.”
Kenan let out a low whistle, the sound bouncing off the walls. “This place sure is creepy. They make the cells feel homier.”
A low whir made them both jump, and Rowan stepped around the desk curiously. “It was only the printer.” He said, relieved.
Kenan met his eyes. “The printer?” He eased a knife from his belt. “We need to go, Rowan. Now.”
But Rowan had stopped, his eyes latched on to the sheet of paper lying innocuously in the printer, still warm. His name was printed at the top in thick black letters. “This can’t be right.” He said, half to himself, as he picked up the paper. It shook in his hands. Somewhere behind him, a door opened with a soft creak.
“Rowan!” A flash of silver flicked through the air and hit something just over Rowan’s shoulder with a heavy thwap. Rowan turned just in time to see an officer in a white IPC uniform fall to the ground, a small knife sticking out of his forehead. His eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling. “We need to go!” Kenan shouted.
Rowan shoved the paper into his pocket and forced his stunned feet to run back around the desk. He followed Kenan through the lobby as more officers streamed from the offices. The secretary followed, shouting something he couldn’t quite make out. Something with a blue light sputtered in her hand.
Kenan was already out the door when Rowan felt a sharp pain as something lodged into his back, just below his shoulder. He yelped and stumbled outside when the bolt of electricity surged through him. He couldn’t hear himself scream as his knees hit the ground but he knew he must have. The world around him dimmed, the sounds of gunfire a dull hum in his ears as Kenan ran back to him, moving as if in slow motion.
The world flared back to life as Kenan dragged him to his feet. He flung another knife, this one from his boot, as they hurried back to their ship and dove inside. Bullets rained down upon them, bouncing off their ship’s hull as Kenan fought to catch his breath. He turned to face Rowan, his lips moving, but nothing coming out. Rowan shook his head.
“Are you okay?” Kenan asked again.
It took a couple of tries to get the word to come out, but finally, Rowan nodded. “Y-yeah. I’m okay.”
“Welcome to the world of being tased.” Kenan said as they shot off into space. “It is not a fun experience, and I truly, truly feel sorry for you right now.”
They cut off their lights and floated hidden amongst the trash ring while the IPC’s ships swarmed around them, always getting close but never close enough to spot their ship. Rowan leaned his head against the glass. The lights from the enemy ships flickered through the darkness like the streetlights on his home planet. In the flashes of light, he saw Kenan hold his wrist up to his mouth and press his lips against the bandana.
“You and Lyra make a good couple.” Rowan said, slurring the words a bit. He felt so tired, but a voice inside, sounding too much like his mother’s, told him not to fall asleep.
Kenan gave a breathy laugh as he leaned back into his seat. “Me and Lyra? We’re nothing like that.” He paused and looked out, possibly searching for the Chimera in the darkness. “She doesn’t see the point of relationships. She doesn’t get lonely, at least not the kind of lonely that can be solved by other people. So she’d rather be alone. And I get it. It’s scary putting your heart on the line even if it’s a sure thing. It’s scary looking out across a room and knowing someone cares about you like that but unable to know for sure if you feel the same. If you’re even capable of feeling the same. And if you even want to.” He stared at the bandana hastily tied around his wrist. “But, you know, I’d give anything just to look across that room and see her looking back...and just, knowing.”
“I think she does. She was scared when you almost died.”
“Yeah, well, anyone would have been. But thank you.” Kenan slid a hand over the console, lighting it up. “And for the record, I may want more, but I don’t want her to feel like she has to do anything she’s not 100% about. What we have is enough. She’s my best friend.”
Rowan lost track of how long it took them to find the Chimera again, seeing as how it had moved the second the IPC had sent out ships. By the time they docked, Rowan had nearly fallen asleep, the pain in his back coming and going in waves of agony he couldn’t voice. He was jarred awake by someone roughly dragging him out of the ship. He heard his name on repeat, but it took considerable effort to drag his eyelids open and see a worried Sebastian hovering over him.
Kenan stood off to the side, wrapped in a relieved hug by Lyra, his left pants leg dripping blood onto the docking bay. A bright light blinded him as Brie shined a tiny flashlight in his eyes. “No sign of concussion.” She said. “What happened out there?”
“Wasn’t my fault.” Kenan held up his hands. “They just sent out the officers with no warning. I swear they weren’t after me though.”
All eyes were on Rowan as Sebastian helped him up. He shoved a hand into his pocket to feel the crumpled paper there. “Rowan?” Sebastian looked at him, eyes shimmering with worry. A dark shadow stood in the doorway behind Sebastian, red hair like his own. Rowan stared at it before it slipped from the room.
He rubbed his eyes and gave a half-hearted smile to Sebastian. “I think I need to lay down for a while.”
“He was tased.” Kenan said helpfully.
Sebastian winced. “Alright, let’s get you into bed then. We’ll worry about this later.” He wrapped an arm around Rowan to steady him. “Thanks for not getting him killed.” He told Kenan as they passed. “Make sure you get that leg looked at. You’re dripping blood everywhere.”
Each step felt like fresh agony, working its way up his spine and centering on the spot where the taser had made contact. It was too reminiscent of his illness in the bathroom, and he hoped he wouldn’t reenact that scene with Sebastian so close to him. He sat down on the bed and let Sebastian gently ease his shoes off. A soft blanket was tossed around his shoulders and gentle hands rubbed warmth into his arms.
“I need to check on Kenan. Will you be okay for a moment?” Sebastian asked softly.
Rowan nodded and waited for Sebastian to leave the room before pulling out the paper and carefully smoothing out the wrinkles. His name was printed at the top and had all his usual information: when he was born and where and to whom, but that wasn’t all. At the bottom, beside his birth date, was the day of his accident, tethered together by a single but terrifying dash.
The paper jerked in his grasp as he heard the echo of a gunshot, his eyes going down to each line on the page.
“Single gunshot to the head.”
He heard his brother scream his name and saw his own hand place the gun against his temple. He pressed shaking fingers to the jagged scar there.
“Possible suicide.”
Blood pooled out around him, inching along his bedroom floor. It was that nightmare all over again, the one too real, too vivid. The paper fluttered to the floor as he clapped his hands over his ears. He saw himself put the gun up to his head. He heard that gunshot again, over and over again, deafening him. He squeezed his eyes shut.
“What’s this?” Sebastian had returned and picked up the piece of paper from the floor.
Rowan’s eyes snapped open. “Sebastian, don’t--” But he couldn’t hide this from him. He swallowed and said. “I-I think I died. Dad really did break Frankenstein’s law. He’s guilty, and I-I’m a monster. I died.”