A shrill shrieking fills the air. It pierces into my head, resonating against my skull. I barely resist the urge to clamp my hands over my ears. Keeping to the shadows and peeking out from around a corner, I reach the window just in time to see a pair of starfighters streaking by.

Keep moving… Keep moving… Good.

They pass overhead without stopping or slowing. It is just one of their regular patrols. An abandoned city doesn’t have much for them anyway. The first time they flew by, it worried me. I assumed they knew I was here. When they kept going, I relaxed a little, keeping my ears open for the slightest noise. Normally, it would have been an interesting sight. These times are anything but normal.

I turn around and walk back down the corridor. This hallway has never been so empty. It once buzzed with activity and teemed with life. People moving back and forth, delivering letters and packages, talking, enjoying themselves. Excitement always ran rampant in these halls. But now it is desolate, forlorn, dead. Marks of wear dull and stain the metal flooring. A thick coating of dirt runs along the edges of walls. Vines creep through windows and any other opening they can make their way through. Dust hangs thick in the air, acting as a filter for the hazy sunshine streaming in. Cobwebs cling to the corners. I can almost hear my heart thumping.

On either side of the corridor is a courtyard overgrown with plants. Vegetation runs rampant from a lack of groundskeepers. A railing caked in dust and a wall of glass separates me from the yard. In the middle of the green space is a solitary tree. Its branches and roots spread wide, unhindered by human presence.

This is the Capital Building on Mornage. Formerly the seat of a great empire, it is now but a shadow of its former self. Though battered by war and destruction, it stands tall. Now, it’s reduced to this.

My footfalls echo with each step I take, reverberating through the emptiness. I reach up and touch the necklace just under my shirt. Its interlocked stars, crown, spade, and phoenix are chilly on my bare skin. A piece is missing from the corner, but it’s in good condition otherwise. With a vibration, the watch on my wrist tells me it’s fifteen minutes past seven.

Fifteen minutes late, more like it. I turn to leave. I can’t really blame him for not showing up. Stariek is a dead and doomed planet, not to mention blockaded. It was hard enough for me to get in unnoticed. It’ll be even harder for me to get out. I try walking slower to ease the loud echoes, but it does no good.

“Maddening, isn’t it?” a voice behind me says. “I don’t remember this place ever being this empty. Kind of creepy.”

“Benjamin Forest,” I say before turning around, “you always were fashionably late.”

“Hey, you know me, Michael. Being on time is being early.” He shrugs. I hadn’t noticed before that his once black hair is now showing tinges of gray, and the dimples at the corners of his mouth have wrinkles accenting them. Has my hair started doing that too? “Not to mention I needed to slip past those cruisers and frigates to get in.”

I walk over and embrace him. “I thought you wouldn’t show.”

“The thought crossed my mind.” He grins, exposing still perfectly white teeth. With a dismissive wave of a hand, he continues talking. “I figured I should at least see what you want, seeing how you want to keep this so secret as to sneak into a blockaded planet.”

“This never should have happened in the first place, Ben,” I say. I try to keep my voice low, if for no other reason than to keep it from echoing too loud, but I cannot stop myself. “We have the technology and foresight to stop this from happening. The evacuation started fifteen years ago. Fifteen years we’ve had to stop it, but does the Galactic Council care? No, all they care about is touting their strength, pretending to be superior, knowing full well that this has no effect on them. That the billions who lived here don’t matter.”

“Michael, what do you want me to do?” He leans against the railing, resting one of his arms on it, and stares at me. “You know as well as I do. We can’t overturn the Council’s decision, only they can. They set it up that way when it reestablished itself. When your father founded it.”

“They can make mistakes. They’re only human.” I hesitate when Ben gives me a look, and I correct myself. “Well, most of them are human.”

We both laugh, reminding me of the days we used to spend playing as kids. Those days seem so long ago now. After several silent moments, Ben returns us to the task at hand.

“So, why did you bring me here? What’s so important that we have to be here rather than in some nice bar on Arcadia, finding some chicks or something?”

“You know I wouldn’t bring you here if it wasn’t important.” I look him in the eyes. “You’re the only one I can trust these days after I made so many enemies when I was younger.”

I pause briefly, thinking of what to say. “Tynmal’s Comet should be here within the next couple of days. It is, by all reports, expected to destroy everything on the planet. Some of the stronger buildings, sure, will survive, but there will be almost no life left after it hits.”

An air of comprehension mixed with shock appears on Ben’s face.

“And you want to be here when it disappears?” His voice shakes slightly. He stands up and places both hands on the railing, looking over the courtyard. “Michael, why did you call me here if you just wanted to tell me you want to die? We could’ve had this conversation over a drink or something, maybe found some resort on some paradise planet, relax a little.”

“I thought you of all people would understand.” I sigh and walk a short distance away to a window.

Mornage used to be the stereotypical shining utopia. Gleaming skyscrapers, cars speeding through the air, green and vibrant plants everywhere you look. Now, it is bleak, barren, forsaken. The once beautiful buildings lay in disrepair, crumbling from the top down. Cars lay abandoned in the streets. Vines have crept up the walls, covering the metal.

A rumbling rattles the building as another ship flies low overhead. A transport shuttle, probably for more evacuees. It slows and lands somewhere a few kilometers away. I can’t shake that feeling that something feels off about it.

“You deactivated your CAM, right?” I ask Ben. This is no time to take chances.

The cerebrum awareness module, which people lovingly call CAM, is a small, circular, cybernetic implant on the side of a person’s head. It gives them, essentially, a computer attached directly to their brain. One downside is that governments can use the location to detect or track anyone they please.

“Of course,” Ben says, almost scoffing. “I didn’t sneak by that blockade just to have them catch up to me now.”

I let out a gentle sigh, still watching the ship as it flies away. Council officials started the evacuation nearly a decade ago. There should be no one left. Just the foolhardy or sentimental idiots. It might just be picking up more people who changed their minds. After all, they designated Art’Yen Spaceport as an official evacuation zone. But if they know we’re here…

“Help me understand.” Ben’s words interrupt my thoughts. He walks over and places his hand on my shoulder. “You’re my best friend. I’ll listen to anything you have to say.”

“It’s not that I want to die, Ben. It’s just…” I hesitate as I attempt to think of the right words. My throat feels a little congested as I fight back tears. With a deep breath, I continue, “My father, my grandfather, all of my ancestors, have put so much effort into this planet. They’re the reason it’s here today. And now, just to see it tossed to the side like yesterday’s garbage when we have the technology and ability, just not the motivation, to save it is… insulting. I don’t want their work to go to waste.”

“I don’t want that any more than you do, Michael, but how does getting killed fix anything?” He walks in a circle and throws his hands up with the last word, staring at me. Dust from leaning on the railing falls off his sleeve with the sudden movement. “You and I, we can work together to build a new planet, a better planet. Hell, we could even work towards making a better galaxy. You’ve helped rebuild countless planets. Hyperia, Arcadia, Terra, all left better after you got done with them. You can do it again.”

“I didn’t bring you here to try talking me out of it,” I whisper. “I made my mind up. There’s just have a last request I have of you.”

“And what’s that?” he asks. I can feel the vile in his tone.

“I want you to listen to the story of this planet.”

“I’ve been through the same history lessons you have.” He stops short of scoffing. “What will another do for me now?”

“This isn’t just some school history overview that glosses over the subject, Ben. This is the story of how my grandfather, Xaleyp Vah’Aris, brought Stariek to the forefront of the galaxy to become a superpower. How my father, Skylar, continued that legacy. This is the story of my family, not just a lesson.” I look him in the eyes, hoping that he can understand how important this is to me. “It has been a tradition of my family to pass on the story of their grandfather and father to their children. Seeing how I have no kids, I needed some way to continue that tradition. I know you’ve never been the sentimental type, so I understand if you want to say no and head home.”

Several minutes pass in silence, neither of us able to look the other in the eye. Somewhere in the distance, I hear a bird singing. It’s a mournful tune, as if it knows what is coming.

“I never learned how to say no to you,” Ben says, finally breaking the silence. “You used to get us into so much trouble.”

I smile at the thought. “See, the way I remember it, it was you always getting into trouble and dragging me along for the ride. I was the one trying to clean up the messes you left behind.”

“Eh, potato, poh-tah-toe.” He gestures at me with his hand. “Go on then. Tell me whatever you want.”

“First is this.” I grope at my neckline to pull out the pendant and hold it out to him. “My family has passed it down for generations. The spade represents the workers who form the backbone of society, the crown for the government that should protect them, and the phoenix for that endless cycle my family embodied. The stars represent how the different planets in the galaxy must work together to create the galaxy they want to live in. This has guided us for centuries. It’s always passed to the firstborn son, without fail.”

“And you want me to pass it on?” He holds out his hand for it, but I shake my head.

“Not yet, but eventually.” I take a deep breath, trying to decide where I want to start. My stomach churns. I was not expecting him to actually agree to listen. How do I even start? There is so much to tell, more forgotten, and more still that my dad never told me to begin with. Without prompting, I start, “We’re going to start with a little backstory. My family, the Vah’Aris Family, ascended to the stars with the rest of humanity from Terra. We were nothing more than common folk, factory workers.

“Stariek was the first planet found that could sustain life away from Terra. My family worked their way up to a position of power and has held it ever since. Eventually, they helped pave the way for independence from the Terran Interstellar Empire. But all that is not the subject of our story today. We’re jumping forward — far forward — and starting with my grandfather, Xaleyp Vah’Aris.

“Just a few minutes ago, you said that I could build a better planet.” I take a breath and think again, leaning against the window, my back pressed up to it and palms on the sill. “No planet will ever be like this one.”