Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

First Generation Pilot Candidate Interviews
[Origin: Leaked Data Packet]
[Author: Space Program Intake Archives]

Why do you want to go to space?
V: I want something.
Please specify. Everyone goes to space because they want something.
V: I don’t know. My friend said that, until I figure out what it is, everything I do will be full of that want.
So, you want to figure out what it is you want.
V: …Yes?
That’s incredibly vague.
V: I know. Sorry. Does this mean I’m not going to space?
Part of the purpose of the space program is to… figure out what humanity could be. And part of that requires figuring out what we want.
V: Oh… you’re looking for kids who already... Sorry. For, wasting your time.
Actually, we’re looking for the opposite. We’re looking for kids who don’t know what sort of human they want to be yet. We’re hoping that, in space, we can figure it out together.
V: Do you think we really can?
It would be irresponsible of me to say that I did. I will say instead that this is central to the mission of the space program.
There’s a tissue box to your left if you need it.
V: T-thank you…

Venus and Jupiter circle each other in the shadow of the planet Cronus, which will never be Saturn. More accurately, Venus orbits Jupiter, whose gravity is far too strong for her to decisively escape. Venus, however, is far too experienced and far too determined to allow herself to be pulled any closer, so she follows the path of an object perpetually falling but never drawing closer—an orbit. Her ship self, the Artemis Corona, is a spectacular mass of eyes, feathers, and light in the shape of a human. It excels at recon, misdirection, and any form of visual communication. Its delicate structure and evasive functions say “look, don’t touch,” which is part of why it’s currently putting so much effort into keeping distance from its counterpart, Jupiter’s Epaphus Mensa. The Epaphus Mensa excels at communication—and fighting—up close, through touch, and between its supermassive tidal reactor and its pilot’s incredible tidal sensitivity, its touch reaches much farther than most. For a moment, Venus feels a familiar hand on her cheek, beckoning her closer, and shivers.

V: So Memorial Foundation heard the broadcast too. You must be after the prototype. I can’t imagine anyone at the Foundation is comfortable with something like that out in the world.
J: And Cradle’s Graces is? I didn’t think either of us trusted Celestial Mechanics.
V: There’s a place for everything in space. We’re mostly uncomfortable with the idea of that ship in the hands of Iapetus. But from what I hear, the Galatea’s current pilot is an old friend of mine.
J: Neptune?

Jupiter blushes at the mention; she was never close with Neptune like Venus was, but her last memory of her was drunk and breathless, locked together in a supply closet on the pretext of some party game, touching and being touched. Jupiter had wanted to know Neptune more after that, but for all the strength of her gravity she has never been good at reaching out, and Celestial Mechanics made its official split with Memorial Foundation shortly afterwards. There is a ripple in Venus’s gravity that feels like a giggle, and Jupiter blushes harder. Venus covers her mouth with her hand as she speaks, trying unsuccessfully to hide her excitement at meddling in Jupiter’s love life.

V: Oh! Is it like that? I’d be happy to set up a date for you under other circumstances, but I’m afraid we have a prior engagement. Maybe some other time.
J: S-so what if it’s like that? I still can’t allow the Galatea to threaten our future!
V: Just as I can’t allow you to threaten ours.

[Jupiter forces a change of plans] (outcome favors Memorial Foundation)
--->[Venus sets the schedule] (outcome favors Cradle’s Graces)<---

The balance shifts, because Venus stared her down, and Jupiter blinked first.

Suddenly, all of Venus’s innumerable eyes are fixed on Jupiter. They blink in unison and unleash a hail of hard light. Jupiter reaches out, plucks individual bullets off of their trajectories, sweeps great swathes of the attack off course. Nothing even comes close to her. Venus expected nothing less, so she keeps up the pace, loosing salvo after salvo of weaponized light. The result is the same each time, but all the energy and focus Venus is putting into her assault has to come from somewhere, and the cost is her ability to maintain a stable orbit. Slowly, imperceptibly at first, Venus spirals towards Jupiter, and it won’t be long before Jupiter takes notice. Venus is counting on it.

J: You’re slipping!
V: Then come catch me!

Jupiter is tired of being on the defensive. The Epaphus Mensa lunges forward, all its attention directed at plucking Venus out of orbit. A few neglected bullets bite uselessly into the Epaphus Mensa’s side, far too small to really harm a ship that big. Now that Venus has Jupiter’s full attention, she brings a real threat to bear. The pinpricks cast by her eyes coalesce into a giant spike of hard light as if focused by an invisible lens. Jupiter’s tides close around the Artemis Corona, and Venus fires. Jupiter is overextended, and before she can react the missile rips through her arm and lodges in her side. The arm isn’t so great a loss, when the Epaphus Mensa still has 5 more, but the wound in her side is deep even for a ship-self as sturdy as Jupiter’s. She recoils, and Venus slips out of her weakened grip.

V: You’re slipping.
J: Shut up!

Venus giggles. Her Artemis Corona flits around Jupiter as the weakened Epaphus Mensa struggles to keep up. More and more pinpricks of light nip at Jupiter’s skin, and even these small insults begin to add up. Jupiter lashes out and grazes Venus with discharged electricity, and loses another arm for her trouble. She sighs.

J: Fiiiiine you win.
V: Had enough?
J: Not really. You know I could keep this up for at least another 3 limbs.
V: But you know that’s where we’re headed. So, you’ve had enough.
J: Sure, I guess.
V: I wasn’t kidding about setting you up with Neptune.
J: I know. You live for this stuff.
V: If by “this stuff” you mean “making my loved ones happy,” then yes.
J: I meant “meddling.”
V: Me? Meddling? I’m shocked you would accuse me of such a thing.
J: What would you call it then?
V: Romantic facilitating?
J: That’s a pretty fancy way to say “meddling.”
V: If you want me to stay out of it I will. I thought you appreciated it though?
J: I do. I just also like giving you a hard time.
V: So does Neptune! Oh, you’ll be great for each other!

Text Communication Log: Halimede and Jupiter
Halimede
Princess of Memorial Foundation NSES. Until no one is forgotten, and all are remembered

Jupiter
Pilot of Epaphus Mensa. DMs always open if you need to talk :)
Hey Hali.
Do you remember Neptune?

Who?

One of the third generation candidates?
Ran a moonshine operation out of her research lab?

Oh, her

Not a fan?

She was always such a jerk!
And then she ran off with Celestial Mechanics and the rest of those jerks
Is she the one flying the prototype? You better give her hell for me!

Haha, of course!

Wait… you’re not just looking for another excuse to kiss her, are you?

I never said that!

But you’re always looking for an excuse to kiss people you shouldn’t!
Venus put you up to this, didn’t she?
That traitor is such a bad influence! I really wish you’d get over her already
I worry the only way you will is by learning the hard way she can’t be trusted

Oh, I know better than to trust her.

Then why are you always falling for her bullshit?

Because I love her.

Remind me again why I keep you around when your loyalties are so clearly compromised?

I’m the best pilot left in Memorial Foundation.
And I’m the only girl in space who can handle the Epaphus Mensa.
And also, you like me anyway for some reason?

Ugh you’re right about that last one but it’s a mystery to me too
And the fact that you’re so capable on paper only makes it worse that you fuck up so consistently

I know.

The fact that you know also makes it worse
If I had what you had, this war would be over by now
Your gifts could be put to better use by literally any other pilot

Damn it, I know.

… That was too much. Sorry.

It’s true though.

It’s not quite true. You still have a chance to put them to good use too
I believe in you, Jupiter. You just need to take it

Chapter Text

The Galatea cuts a sleek black streak across the shining rings of Cronus, headed straight for the bright white streak that is Venus in her Artemis Corona. It’s a movement that Venus interprets as a joyful reunion, and Neptune as a hunter closing in on her prey. As they draw closer, and Neptune shows no signs of slowing, Venus nervously opens her comms

V: Neptune! Welcome to Cradle’s Graces! That is why you’re here… right?

In response Neptune swipes at Venus with her claws, leaving a trail of deep sea-green ichor in their wake. Venus makes an undignified noise as she ducks, and then backs away from Neptune in a flash of light

N: Ew, god no. Sorry Venus, but I have better things to do than throw my life away for your hopeless cause.
V: Ouch. I don’t even know what to say to that.
V: Aside from, why did you broadcast your lab’s location if not for us to come pick you up?
N: First of all, that could’ve been anyone. Second of all, I’m the only one who can pilot the prototype without getting very sick. Of course, that’s an issue we’ve been hard at work fixing, and given time, we would. And then my baby would be handed off to someone a lot easier to control.
V: Oh! But if there was an emergency…
N: If there was an emergency, like, for example, a Cradle’s Graces attack on our recently exposed development lab, I would have no choice but to pilot the ship-self on an official mission. Taking my Galatea away will be a lot more trouble politically when I fly it to victory against the shining veteran of Cradle’s Graces.
V: Oh my! I’m impressed! It’s a shame, though, that I can’t just let you stop me. Celestial Mechanics is dangerous, for everyone, and life in space is too precious to me to let you endanger it.
N: Humans will never live in space. Earth has already decided. If you really want a life for us in space, you’d be with us, working to become something more than human.
N: Besides, shouldn’t you of all people see the appeal of a new body?
V: I already have a new body, and I’m quite happy with it! I’ll always be grateful for you part in that, and I won’t pretend the alien isn’t tempting, but…
V: I could never abandon humanity knowing there are girls like me stuck on Earth, who never got the chance that I got.
V: That’s why I can’t just be happy with life in space for us. I won’t give up until everyone has a chance to live in space.
N: You know that’s impossible. Ugh. Can’t you just… care a little less? You manage to shrug off so many other things and then you choose to die on the worst possible hill.
V: Sorry Neptune, but… not about this. Never about this.

There is a flash of light, and Venus is suddenly between Neptune and the lab, barreling towards her original destination and away from her old friend. The capabilities of the Galatea are still largely a mystery, and Venus has no desire to learn them the hard way. Neptune reacts quickly, learning her own capabilities in real time, and tries to pull Venus back. Venus is suddenly swimming against the current of spacetime itself, but she’s still gaining ground little by little, and before too long she’ll be out of reach. Neptune can’t allow that, so she spits a glob of ichor at Venus, which catches her square in the back. The toxin sizzles and oozes down the Artemis Corona, not nearly enough to do any real damage, but enough to get Neptune what she wants. Venus slows until she’s treading spacetime, then turns around with a glint in her eye.

V: Actually, the lab can wait. I’ll deal with it after I teach you a lesson!

The ichor produced by Galatea is meant to inspire reckless confidence and encourage rash decisions. Concocted by Neptune herself, it’s the feeling of wanting to break a window distilled into a thick, caustic form of exotic matter. It’s the perfect weapon for a group that wants all of space to leap into the unknown, and it’s currently coursing through Venus’s system.

When Venus stops resisting the tug of Neptune’s gravity, and instead leans into it, she accelerates very, very quickly. As solid light slugs slam into her body and that screaming mass of feathers and eyes hurtles towards her, Neptune wonders if she made a mistake.

The impact is messy, for both of them. Neptune is covered in deep cuts and seared by the Artemis Corona’s light, and her left arm has been severed at the shoulder. Venus is impaled on 3 of the Galatea’s claws and covered in ichor. She moves to cut off Neptune’s other arm but Neptune kicks away, and they tumble away from each other. Neither of them are in any shape to continue the fight, and Venus is certainly in no shape to deal with the Celestial Mechanics lab. Neptune figures that’ll have to be enough to spin as her heroic victory.

V: Well, if there’s anyone from Celestial Mechanics I trust with that thing, it’s you.
N: Hah. It’s not like you have a choice
V: Maybe not. I still mean it.
N: Thanks. If there’s anyone I trust to stand against earth, it’s you. Even though you are doomed to fail.
V: Heh. Glad I can count on you to cheer me up.
N: Would you rather I lied?
V: Well, I know I’m doomed, but I have to do this anyway. A pleasant lie is nice sometimes in those circumstances. Not from you, though. It wouldn’t be the least bit believable. Plus it’d just be… weird.
N: I’m glad you don’t expect that from me. Maybe if I yell at you enough you’ll come to your senses.
V: I won’t stop you from trying

The two float in silence, and focus for awhile on knitting themselves back together. After any intense exchange—an argument, an embrace, a fight between ship-selves—there is a lull, a time to recover, reflect, and reset. In the latter sort of exchange, it’s also the time to physically pull yourself back together, to close wounds and reattach limbs through the gravity of your tidal reactor.

It goes more quickly for Neptune, not because she got any less messed up than Venus, but because the Galatea is made to heal quickly, and the Artemis Corona is very much not. It’s the difference between snapping puzzle pieces into place and assembling a sculpture out of toothpicks and glue. When Neptune finishes she turns to leave, and Venus speaks:

V: By the way I should warn you, if not as a comrade then as a friend: Memorial Foundation is after you too.
N: Of course they are. Where do you think I’m headed next?
V: They sent Jupiter.
N: Oh you mean your girlfriend? The one who chose earth over you? The one who kissed me and then disappeared?
V: I’m the only one allowed to be angry her for that first one! Also you just said I was doomed? Also? I don’t recall you making any effort to follow up with her???
N: Why should I? She kissed me.
V: That’s? Not how that works??
N: Sure it is.
V: She’s dangerous.
N: Sounds like a perfect opportunity to show off what the Galatea and I can do.
V: She’s, like, really dangerous.
N: If you’re trying to convince me to stay away it’s not working.
V: Not at all! It’s past time you two stopped avoiding each other!
V: Just, be careful, ok?
 

Text Communication Log: Neith and Neptune
Neith
aspiring slime creature

Neptune
A bitch in space on purpose. Lead researcher; Department of Sociochemistry.

iapetus is so pissed
officially hes all smiles but hes SO pissed

GOD, I know, if I get nothing else out of this it’ll all be worth it just for that.

haha same
but you better not stop now

There’s no WAY I’m stopping now.
I’m not stopping til we’re all weird aliens

yessssssss
anyway if youre not stopping you should know whats up next
memorial foundation is after us too
actually I think theyre after you specifically
and they sent, get this,

Jupiter

Jupiter!
Ugh what youre no fun

Venus told me already

what a spoilsport!

She’d take satisfaction in being called that
Even though there’s no conceivable way she could know she ruined your surprise

lmao what a bitch

I know right
I love her

god
anyway
raises eyebrows

Don’t raise ur fucking eyebrows at me

:3c

Shut UP

don’t you two have unfinished business?

I wouldn’t call it that

what would you call it?

We kissed once and then she fucked off to hang out with the worst people in space

oh my mistake sounds like ur totally over it

There’s nothing to get over

well good
guess that means you wont be too disappointed
about your orders to avoid engaging her at all costs

Seriously.

Ahaha I thought there was nothing to get over

It’s not about that!
This is like a perfect opportunity to show everyone what the Galatea can do
What I can do

I mean ur not wrong
even if I don’t believe you when you say its not about that
but why do you think iapetus wants to keep you away from her?

Ha
The better question is, why does he think orders will stop me

wishful thinking?

Lmao

maybe hes hoping to take advantage if something goes wrong

Yeah probably
He’s always doing that

Channel Closed

Chapter Text

The Epaphus Mensa looms over the fleeing Celestial Mechanics fleet like a dark cloud on a summer day. A storm swirls around the 6-armed giant even here in the vacuum of space, with nothing but her own gravity for a medium. There is a silent, thunderous crack and the last pilot sent to stop her runs sizzling back to safety. Jupiter isn’t here for any of them. She’s not even really here for the fleet, as helpful it would be hinder Celestial Mechanics on their way to the gravity well. The real reason she’s here remains frustratingly distant, and also frustratingly hidden.
Jupiter considers giving up. She has a great opportunity to strike a blow at their enemy, Galatea or no, and she knows she’ll get yelled at if she passes it up. Her heart just isn’t in it. The storm outside Jupiter is one of strength and confidence and literal, actual lightning, but her perpetual internal storm rages with guilt and fear—of failure, of shame, of rejection. Clearly Neptune wants nothing to do with her, or she would’ve shown herself already. The storm subsides, just a little, and Jupiter is preparing to pull back, when Neptune bursts out of her hangar and jets away in the opposite direction from the fleet. Jupiter gives chase before she can second guess herself

N: Oh, now you want to get in touch with me
J: You’re piloting the most dangerous thing in space!
N: That’s really all this is about?
N: Unbelievable
J: W-wait, that’s not—
N: You realize how incredibly fucking rude it is to tell a girl you only want her for her body?
J: I! That’s now what I meant!
N: It’s what you said! And not just with your words.
N: You kiss me, and then disappear for almost a year, and then as soon as I get a shiny new toy you show up to take it away.
N: How else am I supposed to take that?
J: I disappeared?
J: I’m not the one who ran off with Celestial Mechanics!
J: I’m not the one who’s running right now!
N: You wanted to though, didn’t you?
N: I saw you when I launched. You were just about to leave. Even after you saw me, you hesitated.
N: But fine. You want me to stop running?

Neptune changes direction instantly. Her speed is the same, but her velocity is the inverse of what it was a moment ago. It shouldn’t be possible, but neither should becoming truly alien. Celestial Mechanics has spent a long time testing the bounds of possibility and finding the cracks. The Galatea flows through those cracks, seeping into the Is-Not, and slowly but surely they widen, the deliberate erosion of the impossible, like shoreline crumbling into the sea. When she connects with Jupiter, what she does is the opposite of erosion—the instant, decisive severing of a limb from the body.

N: There. I’m not running anymore.
J: You, uh, sure aren’t, haha.
N: !

Neptune can’t move. If she’s close enough to touch Jupiter, she’s also close enough to be touched. She’s frozen halfway through her follow-through, restrained as if by hundreds of invisible hands. The weight of Jupiter’s gravity closes in. Neptune can feel her ship being slowly crushed.

N: Ugh.
N: Now what? You’re going to drag me back “home” and take away the most important part of me? Such a good lapdog for Earth. I don’t know what she sees in you.
J: Well, that is what I should do.
J: The Galatea isn’t a toy. It might be the most existentially threatening tech ever conceived by humans.
J: I really should just bring you in.
Jupiter’s grip relaxes, just a little. Neptune begins to feel more cradled than crushed
J: I don’t really want to though.
N: Ugh. What do you want? It’d be easier for both of us if you just figured that out.
J: Um. I’m not sure. I guess I want… to talk?
N: Oh my god. Now? Just crush me instead.
J: Why not now? It’s like the first time we’ve even seen each other since…
N: Since we made out with each other? Yeah. Whose fault is that?
J: Um… both of ours… probably?

Neither of them like taking the first step. Jupiter believes that anyone who doesn’t pursue her isn’t interested in her anyway, and she doesn’t want to be a bother. Neptune believes that anyone who doesn’t pursue her doesn’t care enough to be worth her time, and sees a lack of initiative as a lack of effort. Neither want to confront the ridiculousness of their attitudes if applied symmetrically, but now they’re face to face, and it’s unavoidable. Jupiter is just the first to say it out loud. It pisses Neptune off, but she can’t disagree.

N: Ok, fine. What do you want to talk about?
J: Well, for starters, what are you doing in that thing? I never thought of you as much of a pilot.
N: Well, I’m the one who made it. Or, most of it at least. I can’t trust it to anyone else.
J: That’s… impressive. But also really scary.
N: Well, I’m scary. You should be scared.
J: Like, I don’t trust anyone with it. Even you. Maybe especially you.
N: And yet…
J: It’s not a matter of trust though. It’s like you said. It’s an important part of you. It’d be cruel to take that away.
N: …
N: That’s literally your entire goal.
N: Literally that’s what’s going to happen if Earth wins.
J: I don’t have to like it.
N: You kind of do, if you’re going to fight for it.
J: What I like is not dying, and not watching my friends get themselves killed. I’m not in any hurry to see you grounded. Even if that’s how it ends.
J: If I let you go you could be very dangerous for Earth. And maybe, because of that, dangerous for everyone else, too. But my goals aren’t the same as Earth’s. Neither are Memorial Foundation’s, for that matter. Don’t make me out to be the bad guy.
N: Ugh
J: Would a bad guy let you go?
N: Uh, yes? She’d let me go now so I fall even harder into a trap down the line. It’d be the most obvious thing to do.
N: You’re too straightforward for that though. This is just sincere sentimentality.
J: Uh, thanks?
N: That wasn’t a compliment.
Jupiter backs away from Neptune as she loosens her grip, like she’s trying to set down a snake without getting bitten.
J: I… hope I see you again soon.
N: …Me too.

Text Communication Log: Mars and Venus
Mars
Princess of Cradle’s Graces. If you want to kill the future, come and take it from us!

Venus
Lighting the way for all of Earth’s unwanted children
So, next stop Ares

Yep!

Why?

You mean aside from the fact that it’s our home, and the symbol of our tenacity?

Yeah, I guess aside from that
We can reach the moon a lot quicker if we don’t make any stops

Babe.
You know we’re not going to win this by getting there first.
That’s not how the gravity well works. And besides, Ares will be a big morale boost

Will it?
Isn’t Ares a symbol for a little more than our tenacity?
It’s also a reminder of what Earth does to anyone who defies them
If we want to see that so bad, we might as well hurry up and make our big play

Don’t talk like that Vee.
We all know what’s going to happen to us when we stand against earth
But if we act like there’s no chance then we really are doomed
As long as we hold onto just a little hope, we can change something, even if we lose.

Thanks Mars
Pep talks like that are why you’re our leader

I’m our leader because no one else wants to be

That too I guess

I don’t want to be either
It's hard to have so much depending on me
And it sucks to be treated like a princess

You make a very cute princess though ^^

awww thanks <3
But really, everyone’s walking on eggshells around me
I haven’t had a good fight in forever
You just now were the strongest voice of dissent I’ve heard in weeks!
Are people… scared of me? Like what are they afraid I’ll do?
Do I really come off as such a tyrant?

It’s not you they’re scared of
I think everyone’s worried that if they start pushing back on you, they’ll push you right out of power
And then they’ll be stuck in charge

haha
I guess I’d be scared too if I were them…

Would it make you feel better if I fought you?

babe
Last time you offered you went down in one hit
And then apologized for not lasting longer
I felt so bad!

Oh right, sorry

Venus.

Yeah, old habits
I just wish I could do something to make you feel better
I know it’s hard on you but you’re doing such a good job
You might be the only one with the faith we need to see this through

That’s sweet
You make me feel better just by being here!
I don’t need you to be more than that.

Chapter Text

I will always remember the Mar-Ares regression campaign as the worst part of the war. Nowhere else was it more painfully obvious that I was fighting for the bad guys. After all, what sort of good guy fights to destroy something beautiful? The job of the good guys is to build beautiful things, to nurture fresh life and culture, and then to protect them when us bad guys show up to tear them all down. Who cares if we’re doing it for love? Is there anything that would justify that?

I fought for them anyway. I’m not a good person, no matter what side I’m on, and at least this way there’s a chance I could keep everyone safe.

Even that failed, in the end. We hoped that if we destroyed Mars, Cradles Graces would give up on the dream of living in space. Instead they just dug in deeper, and now they’re living on Ares instead of Mars, on a barren home not even suitable for human life.

Halimede says I should be angry about that. That I should be mad at how stubbornly they insist on self-destruction. I’m not. I’m just sad. All I can think of is how typical it is that I tried to save everyone, and instead just made everything worse.

—Journal Entry, Jupiter, Memorial Foundation Superweapon

The Memorial Foundation fundamentally misunderstood why we wanted to stay in space. They thought it was because we liked living in space for the sake of space, so they made life in space as difficult as possible, and then were surprised when we refused to leave. In truth, we cling to space because we can’t live anywhere else. Our ship-selves aren’t the only part of us that would be crushed by Earth’s gravity and Culture. The lives we built for ourselves are only possible outside of Earth’s authority, and we’re not ready to give that up.

I don’t mean to imply this is only for our own sakes. After all, if we keep up like this we’re probably going to get ourselves killed. If we returned to Earth, we might not be Living, but we’d still be alive. And there are some things even Earth can’t take away. There is no gravity so strong that it can force me into my old shape. If I was only fighting for us, I wouldn’t be part of Cradle’s Graces.

Many of us in the space program had to learn to be human the hard way. And yet we are so lucky that we got a chance to be ourselves at all. How many more of us are stuck on Earth, trapped by the weight of Culture with no way out? We have to stay in space to prove a point. That our home is barely fit for life only proves our point further. There’s a future for humanity in space, no matter how hard-won, and Cradle’s Graces will light the way. It’s not about the beautiful vistas of Mars any more than it’s about the barren wastes of Ares. The future we fight for is freedom from 9.8m/s/s for all of Earth’s unwanted children.

—Statement from a blog post by Venus, Cradle’s Graces Veteran

Everyone else in space is acting like they already lost and it’s infuriating! Memorial Foundation has already given up and is fighting to make the rest of us give up too. Cradle’s Graces is fighting for the chance to lose righteously. They’re both wasting time worrying about Earth when they could be worrying about us. None of us would be up here in the first place if we were happy with our earthly bodies. The allure of a ship-self is the freedom it offers from those confines. Why stop there? We’ve all seen what happened to Phaeton—we could have that too, if we have the guts to take it.

Instead, they’re wasting time fighting over a worthless, ruined planet. They’re not even fighting at this point so much as talking past each other. Memorial Foundation is too pragmatic to understand the symbolic value of Ares, and Cradle’s Graces is too idealistic to care about the practical issues with living on a dead ball of rust. Neither of them are putting any thought towards our real future.

Whatever. If they’re too thick to figure it out themselves, we’ll show them the way.

—Posted by Neptune, Celestial Mechanics Sociochemist, in the #vent channel of a private chatroom

Chapter Text

Venus soars above Ares in her Artemis Corona, eyes shining and wings gleaming. She’s beautiful, and for a moment Jupiter forgets what she came here to do. Her Epaphus Mensa lies in wait in a crevice halfway up Olympus Mons, all six of its arms folded in to allow the massive ship-self to fit in its perfect hiding place. Even so, she’ll be discovered if she lets Venus get much closer. Very little can hide from the Artemis Corona’s light, and even less can hide from the sharp gaze of its pilot.
Before she can get close, Venus slams into a tangle of Jupiter’s tidal forces, like a moth falling into a web. Jupiter lets her hang there for a moment, and then she plummets, falling from the grip of Jupiter’s tides to the waiting hands of her ship-self. All Ship-Selves were built for communication, but the Epaphus Mensa is especially strong in the sort that happens skin-to-skin. She’s a beast of a ship, built to touch and be touched—to hurt and be hurt. The Artemis Corona is built to be seen, not touched, and if Jupiter can just bring Venus in close, she knows she’ll have the upper hand.

Easier said than done.

For a moment, Venus is close enough to touch, and then she rights her ship-self in a burst of heat and light, slips out of Jupiter’s grasp, and darts away. She dances just out of reach of Jupiter’s gravity, still close enough to talk, and maybe take a few potshots.

V: Jupiter! It’s so good to see you again!

As soon as Venus opens her mouth Jupiter wonders if she had ever been all that hidden. Venus prefers it when no one can tell exactly what she’s capable of, and she’s just the sort of pilot to fly headlong into a trap if she thinks she can turn it to her advantage.

J: It’s always good to see you, Venus
V: I know. I’m stunning, aren’t I? But you didn’t have to go to all this trouble if you just wanted to see me.
J: Memorial Foundation wants you caught and taken in before you can get close enough to spy on us. But you’re not caught off guard that easily, are you?
V: Whatever do you mean? You really gave me a shock back there! You shouldn’t underestimate yourself Jupiter.
J: I know from experience not to underestimate you, either. What are you really after?
V: Hey!!! Just because you showed your hand at the first opportunity doesn’t mean I will! Not all of us can rely on overwhelming force, you know! Some of us have to show some discretion!
J: You can’t blame me for trying, right?
V: I can blame you for being rude about it! I resent the implication that I care so little for my cause!
J: I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just, can’t you be open about these things with me of all people?
V: Jupiter, we’re at war

Jupiter looks stricken. Venus is at her meanest when she has no intention of being mean. Her face softens.

V: Oh, Jupiter. You know how much you mean to me. But if you think that means we can just spill our guts to each other, you’re not taking this seriously enough. I left because I really believed in Cradle’s Graces. I thought you stayed because you really believed in your side, too.
J: …
V: Why didn’t you leave with me when you had the chance?
J: …
V: Is it that you don’t want the guilt of having to choose? You want someone to make you live in space, so when something goes wrong, the blame falls on them? On me?
V: Or is it so, when Earth inevitably drags us back, you can play the hero and take the credit? You don’t want to be a rebel and a traitor; you want to be the good girl who brought all of Earth’s lost children home.
V: But you won’t be. You’ll always be an alien to them. Why are you so eager to please the people who hate you?
J: I’m not! You think I like being associated with Earth? I’m doing this because it’s the best way forward, the only way forward, for all of us.
V: Then show me you really mean it!

The balance shifts, because Venus was ready, and Jupiter was too.
Venus swoops in at Jupiter, ready for a real fight, but unready for just how quickly Jupiter takes up the challenge. As soon as she makes her move she feels a hand wrap around her ankle, and the Artemis Corona screams in protest as she’s swept off her feet, erupting with heat and light and sound. This time, Jupiter won’t let go so easily. She grits her teeth and pulls, and Venus hurtles down Jupiter’s gravity well towards her waiting embrace.
The Artemis Corona isn’t meant to fight up close, but Venus is never without a trick up her sleeve, and neither is her ship. Those wings of hers, so delicate-looking from afar, made to see and be seen, are also made to cut. As she reaches Jupiter she twists around and cuts a deep gash across the Epaphus Mensa’s chest. On any other ship self, it would be a serious wound, but the Epaphus Mensa is made to be hurt. Jupiter just laughs and grabs on, lets the sharp feathers sink into her palm. She squeezes, and the wing crumples as Venus falls to her knees.

V: Oof. I guess you really do mean it. I’m glad!
J: Just because I won’t throw myself away for your impossible dream doesn’t mean there’s nothing I’m willing to fight for.
V: I know. I’m sorry for doubting you.
J: So… what now?
V: Shouldn’t you be the one to answer that question? You have me at your mercy.

Jupiter can’t quite believe it, and she’s right not to, although not for the right reasons. The Artemis Corona doesn’t need wings to fly, and Venus has slipped out of worse before. But Venus has no intention of slipping away just yet, not without seeing what Jupiter will do.

J: …Open your cockpit
V: …I thought you were showing me how serious you were.
She opens the cockpit anyway, revealing a dazzling array of joysticks and switches, surrounded by a dazzling array of crystals and mirrors, all framing a dazzling figure in the center.
J: I am serious! Can’t I have a little fun and still be serious?
V: You better be really serious if you’re still hoping to bring me in after this.
Venus smiles and suddenly Jupiter feels like she’s the one who’s caught.

Text Communication Log: Halimede and Jupiter
Halimede
Princess of Memorial Foundation NSES. Until everyone is remembered, and no-one forgotten

Jupiter
Pilot of Epaphus Mensa. DMs always open if you need to talk :)

This is the second time in as many missions you’ve come back empty handed

Halimede… please… can we just
Not do this?

We can “not do this” once you start getting serious.
And start actually completing your mission objectives!

I am serious!

If you were serious, we’d have two of our most dangerous enemies in custody by now
I’ve seen you fight. You’re not going to convince me that they never gave you an opening.

Look, I’m sorry…

Don’t apologize. Just do better.

You sound like Europa.

Well, be glad I brought this up personally instead of sending her.
What happened between you two anyway? You used to be her best student.

Nothing “happened” between us. You wouldn’t understand the problem if I told you though.
And, I was never her best student. I just got the best grades. There’s a big difference, with her.

Well anyway, now I have to put you on a penalty assignment.

You don’t “have” to do anything.
But I’ll gladly take the assignment if it will make you feel better.

I’ll feel better when, again, you start getting serious. But until then maybe boredom will motivate you.
Or something. At least I can pretend it will.
So, you’re on guard duty. There’s a cache of confiscated Cradle’s Graces supplies that we don’t want the rebels to get their hands on. You are to stand watch at Olympus Ruins and protect the cache until we depart for the Lagrange Colony

That sounds pretty unimportant.

That’s what makes it a punishment.

It’s kind of a relief actually.

Please just work with me here Jupiter.
Would it feel more punishing if I told you there was sensitive information buried with the supplies?

Uh, sure.

I’ll take it.

Won’t sending the biggest Ship-Self on Ares to an abandoned city bring a lot of unwanted attention? Unless the cache really is worthless.

Well, that’s why the cache is about a mile outside the city.
From the top of one of those buildings you should have a clear view of anyone in the area, and if someone does come investigating they won’t find anything right under you.
And it shouldn’t matter anyway, because you’re strong enough to crush anyone who comes looking. But after your recent performance I’m not about to take any chances.
Look at this mission as a chance to do some thinking. You have important things to consider while you’re waiting around.
Like, why are you still with Memorial Foundation if your heart’s not in it?

What if you don’t like the answer I find?

I’d rather you figure it out now than hum and haw until we make it to the moon.
If you’re going to disappoint me again maybe you can at least have good timing for once.

Chapter Text

Jupiter scans the horizon from the tallest building on Ares. The city below her is almost pristine, despite the conflict. These buildings were designed to be livable once Ares had fully become Mars; they’re just empty shells without the terraformers and gravity engines to provide atmosphere and Culture, so there was never any need to fight over them.

Was there ever a point in fighting over any of Ares? Why didn’t she leave with Venus when she had the chance? The answer is the same obvious thing she’s always told herself: Earth is terrifying, and a bunch of rebels clinging to space is just a great excuse for Earth to kill them all without remorse.

Of course, it was obvious enough that Venus knew it too, and she still went off to join Cradle’s Graces. Venus could always put up with a lot, to the point that it was a problem, but she was dangerously stubborn in the face of injustice.

Jupiter was just tired and scared, and willing to settle for a bad deal if it meant nobody had to die.

J: Besides, if we’re going to end up grounded anyway, wouldn’t it be better to do it on our own terms?

Well, not everyone in space had that future in mind. But somehow Celestial Mechanics was even scarier than Earth. Sure, the alien was attractive, but it was also… alien. Jupiter would always prefer the comfort of the familiar, even when the familiar was kind of awful.

Neptune thinks that’s boring, but she’s glad Jupiter can at least acknowledge it.

J: Neptune… speaking of attractive parts of Celestial Mechanics. Wait, why—

Before she can speculate further on how anyone could’ve snuck up on her, Jupiter slips, and suddenly the Epaphus Mensa is sinking. The solid concrete beneath her becomes impossibly fluid, and a clawed hand reaches up from below to pull her down.

N: You know, I used to think you were a cop, before we met at Cronus.
J: Glad you learned something from our last encounter. Didn’t you also learn from how it ended?
J: Here, I’ll remind you

Jupiter reaches out but it’s like reaching through actual liquid concrete. The shape beneath is slippery and indistinct, and whenever she begins to grasp it it takes on a new, frustratingly vague shape.
N: God, please at least try to meet me halfway. If you really want to catch me you’ll have to come down here.

Neptune tugs at the Epaphus Mensa’s leg. Jupiter hesitates.

N: Come on! I want to show you something.
J: I don’t trust you.
N: You don’t need to. You’re you! I couldn’t hurt you even if I wanted to, and you’re safe in your ship-self. If you can’t even take a risk when there are no consequences, when can you?
J: …
N: Don’t say never.
J: I wasn’t going to!
J: …Fine.

The Epaphus Mensa falters and the Galatea pulls it under in one swift motion. Jupiter is completely submerged. Her many senses blink out one by one until she’s alone in a dark cockpit. Panic begins to set in and she curses herself for letting Neptune push her around.

But Neptune is right here with her. All Jupiter has to do is meet her halfway.

Jupiter reaches out, expecting a wall of gray nothing, and jumps when she realizes Neptune is right next to her, literally, in her cockpit.

N: Calm down Jupiter, we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet. Look.

Jupiter looks, and the cockpit falls away to reveal a waiting area for what looks like a hair salon. Neptune remains beside her, and behind her through a window is the dusty gray sky of Ares.

A patron sits in front of a mirror, and behind them the Galatea brandishes an array of soft, strange instruments: some tongs, a brush, a pipette, and more that Jupiter doesn’t recognize.

The Galatea goes to work gently, lovingly, brushing through the hair of her charge until it sprouts little tongues of flame. This startles Jupiter, but the look on the patron’s face is one of relief.

More fire, and larger flames. The change is subtle until it’s not. An arm clatters to the floor and burns away, replaced by a limb of shining bronze. A new being emerges, warm and metallic, and expansive too, flames licking gently, painlessly at everything around them.

J: What is this?
N: Eversion. Or a projection of a possible version of it. It’s our word for what happened to Phaeton: giving up humanity to become something alien, but fundamentally true to yourself. It’s beautiful right?
J: It’s scary.

Neptune frowns and rolls her eyes.

J: Ok yeah, it’s beautiful too. Plenty of dangerous things are beautiful. Fire is beautiful, but it'll burn you.
N: Is this fire burning you?
J: It’s not real fire!
N: They’re a real alien though. Or real enough for us. You’re not melting away at the touch.
J: I—that’s not what I’m scared of.
N: What. What are you scared of?
J: Your goal… eversion. It means becoming an Existential Threat, right? The thing we fought so hard against.
N: We’re already the Existential Threat. Did you forget the whole reason we’re not allowed in space anymore? Earth has decided that we are the aliens.
J: Ok but… you know what I mean. Becoming like… whatever those were.
N: We already are in all the ways that matter. It’s not a metaphor or a cute turn of phrase. The children of space, as we are right now, pose a very real Existential Threat to the culture of Earth.
J: Then why all this effort for a change like that?
N: Because it’s fun? Because it’s beautiful—you saw. Because we’re tired of our earthly bodies. Because as long as we remain in our earthly bodies, we’ll never be free of earth.
J: …
N: Ok, I guess it’s all a little abstract still. I showed you one possible version. Would you like to see how it might look for you?
J: I… huh?

The Galatea calls for the next customer, and Jupiter turns to watch the Epaphus Mensa rise and make its way over to the salon chair.

J: Oh! Oh, wow. Yeah, I should probably see this.

The Epaphus Mensa sits down and the Galatea descends on it with its odd set of tools. Jupiter’s hair stands on end as her mech opens at unseen seams and fills the room with the smell of ozone. A thunderous crack, and dark red smoke pours from the gaps, curling around the ship-self like a cocoon.

Outside, the wind howls and clouds swirl and coalesce into a crackling red knot. Neptune watches in awe, unprepared for the scale of the transformation. She feels a hand slip into her hand, and another caress her cheek.

N: Wow Jupiter, that’s… bold of you
J: Shut up! Aren’t you the one showing me this?
N: I’m just giving you a stage. It’s your eversion.

As if on cue, the smoke parts, revealing a mass of half-real hands, and there, peeking out from between the fingers, Jupiter’s own eyes stare back at her.

J: …Shit
J: Ok, maybe now I kinda get it.
N: That’s a lot, coming from you.
J: Haha. Ha.

The storm grows muted and the room begins to fade. Neptune’s smile is the last thing Jupiter sees before her cockpit is flooded with warning lights and sirens and she’s thrust back into alertness, flipping switches and muttering soothing words until the Epaphus Mensa calms, and her view of the outside world is restored.

Jupiter lies in a heap of rubble that used to be the tallest building on Ares. The chunks of concrete around her are twisted into unnatural shapes. Her Ship-Self groans as it stands, and despite the lack of noticeable damage Jupiter feels like she just emerged from an intense duel. In the distance, Neptune and her Galatea are already soaring away, but scrawled on the concrete in sizzling green ichor is a message: “See you soon”

J: I’m looking forward to it. 

Text Communication Log: Mars and Venus
Mars
Princess of Cradle’s Graces. If you want to kill the future, come and take it from us!

Venus
Lighting the way for all of Earth’s unwanted children

Hey Vee
Word just came in that the Galatea is due for a test flight

How do you even test something like that?

Good question
I don’t really understand it but it sounds like it’s an opening. The focus will be more on pushing its capabilities than defense.
And we really can’t let them make any more progress
That ship is already too much.

Do you think I’ll be able to take her on?

Venus, you can do anything you set your mind to
Genuinely, you’re one of the most talented pilots I know and you’ve taken on much worse.

It’s mostly my mind that I’m worried about

Oh.
I know you two are close but… you’re really the only person I think has a chance

It’s not that, or at least, not only that
I can deal with Jupiter just fine
Neptune’s different. We’ve known each other since before the space program
And… I think I’m developing a crush

Shit. Wait, really? What changed?

The Galatea. What else?
She finally has a ship-self of her own now, and it’s a side of her I’ve never seen before.
She’s beautiful Mars.

I think I see the problem now.

I understand how dangerous that ship is. I’m not saying I won’t go after her, I’m just… worried.
For both of us.

I understand. How do you think I feel, babe?
I’m worried too
For all of us.

Chapter Text

Venus crouches on the edge of the canyon, perched with her wings folded around her. If she wasn’t carefully refracting the light around her, she might resemble a gargoyle or a ball of fluff, instead of a translucent shimmer.

Neptune resembles a sea lion, gliding through the air as if it were water, with her Ship-Self’s tiny earflaps and slick outer coating. Her flight defies momentum and aerodynamics, and Venus almost cries out when the Galatea twists and veers off to the canyon wall, only to disappear into it, leaving subtle ripples in her wake.

Of course she wouldn’t make a mistake like that. Neptune’s mistakes are deliberate, not clumsy and split-second; the sort you make when you ignore the nagging part of your brain that knows what consequences are. It’s a skill, to make those deliberate mistakes, and a desirable one too. Venus remembers a time when everything felt like a mistake, from coming out to being herself to just existing in a way that took up more than a minimum amount of space. She’s grown a lot since then, thanks in no small part to Neptune. Now she’s ready to make mistakes like provoking the earth into all-out war.

The Galatea emerges from the cliffside in a spray of dust, arcs back toward the canyon, and dives in once more. Neptune is relishing the freedom of her new body, which manages to constantly exceed her expectations without ever truly surprising her. It’s fun to flex her physical capabilities, exhilarating even, but the most important test is behind her. The Galatea allowed her to communicate in ways no human ever had before, and more importantly, Jupiter was willing to listen. That, more than anything, makes her optimistic for their future.

Still, there’s room for improvement. It took a pretty obvious trap to set up the connection. It’s a good thing the scariest girl in space is also such a dupe, or Neptune would never have made it so far. Her other rival won’t make the same mistake. Venus is too serious about her cause, and too cautious to boot; underneath her ace’s bravado Neptune can still see glimpses of the scared little girl she once knew, terrified of the slightest bit of vulnerability.

Venus crouches lower on her perch, as if positioning herself to pounce will give her the courage to do so. It’s not that the Galatea is dangerous or unpredictable—it is those things, but Venus is a seasoned pilot and Neptune’s movements are more playful than evasive; her position is getting easier to track. The problem is, Venus is worried what Neptune will think. Her oldest friend, who harbors such disdain for her latest cause, surely won’t appreciate the interruption. Her new feelings complicate things—bothering an old friend is one thing, a new crush is another. Venus closes her eyes, opens them again. She takes a deep breath and lets it out through her nose. She acknowledges the part of her that is terrified of change, terrified of asserting herself even now, of standing out and being seen. Then, politely but firmly, she hands the reins to the part of her that’s an elite pilot for a precarious rebellion. The Artemis Corona tenses up, then dives into the canyon, optical camouflage giving way to a whirl of incandescent light.

Neptune resurfaces directly into the bright, terrible arc of the Artemis Corona. The Galatea shudders with the impact, and before she can react Neptune finds herself pinned against the canyon wall. The din of Venus’s ship-self subsides, leaving behind a steady, gentle glow.

N: Venus! Just the girl I was looking for!
V: Neptune! It’s good to see you again! I—what?
The cliffside behind Neptune ripples as she dips a hand into the liquefied rock. With her other hand she grabs Venus and pulls, beckoning her inside. Venus pulls back, unwilling to follow Neptune or to let her quarry escape.
N: Come on! I’ve got something cool to show you.
V: I’m not going in there. Besides, I’m not done with you out here!
Venus pulls harder, then twists around and, for a moment, puts herself between Neptune and the canyon wall. In one practiced movement she severs the Galatea from the rock at the wrist and sends them both hurtling into the middle of the canyon. When Neptune gets her bearings she tears a poisonous scratch along the Artemis Corona’s side, before darting back to the cliffside, with Venus on her heels.
V: Get back here!

When Neptune reaches the canyon wall, Venus is there to block her path. When Venus manages to redirect her, Neptune takes a chunk out of her wing. The two pilots chase each other across the sky, losing sight of their reason for fighting amid the joy of the struggle itself, brawling and arguing and seeing each other, really seeing each other, in a way no human back on earth could imagine. Neptune revels in the mercurial power of the Galatea, escaping each time she’s cornered in a way even she couldn’t predict. Venus finds focus and comfort in the familiarity of movement, a knowledge deeper than muscle memory of how to soar with grace and strike with precision, like she was born with wings and forced to walk for far too long. She delights in the newness of her opponent, a fresh challenger to test against her veteran’s skill. Neptune marvels at her foe’s confidence, her effortless matching of each new trick or maneuver, and thinks of the awkward, cowering girl she used to know.

Swipe, dodge, feint. A reckless assault, a breathless retreat. Hard light flung across the gap. A scratch here, a dent there. Venus takes a sharp turn and finds the space she flies through has shifted. She slips on a tangle of the Galatea’s gravity and falls straight into her fist. The Artemis Corona hits the canyon wall, and a moment later Neptune is there with her claws at Venus’s throat. The Artemis Corona tilts her head in a display of smug aloofness, but Venus’s flustered reaction can’t be hidden over the comms.

V: Im—cough—Impressive! You’ve only been piloting a few days now and you’re already taking down the likes of me!
N: Venus, you and I both knew I’d kick your ass immediately if I ever got to pilot
V: I...I wouldn’t go that far.
N: Well, here we are. Also, stop looking for an opening; your insincere defeat-concession routine is even less convincing when you can’t get through a sentence without stuttering.
V: Slander! You wound me Neptune!
N: I’m about to if you keep this up. Look, I won, so just let it go already and I won’t have to stab you.

The wings of the Artemis Corona that had been peering around Neptune for an angle relax and fold back into her body.

N: Good.
V: Do you see why I fight for Cradle’s Graces now? Where else but space could we do this?
N: What, get in a fight with giant robots? I mean, I won’t say I didn’t have fun. You’re pretty great at flying that bird of yours.
V: You flatter me!
N: Huh, I guess I do. I did beat you after all. In that case you’re just an ok pilot.
V: Hey!
N: There’s more out there though, than just ship-selves. Eversion could give us bodies we can barely dream of. That’s what I was trying to show you earlier.
V: But, these are already more. Didn’t you feel it?. These aren’t just cool big robot bodies, although they are that too. They’re the new bodies we can dream of, beautiful and free and fundamentally ours. Why give up on humanity when we have that? Why retreat from the world when we can offer them such a gift?
N: We’ve been over this Venus. Earth doesn’t want our “gift.”
V: But don’t you, now that you have it? Could you imagine not wanting it, now that you have a taste?
N: …
N: Maybe not. But there’s something I want even more. Look—I can’t really put it into words. Here.

Neptune leans over to plant a gentle kiss on Venus’s forehead. For a moment Venus tenses, as if she’s preparing for a threat—or, even scarier, a display of affection. She makes herself relax, and the Galatea’s lips press lightly against the surface of her own ship-self. Meaning flows from them like a rush of clear water: people turning inside out, escaping the confines of their old selves and into a realm of literally unimaginable possibility. A brilliant assembly of wings and eyes. A form that resembles the Artemis Corona, but different, more alien. Not as different, perhaps, as Neptune intended—her scrape with Venus’s spacefaring body is fresh in her mind, and the comprehensible wonder of ship-selves bleeds in to the incomprehensible wonder of the inverse. The vision, though compromised, is beautiful—monstrous half-human bodies caught in the midpoint of eversion, an impossible living bridge between two mutually exclusive worlds. They circle each other, fighting and flirting as humans do, in ways no human ever could.

V: It’s lovely! But, it’s not what you were going for, is it? It feels… too familiar.
N: No, it’s not.
V: I guess I left quite an impression!

Venus smirks, Neptune frowns and presses her claws just a little harder against her rival’s throat.

V: Ow! Seriously though. I hope you remember this.
V: I’m proud of who I am now. I was stuck being human for a long time, and it took me awhile to get any good at it. Maybe it’s silly, but that makes me want to stay that way. To fight for others to get the chance I got.
V: Maybe you’re just braver than me. If it came down to it, and you got what you wanted, of course I’d follow you. I learned long ago not to pass up that sort of chance, thanks to you.
V: But when it comes down to it, keep in mind that there’s joy in being human too.

Text Communication Log: Neith and Neptune
Neith
aspiring slime creature

Neptune
A bitch in space on purpose. Lead researcher; Department of Sociochemistry.

God DAMN it

what? whatd I do this time?

No, it’s not you for once.
I kissed her.

Channel Closed