Chap 4: Galactica Platform

Amidst the organized chaos, Dawnmarie reveled in the excitement, her comings and goings echoing through the house as she assisted where she could. Night fell and rose again with the rapidity of flashing starlight, marking time in a relentless, unyielding march. Yet, even as the days sped by, the anticipation of our journey to Whitehawk space station, a beacon of exploration and discovery, remained a constant, glowing as brightly as our twin suns.

Although he had no choice in the matter of what we would be doing with our life we gladly faced it with excitement. In the society we inhabit, the ancient tradition of the Houses holds sway, determining our destinies from the moment we are born. The heads of our respective Houses—be they from the illustrious Vega House of Navigation or the mysterious Orion House of Knowledge—foresee the paths we are bound to traverse. Our futures, like the galaxies we traverse, are vast expanses of uncharted potential, yet the Houses provide a compass by which we navigate this infinite unknown.

With the Twin suns as our only light, our mother, her face a picture of brave tranquility, took our hands and looked deep into our eyes.

"Remember," said Priscilla of the Lockheart House, her voice steady despite the emotion gleaming in her eyes, "You carry the legacy of the Lockheart House with you. The universe is vast and uncharted, but do not let fear guide you. Let your courage and curiosity lead the way."

Our father, a man of few words but deep emotions, stepped forward, his eyes twinkling with unshed tears. Holding us close, he whispered, "In the face of adversity, remember the strength you possess. You are not alone in this journey. The spirit of our ancestors, the valor of countless Lockhearts will be with you."

The air was thick with goodbyes that were never spoken aloud, filled with silent prayers and wishes, heartfelt emotions and unspoken promises. This was not a farewell, but a stepping stone in the grand journey of exploration and discovery, a testament of love that spanned across galaxies and transcended the boundaries of time and space.

As our departure time drew nearer, our parents stood in the stark, silent beauty of our homeworld, the twin suns setting behind them casting long, glowing shadows. With an air of solemnity, they handed us an ancient compass passed down through generations, a symbol of our ancestry and legacy. The cold metal warmed in our hands, an affirmation of the journey ahead.

The goodbyes were heartfelt, teetering on the fine line between joy and sorrow. We embraced the contours of our bodies imprinting a memory more profound than any photograph. We anchored ourselves in the moment, etching the sensation of their touch, their scent, their warmth into our beings.

As we prepared for our impending departure, their faces etched in our minds, we carried with us not just their good wishes, but the essence of our familial love. As we took one last glance at them, their hands waving us off, their smiles radiant under the starlight, we understood that no matter how far we ventured, we would always be tethered to this moment, to this feeling, to them. No expanse of the universe could ever diminish the love that bound us, the love that propelled us towards our destiny to the Whitehawk space station, a flurry of activity enveloped us.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows and bathing the planet in a soft, golden twilight, we solemnly performed the last vestiges of our duties. The members of the Lockheart House that had once been our sanctuary were now merely an empty shell, the laughter and love of our Family Units echoing in the silence. We said our goodbyes, each word a poignant reminder of the ties that bound us to our past.

As the stars began to twinkle in the twilight, the familiar constellations watching over us, we boarded the shuttle that night. The hum of the engine was a gentle lullaby, a comforting promise of the adventures that awaited us in the unknown expanse of space. Our future, guided by the Houses and the stars, was about to unfold.

We waited alongside a few hundred other students at the Galactica Platform while they directed us to the space shuttle. During our flight to the Whitehawk Space Colony, we met a few other girls who told us about their experience at the Space Colony the previous year.

The two young ladies, representatives of Brutus and Magnus Houses respectively, carried the unmistakable aura of those destined for roles of authority and security. The Brutus House, known for its emphasis on physical prowess and strategic acumen, and the Magnus House, renowned for its rigorous training in conflict resolution and threat neutralization, primed their members for military and security roles onboard the Whitehawk Space Colony.

Their tales of the Space Colony experience were an intricate tapestry of exhilaration and challenge. Last year, the Whitehawk Colony had embarked on an ambitious journey, leaving its customary orbit to relocate near the Proxima Centauri star system. The change in location had brought about a plethora of new interactions, discoveries, and experiences, fostering a fresh outlook on their training and development.

Amidst these new experiences and challenges, a bond of camaraderie was forged. The young ladies from the Brutus and Magnus Houses became fast friends, their mutual respect and shared experiences forming the foundation of a deep, enduring friendship. Over the course of the year, they navigated the unforeseen intricacies of life in the Colony together, their bond strengthening with each passing day.