Luke Chmilenko
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Starbreaker: Volume 4 - Chapter 12
🕑 Added 2025-08-15 16:00:16 +0000 UTC“In so signing this contract, no sovereignty is ceded, nor rights abraded. Let it be known to all that any arrangement established by legal means can also be dissolved by such means if it is found that both parties are failing to maintain the agreement in good faith. In this matter, such good faith shall include treating the other party as if they, too, were behaving in good faith, without suspicion or undue attention given to their works and actions. Breach of this assumption of good conduct shall be considered bad conduct, and whichever party did so breach it shall be found liable for the future dissolution of this agreement and any penalties such a dissolution might impose including but not limited to damages for any insult to reputation, damages as a result of trade opportunities lost, and damages relating to any retaliatory actions taken by members of this agreement and so forth, up to but not limited to the full monetary value of all trade achieved through this agreement.”
—Thesulan Trade Deal, Draft 782
Hector took his time leading everyone else on the grand tour of the ship, taking care to keep them well clear of the cockpit as Sylvas sank into it. The others could argue over bunks, Hector could have his weapons rack of dried meats, and Kaya could salivate over the engines; Sylvas didn’t care about any part of the ship except for right here.
There was no seat amidst the controls, just a magic circle set in shining silver on the deck, connected to every piece of magic woven into the ship. From inside it, Sylvas’ consciousness expanded out to envelop the whole machine. It became his body, just as surely as his actual one did. He could feel the movement of his friends inside his corridors, he could feel the draft breezing across his hull, and he could feel all of the bound potential of this incredible vehicle just waiting for him to breathe life into it. He might have been in there for moments, or hours, and only by consulting with Mira would he have been able to know for sure.
He startled out of his reverie when Hector cleared his throat. “Sorry about the mess. Flying long distance, you end up living in here, and that means—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sylvas said so emphatically that it startled him. “A few dirty plates and forgotten slates. If it means I get this...”
“Okay. Cool. I figured that coming from the Ardent, you guys might have some funny feelings about discipline and order, and I didn’t want you to feel… out of place.”
“This ship… she’s incredible.”
Darling, I am trying very hard not to be jealous, given that the other woman in this case is made of metal, but even so, I’m feeling a little neglected here.
“Oh, yeah.” Hector seemed to have relaxed a little now that he knew nobody was going to complain about the stacks of garbage he’d left lying around his ship. “I’ve flown some real bricks over the years, but this one is a beauty.”
He paused for a moment, taking in Sylvas’ blissed-out expression. “Don’t get too used to her. Most of your life, you’re going to be flying bricks, too. And after you’re all trained up and ready to get out into the universe for yourself, I’m not giving the Folly up. Not unless you’re a lot better at cards than I think you are.”
Sylvas looked around the cockpit one last time, ignoring the accumulated filth and seeing only what was beneath that surface layer. He wet his lips. “I may have to learn how to gamble.”
Hector laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, kid, we’re all going to have some dinner and talk plans.”
He must have recognized the hesitation on Sylvas’ face. “It isn’t elvish food.”
Sylvas followed him back through the ship, trying not to stare wistfully back to the trash heap he belonged in.
The others were already sitting around the table. Kaya and Malachai sat crushed in next to each other, avoiding the spot where the footprints showed in the rug. The table wasn’t big, and the bench running around it wasn’t meant to seat four. One of the original cabinets on the other side of the corridor had been torn out and an oven retrofitted in with some very clumsy welding, and Hector had wasted no time to start stir-frying something in a pan that smelled about a hundred times more seasoned than anything else they’d endured on the planet so far. Kaya was so excited by the prospect of good food that she was entirely ignoring Malachai’s discomfort at her rubbing up against him when she bounced with excitement on the spot. Malachai had never been the biggest eater, even before encountering the delicacy of elvish cuisine, so he seemed slightly less enthused, but he was watching everything that Hector did like a hawk.
Sylvas glanced around the ship for anywhere a spare seat might have been hidden away. His gravity sense pulsed out, outlining the shapes of everything stowed away in cabinets or under the deck and uncovering no stools. He wished that he’d taken the time to load one into his cold storage at some point. Every mage he knew seemed to keep a chair with them for situations just like this.
“Hang on just a second.” Hector glanced back at Sylvas standing around awkwardly. “I’ve got a spare seat in cold storage.”
“No worries, I’m happy to grab it.” Sylvas said reflexively as he reached out with his gravity sense, spoke the brief fragment of spell, and punched through into the pocket plane where it was being kept, hauling it out from behind Hector and then sitting down. But no sooner did he so do, did he discover that the other two were staring at him as if he’d just grown another head.
And so apparently was Hector, the man having stopped cooking and turned completely until he was staring at him, too.
Darling, you are aware that usually only the mage who placed an object in cold storage can retrieve it since the nuances of each pocket dimension are so minute and impossible to detect that nobody else can access them.
“Oh.” Sylvas sat still for a moment, trying to work out what to say. “Sorry?”
Hector just shook his head and turned back to the food. “Full of surprises.”
“Since when can you do that?” Kaya asked immediately.
“I uh…” It hadn’t ever occurred to him to try before, so it was entirely possible he could have done it all along. “Not sure.”
“It is nice to know that there will be literally no privacy in my life, even in the sacrosanct chamber of my cold storage.” Malachai sighed.
“You’ll get used to rooming with other people,” Kaya tried to comfort him.
Sylvas wished he could give the man accustomed to the finer things in life some advice to make the transition easier, but he preferred not to lie. “Actually, Kaya, your snoring is just so loud it drowns out everyone else, so you never hear them. Everyone else has a hard time adjusting. To the ear-splitting snoring. That is your constant companion.”
Hector’s shoulders were going up and down, but he was managing to contain his laughter while his back was turned.
“Oi, stanzbuhr! You never heard me complaining about your weird nighttime habits when we were sleeping together.” She sounded annoyed, but there was a hint of a smile on her face that made it clear she was having fun.
Malachai’s mouth opened and shut as he thought better of asking the question on his mind.
Sylvas tried to keep a straight face. “And what exactly did I do in my sleep that could compare to the asteroid mining operation that you conduct with your sinuses each night?”
“I’ve never met a man or dwarf who rolls over as much as you. You sleep like you’re rolling down a hill.”
Sylvas wanted to argue with that but, realized that he couldn’t. “I… don’t know if that’s true since I’m asleep.”
“And the farts, stanzbuhr, the farts. All day long you’re so uptight, they have to sneak out while you’re sleeping. That’s why I needed the bottom bunk, so they couldn’t rise up and get me.”
Sylvas’ sense of humor was reaching its limit. “Okay, I’m certain that one isn’t true.”
Malachai tipped his head to the side as if in thought. “I cannot recall ever hearing you passing wind while conscious.”
Hector turned around with a little flourish, bringing over the still-sizzling pan and resting it on a folded-over dish towel atop the table. “I’m starting to regret making a curry now.”
It was a near-luminous orange color, and the aromas drifting out from it spoke to spices that Sylvas had never even known existed before now. They ate in what Kaya insisted was the proper way, tearing off little bits of flatbread and using them to pinch some curry between it and ferry it to their mouths. Apparently, that was right because Hector didn’t disagree, but it certainly involved less cutlery than he was accustomed to. The curry was consumed in a flurry to begin with, the only pauses being for animal noises of appreciation, then as the initial hunger passed and conversation began to pick up.
“Hector,” Kaya began.
He swallowed his mouthful of food. “Yes?”
“Marry me.”
He choked on his bread, forced it down, and then flashed her that same wolfish smile as before. “Maybe a few more dinners together first?”
“If they all taste this good, it won’t take many.” Kaya grinned, showing her orange-stained teeth.
Malachai was not smiling. His face was deathly serious as he met Hector’s gaze. “I cannot offer you love or marriage, but whatever the Empyrean pays you for your thankless tasks, my family will match if you come and work as our personal chef.”
Hector turned to look at Sylvas, “Any counter-proposals?”
Sylvas chuckled. “The food is very good, but I don’t think I can afford you.”
Hector leaned back in his seat, still grinning. “I guess you kids are looking forward to getting out there into the universe after being grounded for so long.”
Kaya nodded vigorously. “Planet gravity just feels wrong.”
“It has been too long since I have travelled the stars.” Malachai tilted his head, presumably in agreement.
They all looked to Sylvas, who shrugged. “It’s pretty much my first time. I went straight from home to Strife and slept through the journey here. The only time I’ve been in space has been back and forth to the citadels.”
“Then you’re in for a treat,” Hector replied with a grin that Sylvas couldn’t help but find just a little predatory.
