One tiny little chip, tossed in the grass. Celebrations long past. Good-byes exchanged among battle-worn friends.  

The ground does not grow cold to their memories. It cries out for them, foreign soil intruding, tunnels from here to there carrying hope and danger.  

Andonia turns its face to a darker day.

Atrium steered towards the forest in the distance. It was beyond the mountain range of his home town and he'd walked there by foot all his life. This was the first time he would get a chance to see it from above.  

He'd spent the past eight months collecting the components and building this craft, and today it finally came together. Excitement pulsed through him when the vehicle first rose into the air. Success at the first attempt!  

Now the Torneum Lake was passing below him. He could make out the forest in the distance.  

He glanced down to get his bearings. By foot, he would always follow the river. The lake had passed by and now there was nothing but meadows and sparse trees. Where had the river gone?  

Nervously, Atrium looked over the other side. Perhaps he had missed it. No... it was all wrong. He was somewhere else.  

Turning around, he headed back for the lake. It quickly neared. But where the river should exit, he saw nothing but rock formations and sporadic trees.  

"Things sure do look different from above," thought Atrium. "Better get lower to find it."  

He brought the craft within meters of the ground, slowing. Zipping about the perimeter of the familiar lake, he was baffled. Not a trace nor evidence of any kind of river. No exit for the water. A feature deeply entrenched in his childhood wiped clean.  

"But... how can this be?" exclaimed Atrium aloud.  

Suddenly forgetting the trip to the forest, he alighted and raced for home.

The nest, bring it back to the nest! Urgent thoughts pulled at her mind. Return!  

The silver cord tugged insistently, but the path to follow it lead to nothingness.  

Beneath her curled form glowed a brilliant sphere. It warmed her back, while the other side of her froze in the purest night. The sound of the others grew faint. Nothing was familiar.  

Then the cord snapped. She cried out, but no sound came forth. Her legs kicked wildly, but they had nothing to move against.  

She was alone. All she possessed was the strange disc she had found for her nest. Regret at taking it consumed her.  

Alone.

Cold frozen night,  

Wind of light,  

Latched on metal skin,  

Riding the black sea.

The doors sealed behind them, latching shut heavily. Decimeters of metal embraced them on all sides. Panels lit up, animated vectors dancing across their surfaces. Minimal controls smoothly reclined, ready for use.  

One by one, the crew took their seats. Navigator, doctor, and captain. Passengers secured in rear, ready for the first voyage.  

Placing paw to panel, Cat pushed the power ponderously. The groan of the engines grew. A familiar nervous groan came from behind the thick door. Stickman turned in his chair to call back, "Don't worry Rion! Just normal exploding noises!"  

Cat smirked at the silly sihouette and tapped the touch screen to his side, verifying everything was ready for launch. Behind him rasped Ewansa, quietly monitoring the safety systems.  

"Is everyone secured in back?" called Cat over the internal communications systems. A visual monitor confirmed the crew were all belted in. "Preparing for launch!"  

"Hey, who's taking care of your kid, Ewansa?" asked Stickman over the growing roar of the thrusters.  

The helmeted head turned to look at Stickman through reflective eyes and pointed to the rear balefully. Through the helm's vents it voiced, "Riiioonsss insiiide, waaatchesssss." Stickman nodded and returned to his console.  

"You are cleared for take-off, Vorascha One. Be safe and stay in touch," reported Andonian Launch Command.  

"Aye," confirmed Cat, and pushed the thrusters, lifting the vessel cleanly off the launch pad.  

The nose of the ship gleamed in the sunlight, the engines pushing it skyward. Into space flew the crew of the Vorascha, leaving behind the planet of Andonia, to cross the cold for home.

The sound of tinkling glass echoed throughout the cavern. Hundreds of workers toiled at the shining crystal walls, splitting the perfect surface into irregular chunks to be carted away for processing. These were the Shimmering Mines.  

Far in the distance a great roar approached. The next loading vessel was landing. Larger than most Andonian battle cruisers, the mining transport was equipped to move five cubic kilometers of mined crystals. The workers paid little heed to the thundering sounds from above. Their chisels continued to shatter apart the pristine surfaces.  

Above ground, the pilot of the transport disembarked for a break while the ship was loaded. Keta was tired, it was his fifth run today and he'd been doing the same thing day after day for the past nine months. But it kept him from his thoughts, gave him a safe life. He watched the robotics manage the cargo bins into the holding bay.  

Gradually, Keta felt a growing sense of uneasiness. There was something wrong. Walking briskly to the ground-based control station, he pushed the emergency shutdown button. The massive loading robots ceased their movement, coming to rest. A klaxon began, signalling the shutdown. Within the mine the sound of chiselling came to an irregular stop. Keta stared carefully at the ground.  

All the while the earth had moved and shuddered with the movement of the massive loading robots as they lifted fully weighted cargo bins into the ship. Everyone was used to the vibrations this caused. But now with everything stopped, Keta could still feel the dirt beneath his feet shaking.  

Looking down the mine shaft, the scarred captain winced at the sound of cracking crystal. Grabbing the microphone, he yelled, his voice echoing through the mine, "EVERYONE GET OUT OF THERE! EVACUATE THE MINE!"  

A confused pause, then a disorganised rush towards the upper levels as the workers realised something unusual was happening.  

Keta slowly backed away, towards the ship. As his lift raised him back into the body of his vessel, he watched as the crystal that filled the mines slowly transformed into rough dark rock, like a sea of night pouring over it.  

The engines started up for lift-off.

"Avast!" cried Squixander, brandishing a white squid and cross-bones flag.  

Inkyle pointed towards the port side alarmed, "Captain! Wheel overboard!"  

Mother octopus laughed at the pair of pirates with her third scalliwag suckered atop her head.  

"Doesn't that look like fun, Entacla? When you grow up, maybe you'll be a giant squid!"  

Entacla gazed down at her mother with glazed eyes. She sucked on her pacifier and stared at the waving pirate flag and wobbly wheeled box.  

"Hey mom! Look at us! We're crewmembers of the Venture!", cried Squixander.  

"Oh, is that what you are? I thought you were pirates," smiled mother octopus.  

"I'm Visch!" exclaimed Inkyle proudly.  

"And I'm Keta!" yelled Squixander, pushing Inkyle aside.  

"Who is Entacla?" asked mother.  

The two boys considered a moment. "She can be Doctor Xecia. Ha ha! She's craaaazy!"  

"That's not a very nice thing to say, Squixander," scolded mother. "All the members of the Venture are to be respected, even if they're having some difficulties nowadays. You boys play nice. It's almost supper."  

"We just need to explore one more vortex, mom!" cried Squixander.