Here is number 1 of my macro story, starring Gaia.

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I was alone in space.


In a way that wasn’t so bad to wake up to. The limitless void greeted my vision, thousands of stars weaving a tapestry of light and colour on a scale beyond comprehension. Space is god-damn beautiful and I’ll fight anyone who says the view is cliche. Admittedly, I’d lose, but the point stands.


For now I was treated to a binary star system. Gold and silver suns spiralled together like the first dance at a wedding. Orange and purple planets, likely barren and burning, flickered in their light before an asteroid belt, and further shining orbs paced the way to a colossal teal and blue gas giant, wrapped in an X of rings. IIt looked absolutely magical, even if I knew it was likely the result of some moon interfering and splitting the orbit of ice and frost.


Speaking of, where was my ice?


I remembered the hustle to get into Cryo-Sleep before the wormhole jump. The klaxons and sirens counting down. Blushing pacing through the public showers of the ship, hurriedly purified and then sonic-bladed dry amidst crowds of dozens. Then crammed into the pod, the sting of anaesthetic, the creeping sensation of frost and sleep.


Then what?


Were my plants okay?


Where was I?


I felt tight, cramped, my limbs twisted close. In an escape pod? No, our pods were five-man deals. I was alone in space, facing its both beauty and horror.


“HELP!” I screamed, hearing some connection flare to life. The ship was somewhere nearby, surely? “Uh, MAYDAY, MAYDAY, MAYDAY this is Cadet Nico Garcia, calling on any Terran Conglomeracy Ships. MAYDAY, I am jettison in space, I cannot see any coordinates, currently in binary Semtos System. Please respond!”


Static played in my ears, electronic tones and beeps like from the most urban-recycled hardware band, the kind that used only old consoles as their instruments. I cringed, and winced as my arms brushed against nothingness.


“I repeat, MAYDAY, I may be… jettison in a suit, not a pod. Situation unclear. Hesitant to move. This is Cadet Garcia, calling on any Terran Conglomeracy Ships in the Semtos System, please Respond!”



—

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Semtos System
Terran Conglomeracy Ship- GTS Gaia
Bridge Crew Cryo-Bay
Local Time: 3074-3-27-14:07


Whirling crimson lights screamed throughout dense metallic corridors, their hexagonal gravity-inductor floors shimmering like red-hot coals. As the banshee song wailed, steam hissed in great clouds as coffin-like pods opened to disgorge coughing, retching figures.


Captain Morrow hit the floor hard, permitting himself thirty seconds of weakness. His scarred form sobbed, sniffed and wept as if freshly risen from the dead. Then he reached over, retrieved the crimson-banded mechanical arm, and clumsily attached it to the stump of his right shoulder. Phantom nerves aligned with mechanical neural-wires, and the artificial arm rotated, rolled and righted himself with familiar motions.


“Mainframe, status, what is the source of the alarm?” His deep brusque voice came after but a cough as he removed another scarlet and silver prosthesis. This one clicked into position with more ease on his right hip, guided by both hands, and he stood up, tongue clicking. “Mainframe, status, on authority of Captain Samuel Morrow of the Terran Conglomeracy, Galactic Terraforming Ship, Gaia. Respond.”


No response. He pulled on a jumpsuit. No response. Cinched his belt and eyed the corridor 100 seconds after awakening.


Some three dozen officers in various states of dress met his gaze, a couple modified with stretching tails or twitching ears discarding the dew of cryo-sleep. That much was good- he did not permit modifications that would impede performance.


“The situation is unclear. All forces switch to emergency channel. Liutenants Mirnoff, Jones and Arkwell, lead vanguard squadrons to the Reactor, Port and Starboard Eco-domes. Take note of situation, and respond.”


At his words, a freckly shaved woman, bulky older man, and a snake-like modified nodded, saluted their left hands to their chins, and set to moving, still pulling on belts and clothes.


“Commander Yervon, awaken the entire crew, then send additional reinforcement squadrons to those areas.”


The young woman blinked, her olive skin patterned by crimson tattoos of some great trade house, “All of them sir? But it might be a false alarm?”


“If it is, then they should be up for our approach. If not, then we need them.” Morrow snapped, “Commander Vana, take your squadron and Liutenant Jetson to the Cervical Mainframe, analyse our mainframe problems. The rest of you, with me to the Bridge.”


Bare feet padded and switched to booted stomps mid stride as his orders took hold. Morrow kept his spine straight, biting back a moment’s hesitation as he dropped his right boot forwards. He didn’t need it, his prosthetic foot was immune to as many hazards as the plasford was. But it wouldn’t do for the captain to walk around in only one shoe. He kept his scarred face set as he arched his right side to pull the boot on, felt the familiar agony of old wounds, and kept walking.


Ahead, thankfully the warp-gate was still functional, cutting down their journey to bridge from miles of elevators and tunnels, to a single electrifying step.


“-CIA, CALLING ON ANY TERRAN CONGLOMERACY SHIPS IN THE SEMTOS SYSTEM, PLEASE RESPOND!”


—

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“This is Captain Samuel Morrow of the GTS Gaia. We are in the Semtos System currently. Are you receiving, Cadet?”


I slightly screamed. I’m not sure what I’d been expecting, maybe a lieutenant, or just an ensign, handling minor duties like a misplaced botanist. Certainly not a captain though, and not the hero who commanded the entire thirty mile long terraformer.


“Cadet? Garcia, come in.”


“Ah- I’m here. Sir. Captain.” I squeaked, almost vibrating with my nerves. “R-reporting.”


“Receiving. Connection secured.” He had a slight rasp to his voice, lending his words a little growl like a bear. “Activating scanners. We’ll find you soon enough Cadet. How did you find your way off the ship? Can you remember?”


“Uh… no, no. I was in cryo-sleep, then I was… uh, then, then I’m here.” I hesitated almost oversharing. But no, this was a military man, it was best to be concise. “I can see the binary stars, the inner planets, the belt, the gas giant with two rings, it’s definitely the Semtos System, sir.”


His response took a longer moment. I swallowed, trying not to cry, though whether out of relief or fear I couldn’t really say. It was all too much.


“Which cryo-pod? Could be a warp-gate malfunction. We’ve hit some mainframe problems since coming out of the wormhole.”


“Starboard, Agri-Floor 7, 47. SA747.” I mumbled.


“Copied. Can you see the ship? What is your situation, Cadet?”


“I… uh…” My fingers stretched inside my gloves, my legs shifting, even pulled up close almost fetally. “I… think I’m in an EV-Suit, but I’m not familiar with the model. It’s got lots of… metal to it, and thrusters, but it… it’s just me and nothing.”


I swallowed, then gingerly tried to twist, throwing my arms out as the universe span around me, the twin suns hurtling around behind before some blast of fire from the thrusters on my arm stabilised me. Behind was… emptiness. Glorious, perfect oblivion, sprawling out towards the yawning unvisible gulf of the wormhole, distant beyond the system.



“Sir… I… I can’t see the ship.”



—

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Semtos System
Terran Conglomeracy Ship- GTS Gaia
Primary Command Bridge
Local Time: 3074-3-27-14:21


“BRIDGER, FIGURE OUT WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THE SPRINKLERS!”


The command deck of the GTS Gaia was a grand, multi-storey affair, large enough to fit a house inside. Consoles relating to every department of the macro-vessel, from manufacture, power, gravity- inducement, navigation, to agriculture, research and medical were arrayed in a horse-shoe auditorium, before the gigantic viewscreen. In the centre rested the Primary Motor Interface, its many clamps and sensors holding a struggling, spinning Liutenant Dresh, gyroscopic rings whirling him around. Captain Morrow preferred to stand one floor above, facing not the screen of roaming stars, but his workforce. His crew.


They were cold. They were groggy. They were soaking wet with neutralising agent from whatever kept causing the sprinklers to go off. But they were hard at work.


Despite everything, Morrow felt a grim smile creep across his face. Of course the first true day of the mission would come with insane challenge. And of course his crew, even the babbling girl somehow lost outside, would meet it with appropriate rigour, as they would every challenge from here on out.


Pings in his communicator came sequentially- no sign of external threats, Reactor secured, the colonist cadets of the Eco-Domes were safe. Other aspects were of more interest.


“Jetson, any progress with our IT problems?” He called first.


“It’s bloody chaos!” The older man wheezed over the comms, a panicked excitement in his words. “Mainframe’s completely haywire- stable though, racing at new highs. It’s almost an upgrade, but… neural nets ain’t anywhere like what they were. The whole underlying programming of the mainframe’s been rewritten in lingo I don’t speak.”


Morrow paused. “AI?”


“Not quite- it’s all mechanical focussed, no simulated worlds or red flags. Just not hooked up to our usual command protocols.”


“That won’t do. Which is faster, getting a jury-rig together for our protocols, or down-grading the system?”


“Oh, jury-rig, by a fucking mile, sir. You’re asking me to build a bridge or fill in the grand canyon, it’s not even compar-”


“Do so then. Commander Vana, use him to check on security footage for CryoPod SA747, we’ve got a young woman lost out there somehow. I want to know if it’s related.” Morrow ordered, then switched channels. “Lieutenant Arkwell, come in. Has your team reached position?”


“Almost sssssir, we’ve got sssssomething at their cabin…” The snake-mod managed to restrain themselves from hissing most of the time in a professional context. The Captain braced himself for bad news, only to flinch at a cry from below.


The mohawked Liutenant Dresh was spinning madly in the Primary Motor Interface, whipping around like a top inside the cradle’s receiver loops. Predictably, on screen the universe was turning as the ship likewise barrel-rolled, an event the Mainframe would normally assist in preventing. If they had it online.


“Get him out- Ophina, you’re next.” He chose a decent pilot, a hefty woman with a dripping wet afro. If he recalled, she’d managed a solid 79% synchronisation rate with the Interface in practice, a high bar when the record for synchronisation control was only 83%.


“Ah- uh, but sir, he’s got 100% Sync.” Ophina gasped, lingering at the emergency stop button.


“NOOOOO I DOOOOO NOOOOOT!” Dresh wailed, arms flapping madly as the ship stabilised. “Gemme out, gemme out!”


“Mainframe’s down, that reading’s incorrect. Replace him.” Morrow instructed, before turning back, hand to his ear. “Sorry, Arkwell. Cadet Garcia’s cabin, any sign of her?”


“Uh, he’sss been sleepwalking, sir.” The reptilian whisper slipped through his mind. “Footprintssss. Botany. Plantsss tended. Must’ve been up at least two or three times to care for them.”


“What!?” Morrow’s metallic arm produced a harsh clang as he slammed his hands on the console, the veins of his temple bulging with rage. “That bumbling little- do Wormholes mean nothing to these people!? It’s a miracle she survived to get lost i-”


“He’s dead.” Arkwell cut through, voice hollow. “Body’s in the Cryopod.”


“The… wait, him?” The Captain disliked hesitating. But something was off. He tapped open the other emergency channel. “Cadet, state your rank and title.”


“Colonist C-cadet Nico Garcia, Botanist, GSA747,” came the young, panicked woman’s voice.


“Colonissst Cadet Nico Garcia, Botanist, GSA747.” pronounced Arkwell, unheard, “Looks like organ failure, and… some Mainframe CPR attempt. There’s additional headgear on him too. All frozen for 31 hours.”


“Captain, sensors are turning out no sign of the overboard.” Came another report. Then another. “No radio signals were received except for our scouts on planet 4-2.”


“Hold it still, Dresh, I can’t get in if the harness is moving!” Ophina snapped from below.


“Captain?” That young woman’s voice in his ear still came through as an SOS. Morrow tensed, breathing heavily as his mind considered the facts. Was it a prank- no, sabotage- from within the ship then? Possibly. Then why the voice- a modulator? No, it was more familiar than that. The same base data-packet used to voice Mainframe announcements. He’d not recognized it half buried beneath fearful tones and unprofessionalism.


“One moment, Cadet.” He switched again, “Commander Vana, can you ask Jettson what the primary functions of the Mainframe during the Wormhole Jump were?”


“Yes sir. To maintain a safe course for Semtos System, Planet 4-2. And to preserve human life.” She swallowed, audible over the link, “Sir, this new programming it has… weird additions to it. Emotional cores.”


“Yes, I’m aware.” The man stood, feeling the weight of the limbs on his stumps, and the weight of a life on his shoulders. He needed to lean on the console. “Commander Vana, make your way to the Bridge.”


“Come in, Cadet Garcia, I need you to-”


—

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“-look at your hand for me.”


I’d managed to stop spinning. It took some getting used to, this horrible weightlessness, the confusing sensations of zero gravity. I’d not set out to be an astronaut- but with new frontiers out there, and the chance to make worlds green and beautiful, where could I have gone but space?


My hand was unrecognisable, clad in so much dark and teal metal, thrusters built into the arm and palm. I flexed it, appreciating that at least my gloves were flexible enough to move each finger dexterously, even if all this bulky armour was cumbersome.


“Is that alright, Captain?” He had to be busy, the ship would be preparing for landing- or had it already landed? You’d think a thirty mile colony ship would be visible out in the nothingness of space. But then, space was insanely big. It made me nervous.


“Ah, greetings, Cadet Garcia.” A new voice, this one female with a slight sandy note to it, like beaches and sunshine. “This is Commander Vana, we’re going to he-”


I may have screamed.


Definitely. I definitely screamed.


Morrow was one thing, but Vana is THE VANA. Girl uncovered the safe route through the wormhole, did four round trips in 24 hours. She held the record for the Portwell Ring Race when I was in college. And I definitely screamed at her.


“Ah, I’m sorry, Commander, I just… uh, you’re, kind of a legend. Commander.”


“Right. Well. Consider this a little flying lesson from a legend. We’ve got the…” Her voice lingered, like an uncertain pur, “The specs for your suit. You’ve got enough capabilities to make planetfall on 4-2, and then we’ll revvvvv- rendezvous with you. But we just need to get you down safely, first, alright G?”


G? I had a nickname from a legend? My heart rumbled and flared in my chest, and I swallowed. “Uh, couldn’t… a shuttle just come? So I don’t di… damage the suit?”


Commander Vana, the Devil of Portwell Ring Station, had a cute laugh. There was a little snort to it. But it was still a no, and green leading-lines appeared in my HUD, guiding me in a long, shallow curve of several light minutes towards the dusty orange planet beyond the asteroid belt. Then she set about instructing me to hunker down low, find the controls for the thrusters and engage them to full, sending me forth like a comet wobbling and juddering along the designated trajectory.


I’m not sure how I didn’t throw up. This suit had to be top of the line, it was essentially a close-fitting Stinger Craft, and capable of jotting between planets of a system in a matter of hours. Maybe it was the life-support systems that helped with the G-forces involved, or maybe having Commander Vana in my ear, holding my hand, was enough.


“Alright, half an hour out, so we’re going to want to slow down now- this is a little tricky.” She admitted, once the great amber planet loomed large in my vision. “This equipment is designed to land on your feet- thrusters cancel out the impact, so we’re going to need to spin you around, okay G?”


“I… I won’t be able to see?”


“Nope. Don’t worry, our navigational computer’s back online, so we’ll handle that, you just need to listen closely. You ever seen those statues of that ancient superman deity? No? Well, it’s a dated reference. Uh, you need to get your arms forwards, as if you’re swimming.”


That was simple. Squaring my shoulders and then bringing my arms in an X shape together, just above my field of view, was easy enough too. Angling my wrists and adjusting the flow of every thruster to spin myself around without affecting my trajectory? That was hard. I over did it by ten degrees, which meant shifting my arms and releasing a counter repulsive blast- then doing the same for an even smaller, gentler sum.


“Okay, G, you’re lined up now,” Commander Vana sighed, and suddenly her camera appeared in my HUD, large enough to block out the star-lined edge of the planet. She was a stellar human, probably born out on some nebula colony- tan dusky skin with silver freckles, red-purple eyes as if locked on mine, white hair tied back yet slightly wet for some reason. “Now, imagine you’re on parade- hands down by your hips, legs straight, all thrusters pointed down, full power.”


The flaps and panels of the suit got in the way slightly, but I obeyed, heart flaring. A bead of sweat trickled down her brow in the barely transparent projection, and I took that as a win- she was nervous for me! Oh god she was nervous for me. As were about twenty or so less distinct figures peering over her shoulders.


“Okay, full power? I’m not just going to blast off, am I?”


“No, no, you’ve got too much momentum, just got to stay like this, alright?”


“It’s getting hot,” I murmured, trying to ignore the spreading warmth. Sparks like fireworks crackled on either side of my vision, behind the projection.


“That’s normal re-entry. It will be less than on most planets, 4-2 here doesn’t really have much atmosphere.” Vana flushed slightly, one incisor peeking out as she bit her lip. “Full power, G, don’t let up.”


“I know!” But I still had to push at my thrusters more, the rumbling roar becoming suddenly audible to me. Heat screamed at my sides, the void desperate to hold me back as fire licked around me in a towering pillar.


“Almost there- Seventy miles. Ten. Nine. Eight…”


Terror clutched me. I wanted to look. To peer down. To see the ground. To see if she was right.


“Seven. Six. Five. Four…”


I screwed my eyes closed. I hung onto every button, every lever for power. My skin felt molten.


“Three. Two. O-”


BOOM


I’ve heard spaceships take off. I’ve seen sonic booms. I’ve seen stellar booms that shatter the very visual spectrum when big ships go FTL. You’re not meant to look, but there’s colours in the cracks you can’t see anywhere else. Those noises you hear with your entire body, from the hair on your head to the soles of your feet.


I’ve never heard a noise like when my feet hit the planet. I expected to stagger, or shatter, or turn to liquid entirely disassembled by the sonic reverberations. But instead, I… landed. Burning, boiling, scorched and roasting. But my legs stayed basically straight, and I stayed standing. I burst into tears.


Vana was crying too, as her video-screen shrank down to a corner of my vision, and the bridge was screaming and celebrating, and the sprinklers were going off for some reason.


I didn’t care. It was too hot. I reached up and pulled off one gauntlet, then other. Panels of the suit tumbled away from my back as it unhooked from my neck and split open. They landed on the planet with a glassy crunch, and remained standing near waist height. I flexed my legs and kicked my feet free of the burning thruster boots, shrugged off a set of pauldrons and a hip-section, and then staggered forward, my arms windmilling through the dust and smoke.


“Vana? Commander Vana?” I called out, my visor rising up out of view, and with it the HUD of the bridge. My voice sounded strange. “I’m here, I landed, I survived.”


“Right, that’s good, G, just stay put a moment, hold on, we need to…”


My first steps on a new world crunched, cracked and tinkled. I flapped and waved my arms, partly to stim from the stress, partly to try and cool down. The smoke and dust were clearing slowly, revealing… very little. Well, of course, this was a barren world fit for terraforming, there wasn’t really anything to see. It was crazy that the horizon was all so low and flat though.


My next steps crunched too. The ground was like glass, reforged and glittering from my landing thrusters. I looked down.


A colossal armoured body filled my vision. They had to be modified, which didn’t make sense, because I wasn’t modified. I’d never gone through with it. But there was no way that any undersuit could give a figure like that- thighs like tree trunks, hips with a wide gap, chunky legs down to tiny slender feet. A slender waist rose up to a chest crowned by two large sparkling orbs, shutters unfolding around them. My arm shifted towards them, still with five fingers of course, but no longer resembling gloves- the digits were too slender, too complex and blocky all at once, to be flesh. From what I could see of my reflection, the head was horned, with long twintails hanging down behind large ears, and five gleaming blue eyes stared out.


“THIS IS A MOMENTOUS DAY- GAIA HAS LANDED! WE MADE IT!” someone was screaming in the back of the bridge.


“Commander?” I mumbled, wondering why my voice sounded so feminine. “Where’s the ship?”