This is a standalone story set in the universe of Orbital Night. You don’t need to read any of the other stories to follow this one, but if you are curious, check out Orbital Night and The Probability Salvage.
Welcome to Earth, Brooklyn to be exact. About 200 years before the events aboard the Mélusine and the Bastion. It’s a special day today… at least for some people.
Technical notes and translations at the end.
The birds knew it; spring was here. Their frivolous song rose over the beats of a bongo band, and the screeching of playing children on Pier 18 in Brooklyn Bridge Park.
What they didn’t know, was that this spring day would be different than any other. Today would be the day that the people of The Known Systems would welcome the pilgrims of the Chuntian back to the galactic stage.
---
“Are we going to see the fireworks tonight, Dad?”
Alexandre broke his gaze and turned toward his youngest son. “Of course, Emile, but only if ehm... if your homework for school is done.”
The 6-year-old smirked, lost interest, and chased his sister who’d stolen his ball.
“You are the one who’s going to explain the concept of severe emotional trauma to him at the fireworks party.”
“What?”
“How do you think they’ll react when everyone on that rust bucket inevitably realizes what happened?”
“Come on, Estelle, it’s the biggest celebr...”
“Celebration? Those early missions were a waste of resources, nothing more.”
“Where is your sense of adventure?”
“Adventure? Let’s hope those pilgrims appreciate your sense of adventure when their useless... what did they use to call it?”
“Dollars.”
“Right, dollars for the Chuntian. When their dollars are rejected at the food market.”
“What’s a Chun-tee-yan, Mom?”
“Oh, baby, didn’t see you there. Dad, do you want to tell him the story?”
---
About 4.24 light-years from Brooklyn Bridge Park and after 141 years of cruising the galactic void, the Chuntian completed its deceleration maneuver exactly as planned and entered a stable high orbit around Proxima Centauri b.
---
Nestor opened his eyes. It took a few minutes before his eyes adjusted and the blurry haze thinned to reveal a white sterile room.
The touch of his feet landing softly on the cold floor brought him a little closer to awake. He ever so slowly pushed off and floated toward the viewport. Proxima Centauri’s rise over the port bow filled the room with a dim red hue.
A smile painted across Nestor’s face and he chuckled… "We made it. Victory, victory for human ingenuity and resili…”
“Welcome back!”
The voice was unexpected; he was supposed to be the first to awaken. The panic came soon, delayed by the cryofluid in his veins. Nestor looked at his fingers, there was no restraint sleeve, nor wires or tubes, no cryopod at all. He remembered the launch deck, the hymn, his cousin pressing two fingers to the glass before the frost took her face away, but getting out of the pod was a blurry haze.
“What happened? Did the launch fail?”
“No, you made it. Congratulations. You are the first of the pilgrims to wake up after the long trip.”
“But… why… who are you?” Nestor grabbed his forehead.
“Lay back down, Nestor. Those old cryopods cause a nasty hang…”
“Old?” Nestor grunted.
The voice did not answer immediately, then said “Please remain calm. Disorientation is expected.” It seemed to come from everywhere at once; soft, but bodiless.
A shadow moved across the floor behind him, or maybe it was only the red light shifting through the viewport. Nestor frowned and turned his head too quickly. Pain pulsed behind his eyes.
Nestor reached for the rail along the wall and pulled himself toward the door. His fingers trembled around the metal, but the movement helped him focus. The door opened automatically with a hiss. There were no warning tones, no arrival hymn, not any Chuntian signal he remembered. Just music, faint, and cheerful, humming through the hallway.
“Hmmpf.” He held his head and clenched his teeth until the worst of the ache passed. Then he pulled himself forward, hand over hand along the rail, toward the first handle, then the next, then to the right, following the melody.
As he inched closer to a hatch marked with a symbol he didn’t remember, his heart began to thump harder. The hatch did not open automatically, but a yellow button glowed beside it.
“One, two, three,” Nestor whispered before pressing the button.
The magnetic locks released, and the hatch turned outward.
Nestor’s pupils dilated at the scene in front of him. This was not an empty Chuntian. In fact, it wasn’t the Chuntian at all.
Beyond the hatch stretched the churning rotunda of a massive space station. Nurses moved carts across the curved floor. Orderlies steered beds between bright signs and waiting families. A child sat on a bench with a book, swinging her feet like this was an ordinary morning.
Nestor blinked and rubbed his temples. “Hallucinations,” he thought, “hallucinations were a possible side effect.”
“Think. Calm down. Think.” But neither the hustle, the bustle, nor the melodic sound ebbed. Instead, a hand touched his shoulder.
“There you are,” a voice said gently. “Don’t worry, friend. We have a brand new world for you.”
---
“Pfft.” Nestor scoffed. “Why didn’t you rescue us?”
A female doctor leaned forward. “We respected your sovereignty. Your right to arrive as yourselves.”
“Ha! How humane.” Nestor leaned back. “Let us be honest. You left us in a tomb.”
The man next to the female doctor hesitated but leaned in. “I’m going to be frank with you, Nestor. We didn’t see a reason to. You were pilgrims. Why take that away from anyone?”
Nestor stared. The moment stretched just long enough to become uncomfortable. The doctor’s companion breathed in to continue, but Nestor spoke first. “…and now you want me to celebrate my failure on a stage… with fireworks?”
“Of course not. You and the other pilgrims took a leap of faith. That is worth celebrating.”
Nestor’s stare had gone blank, fixed on nothing as he asked, “Can you take me back home? My old home.”
---
In the following days, Nestor shook the hands of people who, he felt, had no sense of fashion. He learned of Mining Unions blasting planetoids for ore, of Guild disputes over trade corridors, and of new settlements with names he did not recognize, though The Collegium was somehow still around.
Nestor finally experienced Ring travel, but instead of the awe it usually inspired in first-timers, it made him feel small and sad. The distance the Chuntian had crossed in 141 years could now be bridged in less than three days.
The first time he smiled again was when he sat on Pier 18 in Brooklyn Bridge Park, his feet touching the grass, breathing air that was pure and rich with the scent of exotic flowers, and green trees.
“Perhaps…” he whispered to himself.
Technical notes and translations
Chuntian: Mandarin for “spring.” An early colony vessel launched before reliable faster-than-light infrastructure. The Chuntian did not use Ring travel or Alcubierre corridors; it crossed interstellar space through conventional high-efficiency propulsion, accelerating for years, coasting for more than a century, and decelerating before arrival. Its 141-year journey to Proxima Centauri b implies an average speed of roughly 3% the speed of light, fast enough to be a triumph for its era but hopelessly obsolete after the invention of the Rings.
Proxima Centauri b: A real exoplanet orbiting Proxima Centauri, the nearest known star to the Sun. In the Known Systems, it was one of humanity’s early targets for interstellar settlement.
Cryopods: Cryosleep systems designed to preserve passengers during long-duration interstellar travel. Revival often causes disorientation, nausea, memory haze, muscle atrophy, and a delayed panic response. More advanced versions of these pods are still in use centuries later at the time of Orbital Night.
Cryofluid: The preservative fluid used in older cryosleep systems to stabilize the body during long-duration suspension.
Ring Travel: Travel through controlled faster-than-light corridors generated by Ring Stations. To people from Nestor’s era, it compresses impossible distances into casually short trips.
The Known Systems: The mapped and partially settled region of human space. At this point in history, it is smaller than in Orbital Night and The Probability Salvage, but expanding through the efforts of The Collegium, Guilds, Mining Unions, and interstellar trade.
The Collegium: A long-lived political institution within human space, surviving multiple eras of expansion, technological change, and factional conflict.
Guilds: Powerful trade, transport, technical, and infrastructure organizations. Some began as professional associations but grew into major political and economic powers.
Mining Unions: Large industrial organizations involved in asteroid, moon, and planetoid extraction, reflecting the resource demands of post-Ring expansion.
Rotunda: A rotating habitat section that produces artificial gravity through centrifugal force. In the Known Systems, stations and large vessels often use rotation, in addition to magboots, or acceleration-based gravity.
Pier 18: A future addition to Brooklyn Bridge Park. Its existence suggests that Earth’s waterfronts have been rebuilt, expanded, and renumbered over the centuries.
Dollars: The old Earth currency carried by the Chuntian pilgrims. By the time they arrive, their money no longer functions, reflecting their broader economic and cultural displacement.
Now I want to know about ring travel 🤓
😭 not the AI overlords