The Glitch in Jorin’s Log**
The Wayward Starling eased out of the drift and back into realspace with a soft, velvety sigh. Stars snapped into crisp brightness, and the familiar navigation chimes pinged like a polite reminder that the universe was ready for them again.
Kessa stretched. “Okay. Drift was great. Tea was great. Feelings were… weirdly great.” She poked Kael’s arm. “So! What’s next?”
Kael didn’t answer at first.
He sat in the captain’s chair, eyes fixed on a small icon blinking in the corner of his datapad screen.
Kessa tilted her head. “What’s that face?”
“It started blinking during the drift,” Kael said. “I thought it was a normal file sync but… it isn’t.”
Kessa leaned over the console. “What is it?”
Kael tapped the icon.
A window opened: Jorin’s Personal Log — Fragment 12A Timestamp: Twelve years ago Status: Corrupted / Incomplete Contents: 1 New Line Recovered
Kessa inhaled sharply. “Is that—?”
“Yeah,” Kael said quietly. “Another piece of his message.”
The fragment began to play.
At first only static filled the speakers — soft, wavering, like someone whispering through fog. Then a half?sentence cracked through the distortion:
“…and follow the small star. It hides what I could not say outright…”
More static.
Then the log cut off completely.
Kessa’s eyes widened. “Oh… okay. That’s creepy.”
Kael replayed it. Same fragment. Same half?sentence.
“Why now?” Kessa asked. “Why did it show up during the drift?”
Kael frowned. “Good question.”
He dug into the metadata. “File integrity was stable until… twenty?six minutes ago.”
“Which was,” Kessa said, “when the ship adjusted life support for the drift?”
Kael nodded. “Maybe the recalibration unmasked a damaged sector of the storage drive.”
“Or the Starling is trying to tell us something,” Kessa whispered dramatically.
“Kessa.”
“What? AI?adjacent emotional support starships exist! I read about one once.”
He gave her a look.
She ignored it.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
A Clue of a Clue
Kael magnified the corrupted waveform. “The phrase ‘small star’ keeps coming up.”
Kessa leaned over. “What does that even mean? A station? A beacon? An actual star?”
“Or a metaphor.”
“Ugh. I hate metaphors.”
“You love metaphors.”
“I love pranks disguised as metaphors.”
Kael smothered a laugh. “Not helpful.”
Kessa tapped the console thoughtfully. “What about the rest? ‘It hides what I could not say outright’… that’s definitely clue language.”
“Yeah,” Kael murmured. “Feels like he wanted us to find something specific.”
She hopped out of her chair. “We need intel!”
“I agree. But where do we start?”
Kessa struck a heroic pose. “The Bridge Library!”
Kael blinked. “…we don’t have a library.”
“We have three manuals, a notebook you never use, and a crate of emergency muffins. That’s basically a library.”
“Kessa.”
“Fine,” she said. “Then the next best thing: the maintenance logs.”
The Maintenance Bay Mystery
They headed down the corridor, the ship humming softly around them. The doors to the maintenance bay slid open with their usual faint rattle — a rattle Kael kept meaning to fix.
The bay lights flicked on, revealing the familiar array of tools, spare parts, and one very unorganized box labeled:
“Jorin’s Stuff — Absolutely Don’t Throw Away”
Kessa beamed. “Treasure box!”
Kael groaned. “We shouldn’t—”
“We absolutely should.”
Before he could stop her, she had pulled the box down and plopped it in the middle of the floor.
Inside lay:
- A worn leather flight glove
- A tiny tin of ship polish
- Three broken buttons
- A faded postcard of a starfield with no labels
- A folded piece of graph paper
- And a small holo-chip shaped like a hexagon
Kessa lifted the hexagon. “What’s this?”
Kael frowned. “I’ve never seen that before.”
He plugged it into the maintenance console.
A small projection flickered to life: A star map.
Not a big one. Not an official one. It showed only one jump lane… leading to a single, tiny beacon light on the far edge of the screen.
The label beneath it read:
“Little Bright.”
Kessa whispered, “Small star.”
Kael’s stomach dropped. “Yeah.”
“And look—” Kessa pointed to scribbled handwriting on the graph paper. It looked like Jorin’s.
“Go only when you’re ready. Take the Starling. Trust the trail.”
Kael sat back slowly, heart thumping.
Kessa looked at him. “Mystery unlocked.”
“I… don’t think it’s unlocked,” Kael said. “I think it’s just starting.”
Kessa grinned, excitement radiating like a sunburst. “Oh, Kael. We are so going there.”
Chapter’s Riddle (Found in Jorin’s Notes)
At the bottom of the graph paper, almost hidden beneath folds, was a single hand?written riddle:
“I am found in darkness but carry the light. I guide without knowing, and shine without sight. What am I?”
Kessa flopped to the floor. “Uncle Jorin left us a riddle. I love him even more now.”
Kael read it again, thoughtful.
“That… could mean a lot of things,” he murmured.
“Or,” Kessa said, eyes bright, “it could mean something waiting at that beacon.”
Kael exhaled. The hum of the ship seemed to deepen around them, like the Starling herself was listening.
“We’ll finish our deliveries,” Kael said slowly. “But after that… we follow the clue.”
Kessa bumped her shoulder against his. “Together?”
He met her eyes.
“Always.”