Butterflies of the Dark Star

1 (REVISED)

"It has been several months since the disappearance of the D.S Butterfly into the Ushavex nebula," the reporter on the Information Screen in the corner of the engineering classroom spoke, though the sparks which hissed off the metal panel she welded made it difficult to see past her mask. Nova twisted off the thermotorch to listen to the news which repeated every week. Sweat plastered onto her brow when she tugged it off her face. On her feet, she undocked the thermotorch from her welding tool, and changed the setting while the reporter continued on their track.

"Mx. Orili — known best for their work on temporal anomalies and their use in stasis pods — was sent by the Institution of Anomaly Research to spearhead the research team to study the nebula which currently prevents further exploration past the galactic wall." The reporter leaned forward with intentful, hungry eyes, slavering for any gossip. "Many have posed questions to the Institution about this strange disappearance — prompted by these discussions, the I.A.R have sent out the B.H Supernova research station to contact the D.S Butterfly, though they have declined further comments as to whether this was caused by an anomaly yet unrecorded."

Enough time to clean my mess. Nova rested her hand on her final project and presentation for Internship on the B.H Supernova. One last check of her wristwatch, she tapped the small screen to bring up the time and her schedule. Tools back into the box, she closed it, and it hissed and locked. Knees bent, she lifted it into her arm and waddled over to her personal cabinet, shoving it on the bottom rack, beneath datascrolls full of blueprints and measurements. Her head throbbed with uncertainty as she closed her locker, and the news report went silent once again. It's like it's taunting me. Jitters crawled through her hands, and she tried to shake them out as she returned to her droid to set up the protective barrier. It crawled and twisted into diamond shapes. Everything checked, she grabbed her bag full of holotexts and left the classroom.

Nova headed past one of the first term engineering lecture rooms, where Overseer Mikean as he directed the fresh blood into the program of droid creation, ship building and maintenance. On some of their faces, pain and confusion at all the formulas which hid the creation and love of their machine art. It'll come in time. Her steps took out outside the Shipfaring Faculty, on the side of Irevium Collegiate, on a hill which overlooked the metropolis which overtook the valley. A breeze hushed through the campus, and she walked towards the dorm towers, though she stopped by the main part of the campus, populated by both the library holostore and the large cafeteria.

Music droned through the chatter of students on their varying lunch blocks. A synthesized beat to overlap the words as she adjusted with her bag straps and headed to the counter for food. Student Identification between her two fingers, she mulled over the options of the week. In light of the recent opportunity given to her for Internship, she hadn't wanted to risk wasting picking up groceries only to leave it all behind. If I get picked. Her stomach churned at the scenario of failure, but she pushed through onto the small track, where the barrier closed behind her and she was free to pick and choose.

Let's see... Nova ran down the list while the barrier closed off the chatter, but not the music. Menus separated by nearby planetary cuisines, and sometimes even a special, while underneath each listing it showed dietary needs and ingredients within. Her finger drifted on the smaller projection front of her while other students put their orders into the system for the cooks. Nervousness flowed through her spine at the thought of all the others who waited in line, so she went for her usual pickings of salads and cold meats for a lack of appetite. Order placed, she moved onto Neo's.

If I know him, he's going to come to the dorm late having forgotten to eat. Nova grabbed the packaged meals at the end of the delivery line. Some people from their generalized courses sat in the booths, surrounded by papers and barely any time to socialize with their final papers. Just as she had barely any time to think about anything other than her presentation for Internship.