The Legacy of Lightning Meets the Sea

It’s on her way home that Lightning hears him – the heavy footfalls of his shambling suit marching ever closer in the corridor behind her. She’s gotten complacent, hasn’t spared him a thought in years. Assumed she was safe, here, on this station that was always more his domain than hers.

And now she sees him everywhere, as her pace quickens. His tentacles lashing out from shadowy corners; his mocking laughter in the conversation of passing rooms; even his shrill, grinding “Heeeeeeey!” as the door to her room whines open and shut again. Thea looks up as she enters, perched on her bed, and studies her with faint concern. “Stressful meeting?” she ventures tentatively, but Lightning cannot answer, too busy drafting great gulps of ammonia in and out from her gills.

Instead, she turns and manipulates a small console by the door with one hand of her suit. A screen sparks to light, showing a view of the corridor outside; after a few moments, another Sailor stomps into view. It’s not him. Where his garish, sickly yellow would stain her eyes, she finds them soothed by a pleasant, pale pink.

Thea is looking at her with yet more concern, her name on the tip of her beak. “I thought it was- him,” Lightning explains, and then although it feels like grit as it passes through her mouth, “Tremendous… Flash.” She feels silly to even mention him. He’s light years away, now, in a small prison somewhere on the Thousand Colours Moon; she hasn’t even bothered looking up where.

Immediately, Thea’s expression softens. With a gesture, she tugs Lightning gently towards her; she sits on the corner of the bed, careful not to let too much weight rest upon it, and Thea hugs her exosuit as best she can. Over the years, she’s learnt how to avoid the sharp corners, but not for the last time they both wish that they could discard the suit entirely. Yet as the adrenaline and fear fade, and Lightning’s breath slows, and Thea’s distant warmth soaks into the glass capsule, she says quietly, “It’s alright, Lightning. He’s gone – Flash is gone.”

And – although they don’t realise it at the time, nor will in future – neither of them will ever utter his name again.

“Once upon a time, long long ago, there was an evil kind that ruled this part of the galaxy. They did not choose to be evil, mind – they were made to be that way.

And so they were, marauding across the galaxy. They consumed innumerable civilisations, quashed innumerable histories. That was what their purpose was.

Now, young ones. You might notice that this part of the galaxy is ruled no longer by an unstoppable despoiling force. What became of this kind?”

The instructor paused for a moment, and heard the children's answer.

“That's right. They were us. Life cannot be so easily bound to a purpose. Time weathered down the force of this evil, until a lone hand reached out in friendship broke a barrier that even the ancients could not.”

Another pause. A question from the audience.

“Yes. It is said that Kith-Toph returned in kind the kindness that was shown to her, and gave the gift of hand-holding to Lightning and her dearest Thea. But that is not part of your curriculum. Please turn to slide 159, where we'll continue…”