• • Sunset: Heroes of the Milky Way
• August 3, 2024

Sunset: Heroes of the Milky Way (Chapter 6)

Aleti Ra’non

Forced Missteps

However it may seem, I am deeply interested in Human culture. They’re the only known sentient species who have not been offered a place among the stars. Why wouldn’t a scholar like myself be curious as to what Humans are like? The first step into figuring out this mystery, would be to ask a Human about his life.

The problem is that this Human has the hallmarks of someone both uninformed, biased, and uninterested in his own culture.

“So you do have elections?” 

“I mean, some people do, but they never mean anything,” Clay complains with a shrug.

Suffice to say, I am bewildered, because what the fuck does that mean? “Wait, why do you have elections if they don’t matter? Are they fixed?”

“No, not all the time,” he says, as he starts doing this weird gesture with his hands, like he’s trying to crush something that’s not even there. “Like, in the country I’m from, about half of us vote-”

“Only half? Are you excluding children?”

“No, like half of those who can vote, do.”

“Why?”

“Well, in some places try to stop others from voting, you know to make sure their candidate wins.”

“That isn’t illegal?”

“Depends on how you do it.”

“What would be a legal way of doing it?”

“Showing up with a gun, and intimidating people at the voter box.”

“What?!”

“But only if you’re white. Black people don’t do that, sometimes I feel like some Asians would if they could, depends on the type of Asian, like the Chinese and Japanese would but only to Black people and the Asians they don’t like, like Thai, and Filipinoo.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I beg him as I wipe my eye, exhaustion suddenly hitting me like a truck. “What… what does, white, black, and Aegean mean?”

“Asian.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“You said it with a ‘g,’ not an ‘s,’ and that’s another word.”

“But you knew what I mean and-! Wait, what’s a ‘g?’”

“You don’t know letters?”

“We speak different languages!” I yell at him, but I also kind of yell at me.

He throws his hands up in the air like he doesn’t know. Shouldn’t he? He’s been around the galaxy, he doesn’t know how his own translation power works?!

He’s definitely destroying any desire I have to be an anthropologist. All I asked was how they decide who their leader is. It’s supposed to be a telling question about a society’s values and class system. Didn’t work out that way.

I find myself resting my head in my hands. The only saving grace is how comfy the couch in the loft is. Why didn’t mom take this home with her? The couch in our apartment was made out of wood… 

When I look up, I expect to see Clay looking all nonchalant, but he looks rather embarrassed. He twiddles his thumbs and won’t meet my eye.

“Sorry, I’m not…” he starts scratching behind his head as he tries to explain himself, as if he needs to. “Didn’t really get a formal education, your mom… the team…  they picked me up before I finished whatever Human’s pass off for education, and even when I was in school, I wasn’t really a good student.”

“They let you…” I almost said my first thought out loud. On Reganora, you need excellent scores to stay in school, either in physical or scholarly pursuits, or you get sent to trade schools. Flunk out of there, and you’re basically a manual worker for life unless your parent can pull some strings or you have some artistic talent and someone to care. 

But you figure all of that out when you’re little more than half Clay’s age. How did he get so far without getting kicked out? And do Humans really wait that long before slotting people into their functions?

Fascinating.

Clay interrupts my train of thought  by apologizing to me. “Listen Aleti, I’m sorry you got stuck babysitting me.” 

That sort of kills my whole train of thought because…

What?

Me babysitting him? This is news to me since I thought it was the other way around.

“What do you mean?” I ask, trying to hold in a chuckle. “Why would you need babysitting?”

Then his face looks pained. “This planet, the Riverti, they enrage me. You know what happens here, half the planet is ruled under an apartheid government, and nobody even talks to the other half.” 

He knows what an apartheid is?

“It’s… Humans, we… we had… have a few of those. I guess it’s hypocritical to complain one when I’m from a place that allows the same thing but… I don’t know, it enrages me there and here.”

I never truly considered why Clay seemed so biased as he was speaking. Admittedly, we’ve only been talking for an hour, I may have gotten to it, but not that he pointed it, it felt so obvious.

I just found out yesterday that my home planet and my people are considered a regime, one that walks over and takes advantage of the other species. I didn’t notice that either. Am I… am I just that stupid, or is it in the nature of a Regamoprh to miss these things?

Not quite nature versus nurture, but like my nature versus our nature. 

But Clay was talking, and I should have been listening. 

I catch him as he admits to me, “It all drives me up a wall, this world, my world. I do stupid, violent things when I’m up a wall.” 

I’m assuming the wall is metaphorical, plus it also seems inappropriate to ask if that’s a thing Humans do. Knowing Clay’s powers I can understand why Mom wouldn’t want him running around angry. She must really trust me, but can I do? 

I can say the wrong thing, that’s for sure. “That’s just the way they live, and the Watree accept it. Who are we to judge the way of life that has carried them through the years?”

Clay’s eyes narrow on me. I’m trying to calm him down, make him feel… not angry, and I go and say something that like that. 

“I would bet everything I have that the reason the Watree don’t revolt is that they’re not sore losers, or that they’re afraid. Maybe both. They’re been told and convinced that they lose the Ruleden Tourney because they feel lesser but that’s bullshit. 

“They’re all the same species, being a different color doesn’t make one lesser or better than the other, but they’ve all bought into the idea that can’t all eat at the same table, or hold each other’s hand or… 

“Tradition is stupid, wanting things to stay the same is stupid, especially when it’s just hurting you.”

“That’s easy for you to say, isn’t it?” I ask him.

When he looks at me again, the pupil of his eyes starts to smoke and so does the back of his throat. He’s looking away coughing, covering it up, and apologizing before I can register it as a threat.

But it was a threat.

“Sorry, I… sometimes I can’t help it when I get a bit… um, not angry, annoyed?”

“Agitated?” I offer.

“Um, yeah, I… I haven’t really… I can’t really work on it… at home anyway.”

And just like that, I can see how much my mom trusted me.

“Can I continue with what I was saying before I… agitated you?”

“Yes I- I… I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what it’s like to have powers like yours,” I tell him, a fact that has hounded me most of my life… “I don’t know how it affects your emotions, but as someone who was raised by Alloya Ra’non, I pretty sure someone even half as strong as her has some privilege. 

“I mean, Mom was always telling me that she could level the place and no one could stop her whenever she got angry. She would mumble, mutter, and curse up a storm over stuff like that. I bet you could do the same kind of damage, so yeah, isn’t it easy for you to say ‘fuck you’ to anything? They got themselves, their families, their homes, and everything that makes them comfortable to worry about. What could make you uncomfortable?”

Clay holds his hands together, squeezing them so yard in concentration. I bet he’s trying not to let out the fire, or worse. “I wouldn’t say I don’t know what uncomfortable is.”

“But like these people do? I don’t have a clue, maybe you’re right, they have nothing to lose, but do you know for sure when you judge them?”

“If they’re anything like Earth…” he mumbled. 

It only just occurred to me that Clay and I are more of less the same age, given a few months, maybe a year, but he’s just… so less… mature. Maybe it’s the lack of education like he said, but he’s running on emotions all the time. Or maybe it’s a Human thing. I wish knew, you can’t learn this in a textbook or a class seminar.

“Does everything happening here remind you of Earth?”

Clay shrugs, before leaning back and revealing the compression marks his thumbs left in his hands. “Jesus Christ, what hell am I doing?”

“Talking it out.” Maybe I should have studied to be a therapist, being an emotional confidant, knowing what’s in everyone’s head. And it’s not like I have anyone who I’d tell. Everyone could tell me so many interesting things…

Then again, not everyone can be so interesting just for being a fish out of water.

Then I wonder, “What was that phrase again?” 

“Jesus Christ?” Clay asks.

“Yeah, that doesn’t translate.”

“Just a casual saying some Humans say when they’re stressed out, or pissed off, or surprised,” he explains. “It’s named after an old Human… supposed to be the son of god.

“So a demigod?”

“You’d think, but they’d argue you with you about it. Now that I think about it, I don’t know why we use his name like that. I don’t even believe in that shit.” Then Clay makes his own puzzled face.

Then the fact that this saying doesn’t translate reminds me of something.

I ask Clay, “So, who taught you how to speak Codex?”

He looks at me sideways like I’m speaking gibberish. “Codex?”

Now he’s confusing me. “Yeah, you know, Codex.” The trade language that allows all the species to communicate with each other. Schools for young Regamorphs, Techanots, Waverites, and, well Lupians in the past, all teach Codex as a secondary language so we can all communicate, asides from our own native languages. “You’re speaking it right now,” which makes his whole alphabet rant a bit weird.

Clay continues to look at me all confused for a few solid seconds. Then a bulb lights up in his head. He starts explaining, “Oh, I know why you would think I’m speaking Codex. You see, you know about the demons Guardians have, right?”

“Yes,” I answer him.

“Well, the demons have the uncanny ability to link Guardians to the minds of anyone, and translate for them. Right now, I’m hearing you in my native language, and you hear me in yours. If I spoke to any other species I would understand them, as long as they communicate with words. I can’t read other languages but I can verbally understand them.”

“Oh, that’s so cool! And useful. Like, damn, I wouldn’t have had to take a foreign language class with that!” 

“Well, it doesn’t translate if your species has multiple languages. They’re pricks and make us work for somethings, I guess. Like, I can only understand one of the many languages on my planet, but your Mom would understand all of them if she were to go to Earth. If I went to Reganora and met someone who spoke a different language than your mom, I would understand that person but she wouldn’t.”

I rub my head trying process this information. “That’s all kinda confusing.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” he agrees.

We then sort of go into a sort of awkward silence. Then I think to make the conversation more personal, again for research purposes.

“Clay, my mom told me stories about all of you guys on Team Sunset as I was growing up,” I start.

“And?” he muttered, watching me rather hesitantly. Just what does he expect me to say?

“She told me of how she met each of you, but with you and Hideo, Mom didn’t recruit you personally,” I explain.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right, Jackal recruited the both of us. Why do you ask?” 

“I want to know how he did that, it was Humanity’s first contact with aliens wasn’t it? Sounds pretty significant if you ask me. The only thing close to as interesting as finding out you’re not alone in the universe is seeing how other species find out the same thing.”

“Oh, I thought maybe you’d like to know about Jackal,” Clay says, almost sounding disappointed. 

Oof, I may have put my foot in my mouth there.

Among everyone, losing Jackal hits so soon for Clay. For him, it’s only been months.

“I would like to learn about him too.” It might seem sneaky to play around with his emotions, but I don’t want to seem inconsiderate of Clay’s feelings, or worse unappreciative of Jackal’s importance to him. “I just thought it might not be appropriate to bring him up too much.” 

I try to sound shy as I admit.

Clay smiles at me, now taking my interest the way I want. “It’s fine Aleti. I’m not one of those people who won’t talk about something because someone is dead. If we don’t talk about who we’ve lost, about the good times and bad, then they fade away, and I’m not really about to let him go.” 

Huh, deep stuff he just said, and I couldn’t disagree more, but not the time.

I just shut up and wait for the story to start, but it turns into me staring at him, staring at the ceiling.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I’m trying to think of where to start,” Clay say.

“Uh, start the very beginning,” I offer, trying not to sound like that should be obvious. “As far back as you think necessary. It’s not like we don’t have time.”

Clayton Knight

The truck they had me in blocked out the light. You’d think they’d want me be at my best, but they didn’t quite believe in how my powers worked. 

Agent M had picked me up from my house for a mission she couldn’t explain, and at the moment, thought only I could handle. My powers had materialized a year back at this poitn, and Agent M had been my handler ever since. 

Agent M hadn’t called for me to do anything so this was weird. Usually all she did was check up on me and see if Zeke or I needed any help with my mom. Not that she ever offered to help herself, but more like she would have someone else do the dirty work.
I didn’t really feel like I could say no to any of these missions since the government, or whatever agency Agent M worked with paid the important bills for whatever my mom or I needed. 

Except for a new Playstation. 

“Can you tell me where we’re going?” I asked Agent M. She was sitting across from me, legs crossed, a cigarette in her mouth, and apathy all but spray-painted across her face. She had that even before she picked me up so not my fault.

“No,” Agent M answered plainly.

“Just tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

“Kill something.”

“Yeah, but what?”

“A thing, you’ll know it when you see it.”

I couldn’t tell if she thought I don’t deserve to know, didn’t know herself, or if she was just in a mood.

“Real depth there.” Agent M moved her eyes up from her cigarette to give me a quick glare and just as quickly looked back down. “Is it really so hard to tell me what’s going on?”

“I don’t think you’ll believe me.”

“Really?” 

She has to be kidding. I can fly into outer space, have Superman super strength, can shoot beams of light out of every pore, and have a literal fucking demon inside my head. 

But all I asked was, “Why do you think I won’t believe you?”

Then Agent M looked down at me to meet my gaze. She took the cigarette out of her mouth and held it between two fingers. She blew smoke from her lips right before saying, “You need to kill a werewolf that’s throwing cars across the interstate, but has an overshield blocking our firepower from killin him.”

Yup, okay, I had to give her that, I didn’t believe her.

But like… I literally said I would so I pretended to believe in her wolfman. 

Agent M started to chuckle because my face probably gave me away. I try to defend myself, “Hey, that’s believable. When you can fly, have super-”

“When you’re a 15 year old kid who’s only just developed super-powers, used to think the weirdest thing was South Korean music, and just found out the world has some weird stuff in it… a werewolf is still unbelievable. It’s fine if your first reaction to everything is to be surprised.” 

“I’m not a kid.”

Now smiling, she went back to her cigarette. “Sure you’re not.” Then Agent M goes wide-eyed. 

“I’m sorry, I forgot.”

“What?”

“I’m being rude.” Then she held out her carton of cigaretts to me. “Here, I forgot to offer you one. Gramps always said it would be rude not to.”

I look between her and the cigarette. “I’m 15.” 

“I thought you weren’t a kid? And you’re about to fight werewolf.”.

“Hmm.” I reach for one.

Then the truck comes to a grinding halt and the doors are opened by an older military officer, dressed in combat gear. He looks between me, a 15 year old kid, and Agent M, a grown woman, trading cigarettes.

He judged Agent M, “Really? Your giving one to the kid?”

“Why not, Jim? His powers probably keep it from hurting him any, and he’s not entirely human so underage laws don’t count.” 

Hmm, her logic, unlike my hands, did hold water. Would a cigarette would do anything for me at all then? I could probably light it with my finger, which now thinking about it, sounds pretty badass.

Jim shook his head and motioned for us to get out of the car. Agent M held up her hand to tell me to go first. I quickly got out and felt energized as the sunlight hit me. 

Then I looked to my left and saw cars toppled over and claw marks on the doors.

“Is it big?” I asked Jim.

“Oh yeah, seven, maybe eight feet tall,” he said honestly.

“Crap,” I groaned. I’m gonna have to shoot it a lot, hopefully that gets through the overshield.

Then Jim wrapped a hand around my shoulder to walk me around the truck and show it to me.

It’s an honest-to-god werewolf standing in the middle of an empty highway. A wolf on two legs, if said wolf was also on steroids, had huge ass teeth, and a jaw three quarters of a foot long. It was also snapping its jaws violently towards any soldier who approached it.

But then again, I shot beams of light from my eyes and hands. Maybe it will hurt him since it’s not moonlight. 

“I don’t envy you kid,” Jim said, “your job is going to hard. We need you to try and capture it alive.”

I swiveled my head to look up at him. I politely asked, “How in the absolute goddamn fuck am I supposed to do that?” 

“You’re strong, beat the crap out of it, but don’t kill it, or let it kill you. The eggheads just want it alive,” Jim explained.

“Have you tried shooting it, but with like, an RPG?” I asked.

Then he looks at me like I hadn’t listened at all. “I just said we want it alive, we don’t know if that will kill it. How the hell would we stop the bleeding? We’re not experts on werewolf anatomy.”

I moved my head back and forth between Jim and Agent M, who only shrugged. “What? I’m an expert on werewolves now? What if I kill it by accident?”

Then Jim turns to me and said, “Kid, if you accidentally kill it with your fists I’ll buy you a leg better than your first smoke. I’ll buy you your first shot.” Then patted me on the back and shoved me forward. “Now get a move on. The faster this is over the better.”

‘Well they seem eager to throw you under the bus,’ Sera mocked.

Oh, now you want to speak to me. Couldn’t talk when I was bored and sitting in that truck? I asked the demon.

‘Why would I do that? I was busy. What, do you think I care about your happiness and saving you from boredom?’

Fine, be that way, dick.

I snapped back into reality and the soldiers have made way for me to move in. This also created a very blatant and obvious path between me and the werewolf, which was now staring directly at me.

“I believe in you!” I heard Agent M yell behind me, as if I couldn’t hear the doubt in her voice.

I walked slowly towards the beast when I notice that it had a large silver bag between its feet. It’s design was out of this world, and I’ve never seen one like it.

“RALG!” the werewolf snarled at me.

As I moved closer, it kneeled down into a pouncing stance, and sniffed me out, smelling me.

I raised my hand towards it and powered up my fingertips with some energy. I hadn’t been taught how to materialize my power from my palm, so they looked a bit weird and probably unintimidating. 

I mentioned being able to blast light out of every pore, but well, I wasn’t exactly good at it, so the blasts weren’t exactly all that big or powerful yet. 

With my glowing hand raised I try speaking to it, at the off chance it spoke English. What did I have to lose? 

“Okay beast, if you can understand what I’m saying, if you don’t back down, I’ll have to fight you. I don’t want to fight you.” Then I looked at its large teeth. “I really, really don’t want to fight you.”

Then it stopped growling, looked at my hand, and made that noise dogs make when they’re confused. “Oh good, I didn’t want to fight either.”

Then the werewolf moved onto its hind legs to stand up straight like a normal person and not an intimidating animal. It also closed its jaw, smiled, and sat down on its butt, not like a canine, but like person sitting like a pretzel. “I can speak whatever language you do. I can explain that later.” 

I was in shock if you could imagine, so I stopped powering up my hand and let my shoulders slump down. My jaw is wide open and frozen in that position. 

Then the werewolf turned around and grabbed the bag I noticed before. He reached into it and pulls out some kind of ski vest that he slipped on over his massive arms. Then he put on some cargo shorts before he met my gaze before. 

“What?”

“You can talk?” I asked.

Then his brow scrunched down. “Uh, yeah, of course I can.”

“I didn’t think werewolves could talk.”

“Werewolves? What the heck is that? I’m a Lupian.” Then he recognized that I have no idea what he is talking about. “Sorry, I’m an alien to you, I forgot that Humans don’t get many of those around here.”

An alien wolfman? 

There’s a whole species of people like him?

He visited here? From outer space?

There was only one word appropriate to describe this situation. 

Awesome.

“You’re an alien from outer space!?”

He got back on his feet as he said, “Yeah, I’m here to meet you. My name is-”

“That’s so freakin’ cool!” 

Then he hesitated. “Huh?”

“Aliens are cool, wolfmen are cool. You’re both! You’re so cool!” Thas is a big moment for me.

Then he smiled wide, ego certainly boosted, and rubbed his chin as he agreed, “I am pretty cool, aren’t I?” Then he remembered why he’s here. “Wait! Hold on a second.” 

He walked up to me and offered me his hand. Do — what was he called — Lupians shake hands too? 

“Hey Clay, my name is Jackal, and I’m a Guardian like you.” That sounded rehearsed, and kind of robotic. Then his smile seems to look more and more embarrassed. “You know what this is awkward. I’ll just explain everything to you when we’re with the others. Terra’rork! Beam us up!” 

Then out of freaking nowhere a big spaceship appeared over everyone’s head. The bottom of it has a circular opening and light shining on us like in every bad movie. Then both Jackal and I begin to levitate upwards, which thankfully, does not make me sick.

I hear some yelling behind me along the lines of, “Stop them! Someone!”

Then I turn around as someone fires at us when we’re halfway to the ship. Jackal quickly moved his arm around me and took a bullet that would have hit my back. “Ack! Damn it,” he cursed. Then I watch as he squeezed the muscles in his arm and the bullet falls out. It couldn’t have been that far in at all, as if it was at the edge where I couldn’t see its shiny color.

“Do bullets not hurt you? I thought you had a shield.”

Then Jackal looked at me like I’m crazy. “What? Of course that hurt, like, a lot! But we’re in the gravity beam, the shields don’t work that well in here.”

“Stop shooting you idiot!” I recognized the voice behind me and turn around to see Agent M knock the gun away from a soldier who shot at us.

She looked up and made eye contact with me as I entered the dark ship. 

Then the lights turned on and I’m on some sort of bridge. I turn around and saw a woman, at least what I thought was one, smiling and staring down at me.

I mention that ‘I thought,’ because she had silver skin and was over 6 feet tall. She simply reminded me of an alien Amazon.

Then the lights turn on one at a time revealing a rock guy, a bat-man, and a fish dude.

The silver woman asked, “Welcome Clay, I’m sure you have some questions.”

“Uh, I do, but can we bring up my friend?” I asked. “She’s my handler, and I think she would be better suited to handle this.”

Aleti Ra’non

He stops talking like the story is finished, queuing me to say, “I have two questions Clay. What did my Mom say to you, and since when did the Rango have a levitator and a cloaking device?”

“Everyone introduced themselves and explained to me the ins and outs of being a Guardian and what we are. All that mumbo jumbo crap. Also the levitator and cloaking device broke. Your mom decided that a ramp would be a much cheaper replacement and the cloaking system was eventually made obsolete.”

“Huh, I never took my mom to be cheap.” Then again, the Regnorian government did pay her off when we were living on Reganora, so there was never a reason to not spend their money.

“In her defense, Team Sunset had a budget and she tried to keep it in control as much as she could,” says the ship’s AI who speaks up to defend her. 

I have to chuckle at the irony of the ship defending the woman who decided to skimp out on her own repair bills.