Tonks and I appeared in what seemed to be a corridor. As we observed our surroundings, the first thing we noticed was the metal—or something similar. The walls, floor, and ceiling all had a metallic appearance, but not a uniform one. Each surface had a different design, as if they had been built from various materials, giving the place an unconventional look. Additionally, the corridor was perfectly illuminated by a series of strategically placed lights, leaving not a single spot in shadow.
As we paid closer attention, we realized that not only were we in an unknown place, but something about us had changed as well—our clothing. We were no longer wearing our usual outfits, not even Muggle clothes or wizard robes. Instead, both of us were dressed in a form-fitting, one-piece suit that covered us from the soles of our feet to our necks. It didn't feel like fabric but rather some strange material—a blend of fiber, plastic, and metal—that was hard to describe. It was unlike anything we had ever seen before, yet surprisingly comfortable. There were no folds or loose areas that could make it uncomfortable, and the strangest part was how it fit: despite molding perfectly to our bodies, it did not reveal our genitals at all.
Tonks didn't waste too much time admiring the place. Not because she didn't find it impressive, but because she was still drunk—though to a lesser extent. Without hesitation, she started walking, and I followed her, analyzing every detail around us. I had already read the mission briefing, but even so, I couldn't stop myself from feeling amazed.
And then, after walking for a while, we saw something truly breathtaking. The corridor we were in had been enclosed up to that point, but we soon reached a section where one of the walls turned into a massive window, revealing the outside.
A vast ocean of stars stretched out before us, so overwhelming that even Tonks, with her bad mood and lingering drunkenness, couldn't help but stare in wonder. For a moment, both of us stood in silence, gazing at space with awe and fascination.
…
We had already spent several days aboard this spaceship, though aside from the fact that we were in a futuristic, high-tech era traveling through space, nothing particularly special had happened. I never figured out if Tonks' vomiting upon arrival was due to her drunkenness or the realization that we were floating in the middle of the void inside a giant metal box… the mysteries of life.
This place was far from empty. The ship had a large crew—around 1,500 people, according to my estimates—though I was nowhere near exploring the entire structure. That was understandable, given that the ship was colossal yet made incredibly efficient use of its space.
Shortly after arriving, a guide greeted us and registered us in the system. For this mission, we had assigned identities: we were newly recruited psionic soldiers aboard the ship. Our information had been fully uploaded into the database, including assigned rooms, schedules, and duties.
The rooms, like the rest of the ship, were designed with spatial efficiency in mind. They were just large enough to hold a bed and allow us to walk to it. The walls had compartments for storing clothes, as well as various devices for comfort, including a climate control system, an ambient music player, and interactive panels. There was also a small bathroom that could change functions depending on the need: mirror and sink, toilet, or shower—switching components to optimize space.
There were several communal dining halls where most of the crew could go to eat, though it wasn't the most common practice. Generally, each person was provided with a ration of nutrient liquid—enough to sustain them but too artificial to provide the satisfaction of a real meal. If someone wanted real food, they had to go to the dining halls and spend a small amount of credits, the currency used aboard the ship. It wasn't expensive, but most people preferred to save their credits for more important necessities.
Even so, the food on the ship left much to be desired. With the available futuristic technology, food preservation wasn't an issue, but the kinds of food that could last for years in space were rarely the most appetizing or affordable. Another problem was the lack of human chefs. Most cooking tasks, along with other repetitive jobs, were handled by robots and automated systems, which ensured uniformity in the food but not taste or quality. A truly good meal was a rarity.
And that's how my first side job on the ship began.
You see, Tonks eventually sobered up, but that didn't mean our relationship improved. Yes, we were still together in this unfamiliar place, but she barely spoke to me or even looked at me unless it was absolutely necessary. And when she did, her tone was cold and indifferent. She preferred to stay in her cabin to avoid me, and once she got used to the ship, she didn't even wait for me or ask me to accompany her—she simply went off to explore on her own.
In an attempt to fix things with her, I tried to be as kind as possible despite her obvious disinterest. Among these attempts was food. At first, Tonks was curious about the nutrient liquid, but after a few days, she grew tired of it. She tried the food from the dining halls, but that didn't impress her much either, especially compared to what we used to eat back home. So, I decided to cook something for her. The ingredients weren't the best, but with my [Cooking] skill at its current level, I could at least ensure the food tasted good.
It wasn't easy to gain access to the kitchen. To begin with, I had to pay a considerable amount of credits, both for the use of the space and for the ingredients, which were overpriced. But in the end, I managed to prepare something for Tonks. Given the conditions, the food turned out to be quite delicious. However, when I handed it to her, she didn't show the slightest expression of interest or gratitude.
As she ate in silence, other crew members were drawn to the aroma and appearance of the food. When Tonks had only taken a few bites, she decided to give the rest away to the others and left without saying a word. Those who tasted it were surprised, and some even seemed on the verge of tears… well, the more dramatic ones.
That was how I became somewhat known among the crew. Several people tried to socialize with me, befriend me, and even hinted that they would like me to cook for a gathering in the future.
A few days later, a higher-ranking crew member—not too high, but above me—called me in and took me to the kitchen for a test. After assessing my skills, they offered me a position as a cook, making me one of the few humans in charge of food on the ship.
I accepted without hesitation. Now that Tonks was avoiding me most of the time, I had plenty of free time, and besides, it was a good way to earn extra credits.
...
A few weeks passed, and aside from cooking, the most remarkable and significant discovery was that of the psionics. After some research—reading digital books, news, and a few classified files (which we had limited access to as psionic recruits)—we managed to understand their function better. We also had contact with a senior psionic officer, who assigned us tasks and supervised our progress.
Psionics are the equivalent of wizards in this spacefaring era. There are no records of wizards or anything similar—only psionics. They use the power of the mind to develop various abilities, somewhat like Jedi with the Force… or at least, that's what people believe. However, after my own research, I discovered that psionic power shares at least 60% similarity with magic. You could say it is magic, but with some differences—perhaps another path or variation of it.
Natural psionics are rare, particularly those born with the gift. There are methods to awaken psionic abilities in some people, but they are dangerous and come at a high cost to the body. It's not uncommon for someone artificially "awakened" to have a shorter lifespan than normal.
Psionic powers (PSI) seem less versatile than traditional magic. They are very effective for specific tasks but have limitations. For example, there are no advanced levels of transfiguration—you can soften or harden objects, but you can't transform an inanimate object into a living being or turn one creature into another.
The most common psionic abilities include telekinesis, telepathy, detection, precognition, prediction, energy materialization, pyrokinesis, and a few more. They are not as varied or complex as magic. Moreover, individuals tend to have a particular talent in specific branches. A psionic might be incredibly powerful in pyrokinesis but nearly useless in all other aspects. The difference is much more pronounced than in the world of magic.
I became obsessed with studying everything related to psionic power, using clones as test subjects. Over time, I compiled summaries and made some valuable discoveries. I organized these studies and gave them to Tonks to review. I knew she was still mad at me and wanted nothing to do with me, but I insisted because this was truly important.
I discovered that our magic could be transformed into PSI power or at least acquire some of its properties. However, the process was extremely difficult. If I had access to more advanced information—which I knew existed but was restricted—I could develop a simpler method… though that would have to wait for the future. What really mattered now was that integrating PSI power into our repertoire of abilities could be very useful, if not essential. PSI was a powerful tool—practically a way to use magic without a wand, albeit in a simpler but effective form. Here, wands weren't used, but there were certain accessories and weapons designed to enhance psionic abilities.
My current goal was to study PSI power whenever I had free time. Our tasks on the ship—both Tonks' and mine—were simple in theory but complicated in practice: transporting supplies, running errands, guarding, escorting, maintaining order, repairing, or supervising… The problem was that we knew nothing about the ship's advanced technology. I had a slightly better grasp, but Tonks was completely lost. For a while, we were considered the "idiots of the ship." We made several mistakes and only learned through trial, error, and repeated scoldings. We were still lost and ignorant, but we were managing.
Despite all this, Tonks found something that truly interested her—weapons and the training room. If she wasn't avoiding me or fulfilling her duties, she spent most of her time there. Of course, training wasn't free. Each magazine cost a considerable amount of credits, and our salary wasn't enough to waste them. That's why my job as a cook helped—I could give her some extra credits to spend, though she never thanked me for it.
Her fascination with weapons, especially small firearms, became her only real hobby on the ship. She was interested in both energy weapons and the few conventional firearms still in use, particularly pistols. She had no aim at first—this was her first time shooting—but every chance she got, she practiced relentlessly. In time, she would surely improve.
---///---
patreon.com/Lunariuz