Star 5C - 9056, Octenfis 13

 "Crasher." The word rang in little newborn Crimson Mira's ears. She tugged at the odd circles on her ears. This odd world was bright and shiny. There was a coldness around her. And the odd man standing in front of her was looking at an odd flat blue light. Not anything like the warmth and darkness Crimson had known. There were two odd faces above her... and something was wrong. They had strange little strings on their heads. The strings reached all the way down, and the left face's strings almost touched Crimson. She pushed them away. Tinkle tinkle. Little Crimson looked up. The face's mouth had opened and an odd tinkle was coming out of it. Soon both faces were tinkling. They smiled down at her and Crimson was flying. It was odd because she was upright. With a quick frown, she pushed away from the odd hands that were making her fly. She fell.

Star 5C - 9059, Auguste 29

"She's destined. She'll do great as a Crasher." That word again. Crimson had been hearing it ever since she could remember.

Looking around, she grabbed her mother, Dr. Cypher Mira, and said clearly, "Crasher".

Cypher looked at her wife and grinned. "We ought to tell her what it is."

"And maybe show her how to spell at the same time," Dr. Charcoal Mira added, nodding at her little 3-year-old girl on the blue rug, writing crashar again and again on the tablar.

"Crimson!" They called at the same time.

The little girl looked up and promptly ran over to her mother's lap. "Mommy! Look! I can wite!"

Cypher laughed. "C'mere, my star! I'll show you how to shine even brighter than you already do."

Crimson looked up in admiration. Only 3 years old and she already had shoulder-length, red, crimson hair. Quietly she settled down in her mother's lap.

"Once upon a star, a beautiful baby girl with crimson hair and dark navy blue eyes was born...." Crimson beamed,

"That's me!"

"Shhhh... Crimson let your mom tell the story." Charcoal chided. She looked at Cypher.

"Once upon a star, a beautiful baby girl with crimson hair and dark navy blue eyes was born," She began, "Her parents couldn't wait to find out their beautiful girl's future. The new technology the scientists of Star 5C had found was breathtaking, you see. It could predict the future jobs of mere children by just reading brain waves. The little baby girl's mother's doctor, Dr. J. Reins, was looking through the patterns of brain waves. Finally, he looked up and smiled, before uttering a single word. 'Crasher'.

The parents gasped with delight and started to pick up the young flame-haired child. But slowly, their grip slackened as they looked upon the child, and she fell." Crimson gasped. Of course, she remembered nothing from the moment, and her parents had only told the story once. But she knew all would be fine. Little baby Crimson had caught herself, ingeniously, even if she didn't know it. She had barely even one injury, although, as the story went, she had picked up a large amount of rug-shag in her small mouth. The happy family spent the rest of the evening spelling out crasher and laughing. Happiness had come into her life right then. Little Crimson vowed to become a Crasher at that moment.

She had never known though, that being a Crasher was the same as being the government's slave. She had never known that being a Crasher was giving up all her freedom. And she never knew, that the catching after falling, had been the first sign of her genius, and the government knew that too.

Star 5C - 9073, Octenfis 13

"Do you pledge to become a responsible Crasher and citizen?"

Crimson blinked and gulped. All the lights were disturbing her bonze scar cover's nervous system. It ran like a streak down her cheek, a constant reminder of the blunder with the soldering iron she had used when she was 4. She knew she should say yes. No matter how much she wanted to go out and explore - to go out and become a Lostaone, the family would always matter more. Her parents, her sister, they needed food too. If she left, they would be heartbroken, as well as starved. She wanted to say no, she wanted to say it so badly, but as she opened her mouth, a different word came out.

"Yes. Yes, I do." Her sister was sitting in the corner, her eyes full of admiration, but also understanding. This was not the first time that Crimson had been conflicted about her so-called destiny. Nor was it the first time little Rossetta had seen and been there for her. Being a Crasher meant risking your life every day, even if you weren't on the front lines. You would be testing, driving, and sketching, models of spacecrafts. Plenty of people had died on the job, but it was an honor to be a Crasher. Their mantra was 'For The Count.'

The Count was the man on the throne. He controlled everything. If he didn't like a single thing you did, you would be cast out, people would be forbidden to talk to you, and worst, you would be branded. A single star burned into your neck. In fact, most Lostones had used to be crashers, or otherwise had an encounter with the Count.

Crimson forced a sad smile at Rossetta, as the First Intelligence, the Count's right-hand-man, gave her an anklet. Crimson grimaced, everyone knew that despite the beautiful pattern burned into the anklet, there was poison in there. Not real poison perhaps, but it had powerful technology that would push lasers into your ankle if you tried to leave the orbit of Star 5C. Nevertheless, they were proof of being a Crasher, giving you a required discount from all vendors and/or sellers. Crimson put it on. It immediately clasped tight around her ankle.

She quickly walked out of the cold, windowless room, leaving her Transchat device inside. Birthday wishes and congratulations would have to wait, right now, all she could feel was pain and regret.

Star 5C 9078, Octenfis 13

"Must be fun being a Crasher" She heard the murmurings from the crowd as they watched her walk home. She opened the door, not caring about the flyers pinned all over it. She stepped over the jumbled documents, 3D Tablars, and Morph Tools, scattered all over the ground. Quickly, she grabbed the Birthday Cupcake off the table and munched down, kicking the door shut as she did. Being smart was hard. Being the head Crasher was hard. Today had been hard. Rough. No one noticed that she had turned 22. Oh well. Let them annoy her. No one could bother her in her StarFlat. Rossetta came in.

"Hey," she sat down at the table, "How was today?" Crimson made a face, and licked her cupcake once more, for good measure.

"Same old routine. Same old thing. It's not like anyone ever notices. No one ever gives me a cupcake like you." Rossetta giggled as she cleaned up the holographic build plans all over the floor. Crimson grinned, no one ever made her as happy as Rossetta did. She cleared her throat softly as she watched her little sister put together tools like puzzle pieces. Rossetta looked up.

"So... I know your birthday isn't for another week, but I thought it might be a good idea to show you something I've been working on." Rossetta looked disappointed. It was true the two sisters always celebrated their birthday together, even though Rossetta had been born 4 years and a week after her. Usually though, Crimson had better gifts, things that were tangible, things they could touch. Not something that was just for work. Plus, the Count never ordered or designed cool ships. Everything he had made was black or grey... pretty much just a bleak ugly ship. The only good thing about them was that they could go high speed. She never wanted to see one outside of work. But she followed Crimson through the mess and towards the back workshop. Slowly she started frowning. Nothing was there. Just a big mound of something (which she assumed was trash) hidden under a dirty white work tarp. Crimson cleared her throat dramatically, as Rossetta started to giggle at her sister's "surprise". Crimson stopped and glared. Rossetta fell silent as soon as she saw what her Crimson had been hiding under the tarp. A large, magnificent ship, brightly colored with streaks of light, seemed to glow as Crimson grinned. The large white glowing light shield that encased the ship was in the shape of a star. Then she whispered,

"Come on!", and pulled her little sister to the backside of the ship. Rosetta gasped... on the other side, there was something that had never been done before on a ship. A blue shimmering projection of one word... Lostar. Rossetta started to run towards the door, but Crimson held her back. "No, wait for a second... you'll see." Slowly, the word's "glitter" faded, but was replaced by, "We are only slaves of our own fear. You'll never know what's out there if you don't look." Rossetta's eyes started to get wet, it was what Cypher and Charcoal had always said. Her moms had been the best. Rossetta turned to Crimson,

"When did you start making this?" Crimson turned back sheepishly,

"About 4 years ago. After... yunno... the MasterLab burned down. After... they... you know... went out." Rossetta carefully examined her sister. Crimson was not the sentimental type. As long as Rossetta had been alive, Crimson had never cried. Not even when they had gotten the news that their moms had died. This... was new. Crimson wiped her eyes and looked determinedly at Rossetta. "Well, come on then! I didn't build this thing just for show! We're going to go out there and show those "Lostones" how it's done! Come on! Get in, I already packed our stuff." Rossetta looked up hesitantly. She rarely ever did the more physical job of a Crasher, the First Intelligence learned to steer her away from that when she had thrown up the first time. Instead, she would always sit at home, coming up with new ways to build, faster - stronger ways. But Crimson? She was the type that crashed, fell, and got back up again. This wouldn't be the first time one of her inventions failed. But Crimson's confident smile didn't even flicker as she held out a hand to help her only friend and family member of the Lostar. Rossetta grinned back and climbed up. The two walked around the inside, flicking switches, finally, Crimson grabbed a remote and pushed down on the red button. The roof hatch of the workshop opened up and the star-shaped ship soared out, leaving behind in its wake several awe-struck citizens. And if they had looked down on the ground of the workshop several miles behind them, they would still have seen shattered thorn anklets, the red lights laced with new gold strings of light. Their shackles were broken. Crimson and Rossetta Mira were free at last. But would they always be?