Shambhala, the Lost Paradise

By HC_Leung

Once upon a time, there was a planet named Shambhala. Located on the galaxy's edge, it was a mountainous and barren land. The gray dirt, which roamed for miles, had never nurtured life. Even as the human race settled across the Perseus Arm, this lonely globe of rocks remained serene and calm.

That was until the Dalits came. They were from the Empire's lowest caste, fleeing from religious persecution which had already killed trillions. Unbathed for years, they crash-landed on Shambhala with hope and despair.

The first week was full of surprises. The sky was often gray, filled with soot and fog. They also saw two suns - one larger than the other - and realized this place orbited the binary stars in a figure-eight pattern. Whenever the white giants draw near, Shambhala would jump from one orbit to another.

Which had the Dalits worried. This three-body movement was inherently chaotic; the dance should not have lasted for so long.  But based on the planet's latest orbital speed, Shambhala might miss the next Switchover. If so, the planet would end up drifting in space forever.

Nevertheless, the Dalits carried on. They worked the land and constructed their homes. As adept miners, they discovered water inside the rocks and made the most out of every drop. Life was hard, no doubt. But the Dalits shed no tears. They were resilient. They were free from the Empire.

The Switchover remained in their minds. They did not want their life's labor lost to some cosmic accident. So even though the next event was not due for another hundred years, the Dalits decided to act.

The Chief summoned her scientists. They discussed various options and settled on a plan. A bold plan. A plan that would involve them, their descendants, and their descendants' descendants.

Ships mothballed after the Exodus were refurbished into service. Those old, tired asteroid mining trawlers hauled earth out of the atmosphere and released them into space. By doing so, the Dalits hoped to reduce Shambhala's mass little by little, so it could orbit faster for the next Switchover.

The practice required faith. Indeed, it persisted for the next ninety years. Whenever Dalitian farmers see the trawlers flying over their paddy fields, they were reminded of the Chief's promise that Shambhala would become a paradise. The fruits of their labor would bless their descendants.

Aliessa Toumi thought differently. To her, this planetary weight loss program was nothing but a waste of time. Think about it. If God wanted this planet gone, nothing could change his mind. And why would he? God forced the Dalits to flee halfway across the Galaxy. He did not love them.

It was apparent, at least to her, that one must rely on her own strength. It was the only way to break free from the past. Aliessa looked at the sky, hazy with the suns hung high like an angel's eyes. Born and raised on Shambhala, she knew nothing about the blue oceans and green mountains told in her lullabies. But she knew her life belong out there, somewhere beyond the pale light.

Her radio handset crackled into life. "Ali, come in."

Aliessa frowned with annoyance. She tucked her long, wavy hair back and replied, "Yes, mother."

"Why aren't you at the clinic? Are you atop the hill daydreaming again?"

"No," said Aliessa. "I was just taking a break. Coming back now."

"I asked you to do one thing, Ali. One thing! All you had to do was to stick around and help the nurses. Why is it so difficult for you?"

"It was just a break, mother. It's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal when I'm the Chief. I've been a spiritual pillar for these people for the past 150 years. They look up to me. And since you're my daughter, everything you do reflects on me. Do you get it?"

"Yes, mother. I'm sorry. Coming back now for real."

"Don't bother. Head to sector 2A6G. Something fell out of the sky, it was so small our radar lost track. Probably dirt that fell out from the trawlers this morning. But we need to make sure no one got hurt. Go check it."

"Copy."

Aliessa hopped onto her hoverbike. She strapped on her helmet and dashed across the rocky land. Sector 2A6G had always been sparsely populated. The odds of seeing anyone there was one in a million. Still, no harm in paying a visit. Falling objects were a real risk - last year one of the trawlers malfunctioned and released its payload over farming lands.

The sector was quiet, nothing out of the ordinary. Then she saw something. A crater, maybe. As more of the smoldering debris came into view, Aliessa realized it was a crash site.

Of a starfighter. Followed by miles of cut open earth. Somewhere within the wreckage, there was a wing. It was painted with the Crescent Moon flag.

Aliessa could not believe her eyes. This flag - her people had not seen it since the Exodus.

It was the Empire's flag.

Back at the village, the Dalits had surrounded the clinic. Rumors were flying about the survivor's identity. Someone said he was part of the Empire's kill squad. After ninety years, their hideout had been discovered. Fear. Anxiety. The villagers were one step away from storming the clinic to exact mob justice.

The Chief stood in their way. She struck her cane on the ground and shouted, "Quiet! Ali is treating the man right now. There is nothing you can do except to go home and wait for further news."

The mob returned to their senses and unwillingly dispersed. The Chief headed inside the clinic. It was a small and basic facility.

Aliessa was peeling shock-absorbent gel off the man's skin. Those thick, tar-like substances were dispensed by the starfighter's safety restraint system to save the pilot. And indeed, the man suffered only light bruises and a broken rib. He was unconscious when the Chief walked in.

"How is he?" asked the Chief. "Is he able to talk?"

"The Empire Man needs to rest," Aliessa answered. "Give him time."

"Time is a luxury I don't have," said the Chief. "If he doesn't wake up soon and give me some answers, the villagers will come back with pitchforks. Get him ready, do you understand?"

"Yes, mother." But deep down, Aliessa had already made up her mind. She would do the right thing. She would let the man take his rest.

Aliessa applied a wet wipe on the man's cheek. She studied him: olive skin and a well-defined face. He did not look like a bad person. Also, it must have been traumatic to fall from a great height.

She found herself holding the unconscious man's fingers. Surprised, her hand squirreled away immediately. The Chief's daughter turned around. The two other nurses did not see her.

What the hell was I thinking?

The following day, Captain Imran Lee of the Imperial Navy Thirteenth Fleet, 103rd Tactical Fighter Wing, woke up and greeted Aliessa warmly. His eyes were gentle and accepting. It seemed like he knew her already.

Until he found his left wrist handcuffed to the bed.

"Thank you for saving me anyways," said Lee. He sipped hot water from a cup and looked out the window. "So this is the legendary Shambhala. I wonder why it's not in any of our maps."

"My mother led us here ninety years ago," said Aliessa. "So, did you come here to, you know, round us up?"

"Round you up?" Lee looked puzzled. "What does that mean?"

"To ex...exterminate us," Aliessa stuttered. "Because of who we are."

"Oh." Lee's mouth became trout-like when it dawned on him. "You mean the Purge. That's in the past. We have a new Emperor now. He's focused on economic development that benefits everyone. None of you people know this?"

"We haven't connected with anyone outside since planetfall."

"Makes sense," said Lee. "Well, I'm sorry for the way I showed up. I mean no harm."

"Then why are you here?" asked Aliessa. Her pupils were dilated and latched on to his. "I mean, I'd treat you as a guest if it was up to me. But my mother, she needs answers."

Imran looked down, overcoming the lump in his throat. He locked fingers with Aliessa for support. "My fleet was supposed to reach the Outer Systems and sign a peace treaty with the warlords there. But we got ambushed by a terrorist group who wanted the war to continue. My fighter starcraft got hit when the rest of my fleet escaped through hyperspace. I drifted in space for weeks until this planet lassoed me with its gravity field. Lucky me, huh?"

The villagers learned of his story. It took a while, but they eventually accepted his presence. Imran had no means of contacting the Imperial Fleet. He was cut off from the outside world like the Dalits.

A foreigner, stranded on an uncharted planet. It became his priority to blend in. Imran shedded his military uniform and worked the land with the locals. He also helped out at the clinic whenever time allowed. The process of adopting a new life was challenging. Fortunately, Aliessa was there for him every step of the way.

Over time, the two became inseparable. They held hands atop the hill, cherishing their quiet moments under the starry night. Aliessa would point at the rolling landscape beneath them and explain to him the Dalitian ways and customs. Imran, on the other hand, would point at the constellations and tell her stories of the Empire.

The Chief knew of their relationship.  She tolerated it, but the matriarch also made it clear that marriage was not an option. A Dalitian daughter never marries an outsider. It was a rule written by their ancestors.

So Imran and Aliessa obeyed her wishes. Despite their love for each other, they respected the boundaries between a man and a woman not yet tethered by marriage.

The Year of the Switchover finally came. The worst had happened - Shambhala failed to latch onto the secondary star and lost its orbit. It drifted from the system in a spiral trajectory, and the atmosphere dissipated into a trail of pink gas in the sky.

As the temperature plummeted, ice and frost blanketed the land. The two suns became smaller and smaller each day. The planet was dying, and so were the Dalits.

Aliessa reached her clinic to help those in need. She saw her mother talking to Imran. It was a solemn conversation. "This new Emperor, he is benevolent?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Imran.

"Then take my daughter to the Empire so she can lead a comfortable life."

"What about you? And your people?"

"A decision has been made," said the Chief. "We will stay. And you will ensure the Emperor writes down our history so we are never forgotten."

Unbeknownst to the young couple, the Dalits had salvaged the hyperspace drive from Imran's starfighter. They had been fitting that drive onto one of their existing trawlers. Today, that trawler was ready to fly.

"This is a difficult decision to make," said Imran.

"This is the best and only decision we can make," said the Chief.

Once Imran agreed to the task, the Chief moved on to the next order of business. "Imran Lee, do you take my daughter's hand in marriage, for better and worse, in sickness and in health, until death do you apart?"

Imran looked at Aliessa with the same warm and accepting eyes. "Yes, I do."

Before they embark on the journey, Aliessa Toumi gave her mother one last embrace. Covered in tears, she felt undeserving of grace. "I'm sorry for everything."

The Chief said gently, "I will always love you. So go on, carry our dreams, and let the universe know of the Dalits' proud history. From now on, you are the future of Shambhala."

Above the atmosphere, the trawler slit open a portal and darted into hyperspace. As the stars turned into streaks of light, Aliessa and Imran held each other as wife and husband. At that moment, in that solitude endowed by the universe, they finally had each other.