In the end, Derek’s departure from the solar system could very easily be called a flight.

  Granted, the delay in getting a slot in for one of the Mars catapults had slowed things down somewhat, but that had changed little about the fact that he was heading out there into the black as quickly as humanly (and magically) possible.

  “Quick” goodbye to his parents and siblings, fast travel to the Dragonfly, then spend the next few minutes with his eyes glued to the sensor readout, watching for Isaac or the twins showing up to do … something.

  It wasn’t like they were liable to do so, yet now that he was leaving … he was going to head off to do things by himself, for himself, beyond any place they were liable to be able to reach in time to do much of anything in an emergency.

  Though hopefully, things would remain relatively “normal” for the first few months, simply so he could grow into himself.

  The Dragonfly slowly drifted through space, heading towards one of Mars’ four catapults with its engines off and drifting at a tiny fraction of the speed it would usually have, practically crawling through space. Derek could have walked faster, and unlike most vehicle speed-related comparisons, that was actually entirely true.

  “Hey, you did remember to convert the operating budget into credits, right?” Atticus asked from his seat.

  Derek winced, taking an embarrassing amount of time to realize he had, in fact, done that.

  “Would have been a bad time to remember if I’d forgotten,” he finally replied, earning a laugh from the man, while Ye-in, who’d caught his hesitation, facepalmed.

  The currencies of the wider universe didn’t actually exist. Because there was only one, as had been intended from the start.

  Unlike the mess that was Earth’s finance, where almost all historical currencies continued to be in use, the politicians had seized the chance to create a single, solid, universal currency, and called it “Stellars.”

  A nice, self-explanatory, committee-approved name that rolled straight off the tongue.

  … so it had taken about five seconds for people to rename the currency to “credits,” and that had stuck, no matter how the politicians had begged, pleaded, and eventually even raged.

  Eventually, though, everyone involved had capitulated, especially after they’d finally realized just how embarrassing the whole affair was, when one considered they had an audience. Because this had happened after first contact had been made with the Koinians and no one wanted “throws hissy fits over the darndest things” to be one of the first things the aliens saw after they’d started properly observing humanity.

  Though by the standards of the Assai and Dromon, both humanity and the Koinians were categorically insane, their “standards” for what was normal were so radically different that they’d have to agree to disagree on far too many topics.

  But at least pretending the literally alien being you were talking to was nothing out of the ordinary would be a vital skill going forward.

  And ahead loomed the catapult, which looked nothing like its medieval namesake, an array of thirteen components floating to form a ring, each an elongated pentagram that looked as though someone had grabbed one of its points and pulled, stretching it out, together forming something uncomfortably reminiscent of a spiked crown that would not look out of place on any dark lords head.

  Oh, and any being capable of wearing this “crown” would be something like fifty kilometers tall … and wasn’t that an uncomfortable thought.

  Derek shook his head, as though that were enough to dismiss the random, unnerving tangents his mind tended to go on, then reached forward to tap the communications control set into the arm of his chair.

  They, like all other controls, could be folded in and out as needed, and were mirrored in all other chairs within the bridge, allowing them to each act in case of an emergency.

  “Catapult control, this is Captain Thoma onboard the Dragonfly. Are we cleared to proceed?” he asked.

  The response came instantly.

  “This is catapult control, you are clear to proceed.”

  It was also accompanied by a text-based query asking him to confirm their destination, which Derek promptly did, while Atticus guided the ship in.

  One final communcation came in from the control station, one final confirmation that yes, they were sure, and their ship was compatible with this method of transport, went back, and ten seconds later, the Dragonfly finally reached a point in the dead center of the array.

  The actual activation came and went so quickly Derek failed to even notice while it happened, reality simply stuttered, the ship trembled in a way that had nothing in common with it physically shaking as the catapult attempted to crush them down into nothingness, to compress them down into a single dimension, a state in which neither the vessel or its crew could survive for even a nanosecond …

  It was as though the universe itself were caught undecided, the energy of the catapult attempting to wipe them from existence, the defenses of the ship preventing just that form happening, a single hearbeat of paradoxical chaos seeming to stretch into eternity … and then the universe either made its decision, or lost control of the situation.

  Either way, the “paradox” was resolved in the same predicatble manner it always was, the Dragonfly emerging back into normal space, 47.9 light years from the solar system, a single light second from the local catapult.

  A quick conversation with the control station later, their planned time slot and target were confirmed, and barely ten minutes later, the universe rocked again, once more planting them within a wholly new star system, where the process repeated.

  Again and again, a total of six jumps and little over an hour later, the Dragonfly emerged just outside the heliosphere of the Chimera system.

  The catapult chain that connected Sol to Chimera had been rather expensive, but thankfully deemed necessary by the powers that be, which made that journey quite easy.

  And the way here, Derek looked over the various Aspect [Skills] he’d gained from slotting the full FTL complement, once more glad he’d cut the descriptions down to the bare minimum.

  Those belonged to the Lord of Time and Space, while the next set stemmed from the Void Dragon.

  And finally, there was the Cosmic Leviathan.

  A whole lot of very expensive abilities, but he’d gain the ability to use them in time.

  [Star’s Heart] largely fixed the aging problem, [Wings of the Void] made flying in space realistic, even if his stats were too low to go very fast, the various spatial abilities from the Lord of Time and Space made just about everything easier, though Derek had a distinct feeling [Cosmos Soul] had been responsible for the catapult jumps feeling so weird.

  The ones of import were the ones that combined to form [Alcubierre Bubble], those being [Wings of the Void], [True Spatial Warp], [True Spatial Affinity], [Stellar Travel] and [Charging to Infinity].

  But he’d only get FTL once he actually used it, and that required him to get free from the sun’s zone of interference, which would have to wait until they were at their destination.

  Though he’d already arranged for their final jump to be a couple of light-days short, so they could each take turns taking the ship FTL, something made easy by the fact that the Dragonfly’s enchantments not only made it possible for a single person to jump the entire ship, but also allowed for the burden of keeping it at FTL speeds to be handed off to others without first dropping down into the regular universe … as long as the handoff did not take more than ten seconds. But that could be dealt with by anyone with even a modicum of intelligence and planning ability.

  But yeah, he had everything, including the mana potion he’d need just this first time, because making this happen without the complete [Skill] was, er, expensive.

  He looked around.

  “Ready?”

  “Yep,” Ye-in grinned.

  “Ship’s ready,” Mimi added.

  “I mean … I don’t think there’s anything to crash into out here,” Atticus announced with a shit-eating grin.

  Rolling his eyes, Derek summoned the [Wings of the Void], leaning forward in his chair to avoid crushing the twin bat’s wings that errupted from his back, instantly feeling a strange sense of resistance against them, oddly ethereal, as though it would only “engage” when he wanted to.

  [Charging to Infinity] was the next to trigger, the mana cost hitting him like a punch to the gut, as the enchantments in the Dragonfly’s hull glommed onto the [Skill] and dragged the entire, multi-thousand-ton starship along.

  [Stellar Travel] stacked with it an instant later, his mana already three-quarters empty …

  Derek janked the potion bottle up, cap already off, and downed it in a single gulp, mana shooting skyward while his natural regeneration was practically zeroed out and he activated the final active component of this circus, reaching out with [True Spatial Warp] to grasp space ahead, as much as he could touch, and crush it down into a single plane … at which point the world ahead shattered, replaced by a swirling mess of blue … and a [Skill] description.

  Derek tore his eyes away from the status screen and instead stared into the main viewscreen, taking up the entirety of the far wall, leaving him feeling as though he were staring out into space … or rather, the mess of twisted reality now surrounding the Dragonfly, space ahead glowing blue, shading into purple as it fell towards the sides, and Derek knew the bubble behind the ship would be aburning crimson, the glow interspersed with black and white streaks, the regular universe turned into a chaotic mess he wasn’t entirely sure he liked looking at …

  “I mean, at least the red part is behind us,” Atticus commented with a cheerfulness that felt forced. “That way this doesn’t feel like the Immaterium.”

  “Huh?” Derek asked.

  “It’s from some old sci-fi series that dad’s into. Basically defined ‘grim-dark’ as a term. Immaterium is their equivalent of hyperspace, and it’s basically hell.”

  Derek winced. Using a shortcut through ‘basically hell’ as your method of going FTL certainly put the ease of use of [Alcubierre Bubble] into perspective, didn’t it?

  Anyway … he was running out of mana, so he quickly cancelled the [Skill], and the swirling mess outside was replaced by the familiar black of the “normal” universe.

  “Who wants to fly the ship next?” he asked.