On the eve of war, a Navigator is suddenly thrust into the path of the humans. Caught between a centuries-old lie and her own discoveries, Endora must reconcile her duty to her home and her yearning for the far reaches of space. A classical science fiction story about duty and trusting your own instincts.
Endora Toinette stood before her reflection in the bathroom mirror, wondering if this was all life had installed for her. She had been born on her home world, Plaxes, and joined the academy to hone her natural skills in space flight. But she wanted more; she wanted freedom and a life away from the monsters that controlled this ship. But she could not do that. She was a Navigator.
Travelling through slipstream was dangerous and without a Navigator to guide them any ship ran the risk of running into a planet, asteroid or sun. The Plaxians’ had remedied this hazard by allowing one of their citizens to travel on alien ships and make instant changes to its flight path. With the capability to project their mind several light-years ahead of the vessel, they could see dangers and make the appropriate course change. In the two-thousand year history of using the Plaxians’, not one single starship succumbed to its doom.
Endora waved her hand over the sink and it began to fill with water. She made a cup with her gentle hands and washed the cool liquid over her soft face. She sighed as she felt the crystals of water trickled down her face and finally strolled over to the cabinet to pick up her headband. The gold leafed circlet, called the ‘Spirit of Wings,’ was a religious symbol for her race indicating she was a fully-fledged Navigator capable of guiding ships through slipstream. She looked at the pair of wings that symbolised flight and she slowly slipped the band into her purple hair, resting the wings above her ears. An emerald jewel heightened her abilities as it glowed faintly on her forehead.