(Or: The Day the Clover Sang Opera)
The moment Kael fell asleep — slippers dimming to a smug, golden glow — Lyra stood in the center of the galley and cracked her knuckles.
“Phase Two,” she whispered.
Kessa froze mid?sip of tea. “Oh no.”
Jarin sighed. “Lyra…”
Lyra pointed dramatically at both of them.
“You two prank like artists— but I prank like a FORCE OF NATURE.”
The robot bee buzzed an ominous harmony.
Step One: The Setup
While Kael slept, Lyra raided the Clover’s storage lockers with the gleeful precision of a gremlin who knew exactly where everything lived.
She gathered:
- hologram modules
- sound transducers
- a handful of multicolored signal beads
- three rolls of luminous tape
- a portable speaker the size of her fist
- and, for no discernible reason, a plush star pillow
Kessa watched with an expression that alternated between horror and admiration.
“What are you planning?”
Lyra’s grin was feral. “I call it: The Symphony of Regret.”
Jarin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lyra—”
“No survivors,” Lyra whispered.
Step Two: The Execution
Lyra tip?toed (glowing slippers and all) to Kael’s bunk. He slept like a man finally at peace, dreaming of lanterns and quiet roads.
Perfect.
She gently placed the small speaker under his pillow. Attached the holo?module above the bunk. Strung luminescent tape around the edges of the viewport.
Then she slipped out without waking him — a skill all Hartleys, even the chaotic ones, somehow possessed.
Kessa whispered, “You’re a ninja.”
Lyra whispered back, “I’m a menace.”
Step Three: Wake-Up Call
HOUR 0:24
The Clover lights shifted to sunrise mode.
Kael stirred.
The speaker activated.
And suddenly—
The soft?lane quiet was shattered by dramatic space opera.
Not just any space opera.
A customized space opera.
Stolen story; please report.
Lyra’s voice — duplicated in four-part harmony — belted out:
“OOOHHH KAAAAAEL, SLEEPY CAAAAP-TAIN OF MIIIINE, ARIIIIISE FROM YOUR SLUM-BER, YOUR SLIP-PERS LOOK DIVINE!”
Kael bolted upright.
And hit his head on a holographic moon Lyra had hung overhead.
Kessa shrieked laughing. Jarin covered his mouth to hide a smile. The robot bee buzzed in rhythm.
The hologram module flickered to life, projecting a starry backdrop complete with twinkling constellations shaped like glowing slippers.
Kael, eyes wide, disoriented, hair shooting in six directions, croaked:
“…what is happening.”
The opera continued mercilessly:
“OHHHH RISE, YOU GRUMPY STARLING, YOU PILOT OF OUR HEARTS— PUT ON YOUR GLOWING FOOT-SHOES, THE DAY-LIGHT STARTS! THE DAY-LIGHT STARTS!”
Kael whispered, horrified, “Lyra.”
She leapt into the doorway like a chaotic stage performer.
“WELCOME TO REVENGE!”
Kael rubbed his face. “Lyra—why—”
She pointed dramatically.
“Because you framed me for chasing holographic lanterns! And because I SWORE VENGEANCE.”
The slippers on Kael’s feet brightened and began pulsing to the opera’s beat.
Kael looked down at them in betrayal.
“Oh no,” he whispered.
“Oh YES,” Lyra said triumphantly.
Step Four: Full Orchestration
Lyra snapped her fingers.
The Clover — who, for reasons entirely her own, had decided to participate — dimmed her overhead lights and switched on soft blue floor-lights like a concert stage.
Kessa fell to the floor laughing. Jarin shook his head but was definitely smiling.
Kael, slipper?lit, surrounded by swirling space?opera planets, groaned:
“Lyra… turn it off.”
Lyra gasped. “TURN IT OFF?!”
She threw her hands wide.
“This is my MASTERPIECE!”
“Lyra.”
“No.”
“Lyra—”
“IT HAS A BRIDGE!”
She pressed her wristband.
The opera intensified.
“KA?A?A?A?AAAAEL, HERO OF SOFT LAAAAANES, PRINCE OF CAUTIOUS-NESS, KING OF RESPONSIBLE PAAAAIN!”
Kael sat very still.
Very still.
Then he looked at Lyra with the calm, deadly serenity of an older brother who had hit his limit.
“Kessa,” he said softly.
“Yeah?” (Still giggling on the floor.)
“We’re retaliating.”
Kessa gasped. “YES.”
Lyra shrieked theatrically. “NO! YOU CAN’T RETALIATE, I HAVEN’T FINISHED—”
The Clover abruptly cut power to the speaker.
Everyone froze.
Lyra stared upward. “Clover! TRAITOR!”
The ship hummed smugly.
Ceasefire (Sort Of)
Kael stood slowly, slippers still glowing.
He walked straight toward Lyra.
She backed up.
“No no no—Kael I’m tiny and adorable—”
Kael scooped her into a hug and spun her twice, her slippers jingling.
Lyra shrieked laughing.
Kessa cheered. Jarin finally lost composure and laughed openly.
Kael set Lyra down. “You’re ridiculous.”
Lyra grinned. “You love it.”
Kael exhaled. “…Yeah. I do.”
Lyra leaned her forehead against his. “Truce?”
Kael glanced at Kessa.
Kessa raised both eyebrows.
“…Temporary,” Kael said.
Lyra threw up a peace sign. “I’ll take it!”
Jarin stepped forward, wrapping all three siblings into a giant, warm Hartley hug.
Even the Clover dimmed her lights affectionately.
In the middle of the hug, Lyra whispered:
“Just so you know… Phase Three is already planned.”
Kael groaned. Kessa squealed. Jarin sighed.
Lyra beamed.
“…This ship,” Kael muttered, “is never going to know peace.”
The Clover hummed in delighted agreement.