Yesterdays tomorrow, p.1
Yesterday's Tomorrow, page 1
Copyrighted Material
Yesterday’s Tomorrow Copyright © 2026 by Variant Publications
Book design and layout copyright © 2026 by JN Chaney
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved
No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing.
1st Edition
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
TERMS
Technology
Organizations
Locations
Other Terms
Join the Conversation
Connect with J.N. Chaney
About the Author
For my son,
James Kirk Chaney.
May you boldly go.
CHAPTER 1
“This is the greatest thing I have ever tasted,” Mel said as she held a greasy double cheeseburger in her hands.
The burger was perfectly smashed, dripping with cheese and enough cholesterol to drop a man twice her size.
We sat together at the counter in my uncle’s diner, surrounded by the musty smell of lard and coffee that had been baked into the walls over decades. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting everything in that warm, nostalgic glow that made you forget what year it was.
And honestly? I was happy to have it.
I’d worked here for years, flipping patties and scooping up coins from the arcade machines in the back. Maybe it was the nostalgia talking, but I found myself missing this place more and more the longer I stayed away. There was something grounding about it. Something real.
Out there, in the black, everything moved at light speed. Here? Time seemed to stand still.
“A woman who knows how to eat.” Uncle Mike gave Mel a curt nod of approval. He leaned over the counter, pointing a greasy finger right at my nose. “Your mom’s right, kiddo. She’s way out of your league.”
I winced.
Mel gave a sheepish laugh and wiped her hands with one of the little rectangular white napkins, preparing herself for another bite. “I heard you had killer coffee here, too,” she said, smoothly pivoting the conversation.
A flawless execution of a diversionary tactic.
“Only the greatest in the galaxy.” Uncle Mike straightened his back with a sense of pride. “What’ll you have with it? Creamer? Half and half?”
“Just black, please.” Mel took another massive bite. “For a small town, this place isn’t too bad, Mike. Got yourself a real nice setup here.”
My uncle smiled. “You got it, little lady. And thanks. His old man and I put it together years ago. Been an Avon Park mainstay ever since.”
He made his way over to the coffeemaker, which, aside from the occasional splash of water, hadn’t had a cleaning in years.
A drop of grease landed on Mel’s jacket. “Shoot,” she mumbled, looking down at the stain.
A waitress named Penelope—she was a new hire since I’d been here last—quickly grabbed a handful of napkins and held them out. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” Mel took them.
The woman smiled, and her eyes drifted down to Mel’s jacket. “Also, can I just say that you are working that retro outfit.”
“She’s right!” said another customer who was sitting right behind us in a different booth. “Those old vintage looks are back in style now, I hear.”
Mel looked at them with a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you?”
The customer scribbled her signature on her check, then got up and walked toward the door. “Ya’ll have a good one, alright? See you later, Mike.”
“Later,” he replied with a short nod
Mel waited for Penelope to walk away before she turned to me. “Is this retro?” she asked, gesturing to her outfit.
Her windbreaker looked like a neon rainbow had exploded on the fabric. The purple scrunchie from her high ponytail reminded me of those workout videos where the instructor wore tights and a leotard and bounced around to synthesizers and drum machines.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. My daily outfit consisted of whatever clean shirt I could find in my closet. I was certainly no fashion icon myself. “I don’t follow trends. Some of them are downright weird. But I think you look great.”
“And is working an outfit meant to be a compliment or an insult?” She frowned. “Are they saying I look like I work here?”
I chuckled. “It’s slang. It means you look good. That you’re oozing confidence, or something like that.”
“Alright,” Mel said. “I guess it’s good then.”
“I think the 80s equivalent would be gnarly,” I joked. “Or radical.”
“I haven’t heard a single person say either of those since I got back,” she explained. “Outside of cartoons.”
“Oh yeah, like in the Ninja Turtles show. That was… what? 1987? Did you ever watch that?”
She said nothing and just kept staring at her outfit with a frown.
“Hey.” I pointed at her food. “Still got some burger left there.”
She smiled and nodded. “Right, right. Can’t let it go to waste.”
Mel was, for better or worse, a woman out of time. Her ship had crashed on a remote moon, and she’d been stuck in suspended animation for forty years. The entire world had moved on without her. Now, she was awake and trying to navigate a galaxy that had left her behind.
Or if not a galaxy, then a planet. It was 2026 now. All the things she thought she understood about our culture were long gone, or at the very least, considered outdated or “retro.”
That’s why I’d brought her here today. Between that and the trauma of seeing her old friend Clint resurrect and, by all accounts, go absolutely insane, it stood to reason that she could use a break. If nothing else, maybe she’d feel at home again in a place like this.
“Do I really dress weird?” She pouted, glancing down at her jacket.
“I like the way you dress,” I said honestly.
She narrowed her eyes. “That didn’t answer my question.”
Before I could dig myself into a deeper hole, my uncle emerged from the back, holding a steaming mug of coffee. “Here you go. World’s best sludge, served black.” He set it down in front of Mel.
“Thanks.” She wrapped her hands around the mug.
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
That was a rare occurrence. I didn’t have much of a social life these days. After all, how can you when you’re serving in an alien flight squad, stationed billions of miles from home, fighting against the greatest threat intergalactic space has ever known?
“It could be Rylos,” Mel said, wiping her mouth with another napkin. Her tone had suddenly shifted. She was more serious now, her eyes focused on my cell.
My uncle gazed down at the screen from across the counter. “Well, don’t just sit there. Answer it.”
“Okay, relax.” I slid my finger across the screen. “Hello?”
“Mark, I am so sorry to interrupt your day off,” Agatha said through the line.
She was the AI who’d administered my initial Slinger assessment all those months ago. Back then, I didn’t even know I was being recruited into the Nova Corps. I’d just called the phone number on the back of an old comic book for fun, not expecting anyone to pick up.
Here I was in the same diner, talking to the same AI, but now—
“Is everything okay?” I asked, already predicting the answer. She never called without a reason, and it was always important.
“I’m afraid not,” Agatha said, her voice steady as usual. “You and Slinger Iona have new orders. You’re both to report to Rylos Station immediately.”
I glanced over at Mel, who was already setting down her coffee. She could read the situation better than anyone.
“Alright then,” I said. “Let them know we’re on our way.”
Mel devoured the rest of her burger in one last bite so massive that her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. “Lesh do thish.”
“Alright, we’ll be there soon,” I told Agatha, then quickly hung up the phone and slid out of my seat.
“Leaving already?” my uncle said. “Think you’ll be back anytime soon?”
He wasn’t a stranger when it came to the Nova Corps, much like my own mother. My dad had died in the last war as a Slinger, and my family had kept it a secret. I’d only found out recently, but that was fi ne. There was relief in knowing what he’d done and that I’d found my way into the same career.
After my mom admitted to me that my dad was a pilot, she’d called my uncle over to the house. He told me the truth, that he was here when my dad left for the war, that he knew Samuel and Clint, and that he’d known where I’d actually gone when I up and disappeared from my job.
It was a relief, I supposed, to have him and my mom in on the secret at last. Even though they’d kept it from me for so long.
Still, I hated to leave now. It was already bad enough that I didn’t visit Earth as often as I should have. The last thing I wanted to do was make my mom and uncle worry about me.
“Be careful out there,” Mike said, his voice softer now. He placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it once, then a small smile crept up on his lips. “Make sure you come back home soon, okay? We’ll be right here waiting for you.”
I nodded. “I will.”
“You two want me to pack you up some to-go bags?” he asked.
“We’d love it, but we have to report in soon.” I glanced at the door.
“Thank you so much, Mike,” said Mel. “This place is amazing, and you have great taste in games. I’ll be back for sure!”
Outside, a familiar DeLorean sat parked right in front of the doors.
“Good thing we brought the car,” said Mel.
The vehicle gleamed under the streetlights, its metallic surface reflecting the neon glow of the diner’s sign. I’d only seen this car a handful of times, but every time I did, it reminded me of the day Samuel had picked me up from Earth.
We slid into the DeLorean, and the engines roared to life. The entire car shook violently around us, the familiar hum of the tachyon generator vibrating through the seats.
I tapped the button next to the ignition, and the middle dash transformed into a control panel, glowing with holographic readouts and navigation data.
“Take us up, Agatha.” I gripped the wheel. “Time to head home.”
The DeLorean lifted off the ground and hovered briefly before the thrusters kicked in. The world outside blurred as we shot into the sky, leaving the diner behind in a streak of light.
Mel glanced over at me, her expression unreadable. “You think it’s something bad? Another invasion?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But if they’re pulling us back without any warning, it’s not good.”
She nodded, her jaw tightening. “Then let’s make sure we’re ready.”
The stars stretched out before us as we left Earth’s orbit. Soon, the Tannhauser Gate loomed in the distance, a massive ring of light and energy waiting to swallow us whole.
I took a deep breath.
“Here we go.”
CHAPTER 2
My squad found us in the corridor shortly after we landed on Rylos Station.
“How was your visit to Earth? Did you have fun doing Hume things?” Fynn asked, his color-changing skin rippling with shades of curious blue and green.
I grinned. “I got to take a few bites of the best burger in the galaxy before we had to rush back here.”
“Few bites?” Mel interjected. “I finished mine. You barely got through half.”
“Because we had to hurry out of there,” I protested.
Fynn crossed his arms, and his tentacles twitched as his eyes darted between me and Mel. “You two still aren’t eating leaves?”
“Burger,” Teak started. Her floppy ears perked up behind her ever-present Ray-Bans. “That’s the one made from that strange animal with the udders, right?”
“Cows,” I said. “They’re called cows.”
Di also stood beside his twin, although it was not the same Di I had met when I first arrived here. The Ouisa were a hivemind, and this Di was just another of its many bodies. One of nine hundred and ninety-nine, to be exact. The Ouisa had sent this one because he so closely resembled the last Di, but there were little differences: a small ridge on his neck where there had been none before, a bump on his forehead, a misplaced spot on his neck. Still, they had given him a name that only we would call him. We, the people with singular minds.
And it was appreciated, even though it was hard to see this Di in the same way. But we would go on calling him by it, because the truth was, as I had learned, they were all the same person, and their many shared minds had come to care for each of us. After a while, I had even begun to think of him as Di. Most of the time.
“And they’re aware of this?” Mia asked. “Of consuming poor nutrition? They know it is bad for them?”
Lanz walked up beside her, a look of disgust on his face. “Yes. Humes are fully aware of this fact, yet still, they willingly choose to consume trash.” He glanced in my direction. “Categorically uncivilized creatures.”
“Yeah, we are,” Mel said without missing a beat. “But once you taste a burger, or better yet, a slice of pizza, your life will never be the same.”
Aron chuckled. “If you say so, but it’s still no substitute for a nice bowl of sliced fish sprinkled over a bed of polidon eggs.”
“Polidon?” I asked. “What’s that? Sounds like a Pokémon.”
Mel turned to me and furrowed her brow. “What’s a Pokémon?”
Right. She wouldn’t get that reference. Forty years of missing time would do that.
“It’s from a game,” I told her. “Or a show. Both, actually. I’ll explain later.”
We made our way to the hangar bay a few minutes later.
Axon Squadron had arrived first, their leader Kira standing in front of them, keeping them in line. Soon came Hydros and Eros Squadrons—less practiced compared to Axon, but all formidable pilots in their own right. I’d review their big missions when I had downtime.
All of the Kin’s top-performing squadrons in one hangar.
That was never a good sign, but neither was getting called in like this all the way from Earth.
Soon, the other squads had all formed their own little pockets, waiting around to find out what was going on.
The casual banter died the moment we heard a familiar, booming voice in the hangar. “Squads, line up!” shouted Flight Master Davás.
He took flight from the catwalk above the bay and landed a short distance from me, slamming his talons into the metal flooring. It used to make me flinch because it was so loud and jarring, but now I barely registered it.
“As we speak, an Ascendancy frigate is currently attempting to capture a Slinger squadron.”
The Slide used to be our major advantage over the Ascendancy. The Kin had developed Tachyon Field Generators—Slingers usually referred to them as Rubik’s Cubes—and they were what made Novae travel faster than light. It was the technology that gave us the element of surprise, the ability to strike where the enemy least expected.
It was also the reason Mel was still alive.
When her Nova had crashed on that distant moon forty years ago, her Rubik’s Cube had created a time bubble that kept her suspended until Fynn and I found her. Years had passed, but to her it was less than a second. Without that, she’d have died long before we arrived.
The Ascendancy used to rely solely on Tannhauser Gates for faster-than-light travel. Fixed points in space, predictable and slow to deploy. The Kin didn’t always know when they’d launch their attack, but they knew where it would come from.
That advantage was slowly going away.
“Even though they now have access to FTL travel, they have yet to master it,” Davás continued. “Time is of the essence. The longer we wait, the closer they get to unlocking its full potential. And if we don’t act now, we risk losing our comrades to the enemy, so I need each of you in a ship.”
He paused, letting his words sink in.
“We’ve programmed the coordinates into your Novae,” he said. “Let’s move!”
The hangar erupted into motion.
I sprinted toward my ship, my heart already racing. I climbed up to the cassette and jumped inside. The plunge was quick, and once the Fruit Punch—or ferrofluid—filled my nose, I finally took a deep breath and activated my engines.
It was cold at first. Always was. But within seconds, my body adjusted. The neural interface kicked in, and suddenly I wasn’t just in my Nova—I was my Nova.
We took off from the landing deck in pairs, every ship moving in perfect sync thanks to countless prior efficiency drills. We poured out into the black like a swarm of angry hornets, pissed off and ready to sting.
