Ruminations of a Survivor

[AuruemSaber]

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The trip to Skagen has proven itself so far to have been nothing but dust and abandoned constructs so far, I can feel the dust against my skin where I had thought my armour well fitted, it finds gaps in my defence, and spreads like wildfire. Yet I still pushed on, refusing to let the discomfort spawned by the dust deter me from my mission.

The data pulled from Aspen's flight recorder led us here. Underneath a massive series of large geometric shapes that rise off into the skyline. Our entry into the underground provided by an old platform the Core left abandoned, which seems to match what I heard from her logs.

As we descend deeper into the underground, I am confronted with more and more alien sights that I struggle to make sense of, not like I had much of a chance if it all stumped even Aspen. But we're not here to answer that question I remind myself as we follow the trail of expired chem-lights, tracing what I have to guess were her steps. I keep my eyes peeled for anything that sounds like what she described in her journal whilst me and Alex keep our weapons raised, sweeping to ensure that this place is as dead as it seems and that we are the only one's here.

The ceiling above us stretches further than our helmets lights can reach, and I realise at this depth it must have been a challenge for the Core to maintain their communications with any of the underground expeditions.

As we push downwards and through the corridors, I see diamond-shaped containers that have been cracked open—ones that look like what I saw when Kristoff took me to the "Gardens". This unnerving realization reminds me just how deep this mess is and how far I am from the simplicity of a war against a conventional enemy.

We make it to the door Aspen described in her audio logs. And I thank my lucky stars it's still open, and that Alex hasn't heard the logs. I don't know how I would even begin to explain her gift to him.

We keep pushing until we reach what I swear looks like a shrine. Alex covers my back as I inspect the area before finding a slot. The measurements I take seem to line up with the the one's from the scan Hemlocke's man managed to dig up and I take care to ensure my helmet camera gets a good view of it all. So far it all proved to be a simple affair that reaffirms my initial thought that I could have done this alone.

Of course, as I'm about to turn around to leave, Alex decides to let his rifle hang on his waist before cracking open a chem light and taking off his helmet to look me dead in the eye. Clicking off the white light on my helmet, I stare at him as I wait for the inevitable conversation he wants to get into. I can already feel the frustration building up, and I prepare myself for a shouting match amid a dead alien city.

"I'm sorry, Becks."

Or not. The look on Alex's face takes me back to our childhoods, that twinge of shame as he struggles to hold eye contact with me for more than a few seconds before his gaze shifts down towards the floor. It was precisely the same thing I saw when he stayed with me and Jason during the aftermath of another of his mother's episodes. Guilt, guilt for failing to live up to impossible expectations from a totalitarian bitch. I remember how much it pissed me off back then to see him feel guilty for things he couldn't control. For not being able to live up to that crazy cunt he called a mother's expectations.

I'm speechless, wondering if I am any better than her now. Are my expectations of people utterly unrealistic, and am I now the crazy one? It's a painful thought that gets cut off.

"I wasn't the friend I should've been after the war."
"I shouldn't have assumed things would be how we left them despite the time since Yuma."
"Not when asking you for help with the Oz thing."

I've never been more appreciative of my helmet's tinted visor in my life because I'm not sure I could look Alex in the eye after that, not with how many details I've left out about this entire situation. I can't deny that despite it all, I did kind of enjoy his company on the trip up. Even if this entire "mission" turns up bust, if this hatchet between me and Alex gets buried here, maybe that'd be my silver lining.

"Just... forget about it, Alex."
"I didn't try to stay in touch either."
"It was..."
"Things were fucked up then; we all had to adjust."

"Alright."
"But uh, why me and not Jason?"
"He's family after all."

"That's..."
"That's not me holding a grudge there, Alex."
"It's something more complex."
"And it's something I wouldn't-"
"I... I don't want you to have to hold that weight as well."

Alex's silence was telling. He stared at me, his face crunching with concern. Much like how this "shrine" is buried, I realise now that my own buried secret may very well become an issue, and I myself fall silent. I desperately grasp for the words needed to try and explain it to Alex without shouldering him with a horrible burden, the same one I forced onto Jason's friend Rodrigo. I struggle to actually speak the words once I think of them, but despite it I do eventually manage to get them out.

"Something he doesn't know."
"And I can't explain it without you having the burden of my dilemma."
"So look, if that means you've gotta' back, Jace."
"I get it, no hard feelings."

Alex looks uncomfortable. I half expect him to curse me out, but he finally nods before raising his right hand in a fist and holding it outstretched. I'd be concerned, but I can't help but notice the classic Lynchie grin as he says just one word.

"Mates?"

I can't help but smile as I raise my hand and gently tap it against his fist.

"Always."
"But I'd rather be mates somewhere else; this place is losing its charm."

Alex laughs before putting his helmet back on, and we begin on the return path. Our weapons hung low, and it was clear that this place was dead. As we trekked back up and out onto the surface, and back to where we hid the Skyline, we traded thoughts about the ruins or random crude jokes. It felt good having Alex back, and as much as I hate to say it, I'd missed these moments.

And even if I could have done it alone, truth be told the company was vastly appreciated. Almost as appreciated as the shower I plan on taking once we get off this dead rock and back to more civilized space will be.

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