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[MiniKitty]

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And one day you enter your gunboat and won't come home again.

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One of the risks of visiting other stations or worlds is that they all have different environments. Some stations are kept cold by their supercoolant loops, others are under steady heat because of smelters and other kinds of factories. The air on freeports usually comes with some texture and freshness because of their biodomes and hydroponics, while other stations keep the air sterile. On Ithaca, the air was more like on Pittsburgh. Dusty, almost toxic. Unfiltered.

At first, I was afraid that I inhaled too much of it and got myself poisoned. Or maybe I touched some dirty wall covered in a layer of bacteria from an unknown world. My entire body was shaking and even in clothes, I felt incredibly cold while sweating at the same time. My muscles became sore and weak, and moving got more difficult, exhausting and uninviting. I had to sneeze over and over again, to the point where it hurt my spine as all my muscles tensed up to shoot spit, mucus and bacteria out of my body.

I told Madeleine to stay away, and she called for a medical robot to help me. The den must have looked as pristine as never before when precisely one medical robot from the Cryer vet service arrived to scan me. It did not take long until the horrifying diagnosis was revealed.


I have a cold.


No space-bacterial infection, no exotic virus, no poisoning. Just a cold. I guess my immune system is quite good, considering I never had a cold before. Maybe it is the Synth Paste-only diet, or maybe growing up on Pittsburgh boosted my body's internal defenses. For all I know, I was never sick in the mines, and I was never sick after leaving the planet. This is a new experience to me, and I do not like it.

When Monique found out I got sick, she decided to sleep in Kristoff's room. He is not on Denver anyway, doing who-knows-what in Kusari. I have not heard anything from him since he sent me to return his stolen ship. I did that, told him, and still nothing. Starting to get worried. If I was not bound to the bed, I would have tried to find out more. But like this, even thinking is a chore.

I am stuck here, in bed. I cannot breathe through my nose, so I breathe through my mouth. I hear my own breathing like that. I hear the music from downstairs. The voices of the people there. Occasional laughter, rarely someone gets louder in jest and banter. Monique does that, too.

Madeleine enters the bedroom, gifting me her idle gaze for a moment before marching over to the balcony door to open it wide. It is afternoon in David's Hollow, quite warm outside with a nice breeze. I can hear the rustling of the leaves. Perks of living in a smaller town on Denver. The blue flusters and other birds are chirping their songs. With the door wide open, the wind made the curtains float lightly. Being overly sensitized, I immediately felt the wind on my sweaty face and shuddered.


Cold!

It's quite stuffy in here.
A bit of fresh air won't kill you.

I am literally shaking, Madeleine!


But she keeps the door wide open. I did not see it, but Mika must have waddled right after her, got on the balcony and jumped up the railing. The little cat loves sitting in the flower pots to sunbathe. And occasionally nibbling on Monique's herbs.

Madeleine moves over to the cabinet and slips out of her black skirt. Her top drops to the floor, too. Then everything else. As she enters the bed and gets under the blanket, I open my mouth, intending to ask her if that is a good idea. But she is always wrapping herself around me. She carefully shifts her weight on her knees and elbows, trying to not make it hard for me to breathe. Nevertheless, her chest puts some weight on mine. Not enough to make breathing harder, though.

She burrows her face in my neck. Her voice is muffled.

Still cold?

No, that is actually quite warm.

Good.

Should you not stay away from me?

In the worst case, I'd get a cold, too.

And then you would be sick and infect me again.

Meaning we'd be in a perpetual loop of keeping each other in bed.
Just not the way we'd would want it.

The warmth of her body was helping, but also kind of restricting. The fresh air mixed with the scent of her thin body, her perfume and her shampoo. If I was not wrecked like this, it would be quite romantic, if not sexy. Her lower body is brushing against mine, but without a reaction. I am quite worried that I could be smelly from sweating all day, but I guess she either does not mind or I am still fine.

I guess everyone has forgotten about us, huh?

What do you mean?

The Sentinels, Caliban, the Rogues, the Technocrats.
They either forgot about us, or they really suck at killing us.

I am not sure if they forgot about us, but I guess they do not care. We are too small.

Have you killed anyone lately?

You make it sound like that is something I occasionally do.

Well, to the best of my knowledge, you killed a bountied pirate and got famous for it.
And then you blew up an entire Rogue destroyer and saved an LPI ship. That kind of makes you a murderer. A killer.

Rahm was self-defense, and the Capitalist was a response to a distress call.

Levan, you wanted those Rogues dead.
That's why you killed them.

I does not matter, does it? The bad guys died. I won.

Yeah.

For a while, nobody said anything.


What are you thinking about?

I know that pilots have a different set of psychology than the average human.
The threshold for people to kill each other over different opinions is ridiculously lower in space.
Rebecca tried to kill you over you ignoring her.
Caliban tried to kill you because he somehow thought you lied to him.
Revenant tried to get you killed because you influence Kristoff.

I am wondering when you become like that. Unless you are already.

You think I could become like that?

Wouldn't be surprising, with the amount of rage you hide.
You got abused and mistreated for many years.
And whenever you leave the planet, you get mistreated and abused again, now by those people.
They wanted to kill you over miniscule things.
They feel powerful behind shields and armor and guns.
From what I can tell, they all are a bunch of edgelords, trapped in spirals of hatred.
They don't feel regret over murder because they don't see who they murder.

And you don't feel regret over murdering those Rogues.
How many people are on a destroyer?
A hundred?
I know you feel good about it.
I know I feel good about it, too.
Those were bad guys.
Rogues are bad guys.

Just... I wonder where this leads to, for you.

I do not think I will become like them. Look, I am not a knight in shining armor. I do not care about good and bad. I know that those Rogues could have gotten a problem for us at some point, and that destroying the Brutal Capitalism was the right call.

Could've gotten.

That is my point, Levan.
You chose to kill people out of a likeliness.
I don't disagree with that, but how many times are you going to be forced to make this kind of call?

That is just how space is. It is unfair, and you cannot get around making these kinds of calls. Everyone is armed to the teeth in space. These Rogues have no backbone, no morals and no regrets. Whenever I get the opportunity to kill them, without putting myself into too much risk, I will.

... I was afraid you would say that.

Hours passed. This conversation was over, and eventually, we fell both asleep. I open my eyes again as the sun is going down. Madeleine's weight is making breathing difficult, so I push her off me. Kind of difficult, with both of her hands under my T-shirt and her legs intertwined with mine. Being all weakened does not make it any easier. Under great efforts, however, I get her to lay at my side. Only now I realize she is awake and stares at me.


I thought you were sleeping.

I wasn't.

You have been awake this entire time?

You've given me a lot to think about.

... did I fuck up?

No, you didn't.

So, uhm, we are still cool?

Yeah. I guess I just have to live with the idea that one day you enter your gunboat and go out there to kill people.
And one day you enter your gunboat and won't come home again.
Not the first time I needed to think about it.
Had to imagine it a few times, when you didn't come home.

I ask myself where you are.
And whether you are still alive.
Or whether you are chasing Kris again.
Only to get sent away by him to fetch his stolen ship.
And then he isn't around to take care of you when you are sick.
Or maybe you are flirting with other women.
Or you are busy killing people.
Or you got killed.

And then you show up again, and my concerns disappear for the time being.
And I look in your pretty face and kiss you, like this.

She kisses me. I feel bad for probably having bad breath. Her knee is between my legs. One of her hands moves down to my rear.

And then we do all the things I want to do with you.
And all the things you want to do with me.
And for a few hours I feel as happy as I could ever be.
All my needs are covered, and I have you, and everything is exciting.
Even now. So cute, and pretty.

Once again she gets ontop of me and leans in for more kisses. Maybe resting helped me recover a bit. There certainly is a reaction this time.


... Madeleine-

Fairness is a concept that does not exist in nature.
It is an illusion that helps naive people to cope with living.
There is no karma.
I could complain about how unfair it is that, one day, I could lose you.
Wouldn't change anything.
Can't stop you from setting a foot on that ship.
Can't stop you from chasing after Kris.
Can't stop you from finding new ways to piss off people over miniscule things.
Can't stop them from trying to hurt you.
It is unfair. But here we are.
The bottom of the food chain.

I guess the only thing I can do is cherish what I have right now.
And enjoy my time with you as long as I can.
Until you set foot on that ship again.
Launch of into space.
Murder Rogues.
Fuck other girls.
Do whatever Kris tells you to do.
Get hunted by edgelords.
And eventually die young, without leaving any memory.
Like billions of other people.
Just getting swallowed by violence in space.

As she says all this, a lot is happening under the sheets.


I wonder where Kristoff is. I guess this is how Lea feels when I do not respond to her comms. Except that Lea and I are not a couple. But I guess, when you like someone, it does not matter what relationship they are in. One gets worried about the other.

Madeleine is right. If I die out there, nobody would know. They would find out way later.

Quite the irony, actually. I set up a transmission to several parties in case I die. Every two weeks, I need to refresh my signature. If I die or get kidnapped and I do not get to refresh it, several parties will get this transmission and learn everything about the Sentinels, about the Technomancy, about Renavent and who she deals with. About Caliban and about Kristoff, too. And about Harbinger.

I told Kristoff about this, and he begged me to stop it. But I told him that I will not. And that it is my only leverage. He does not know how I set it up. That is something I simply cannot tell anyone. Not Madeleine, not Monique, not him.

I guess I really am not a knight in shiny armor if I put everyone in danger like that. But damn, if any of those people wants to kill me, they will regret it. They want to set Sirius on fire. If I die, Sirius will be on fire.



Madeleine is such a pretty woman. Her make-up gets all messy, and she rarely smiles, but still. It is not like she is as passionate as Monique, and by a long shot not as skilled as Yoshiko, but Madeleine has something mesmerizing about her. I know her for a long time now, but she is still so difficult to read. I do not know why she loves me. I made her rich. She will never need to work in her life. But she is still here, still enduring me despite how worried she gets about me.

She cares for me when I am sick. She just accepts how life is unfair. She is so much more intelligent than I am. Probably more intelligent than anyone I know. Intelligent enough to know how fucked up Sirius is. And yet, here she is. Sweat is dripping down her body. I can barely move. She does it all. She does not care about anyone hearing us. The balcony door is still wide open.



I hold her as firmly as I can. Her breathing is quite uncontrolled, even now. She is calming down, though. We both stink now. Mika is no longer on the balcony but sits at the edge of the bed as a loaf, sleeping.


I do not know if you care, but... you definitely make it difficult for me to leave.

I'd cook for you if you'd eat like a normal human being.
I'd wash your clothes if you didn't have a robot for that.
You have more money than you could ever spend.
I guess this is really the only thing I can do to make you stay.

Well. If you get sick, and then infect me, I would need to stay, too.

... unless you want me to sneeze at you instead of riding you until your brain is liquid, you should probably just shut the fuck up.

She leans in for another kiss, helping me keeping my mouth shut.

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