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[MiniKitty]

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We do the stupidest things for the ones we love.

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Positive psychology always was one of those subjects that interested me, but unfortunately, the professor of that particular lecture was so boring, I ended up skipping the course in favour of... well, going to the Den. And while that seemed like an universally good idea, I can't help but wonder what I was missing out on, and how it would have affected my, let's face it, otherwise sober and nihilistic perception of the world and my surroundings.

Especially now, as I find myself in the center of this space storm.

The news are that Levan is feeling better. Somewhat. He eats regularly again, regained some of the lost weight, generally looks healthier again. His libido returned, too, and it is quite addictive. The bad news is that he also regained his interest in flying around in space with his danger magnet of a gunboat. He got in touch with a few space people again. This girl from Rheinland that was chasing after him for years, Lea. And of course, he also ran into Kris again. And realized what everyone else seemed to be obvious: They are no longer a couple. The utter lack of closure to that particular matter left him thinking they still were together, despite two months of complete silence and lightyears of distance.

And while Levan doesn't admit it verbally, that realization devastated him more than the entire phase of depression of the past two months. The only positive thing so far is that he didn't fall back into starving himself out again. Instead, he seems to try out new coping mechanisms, and that is how we ended up here, trapped in the eye of the storm.



Naive, and bored, as Monique is, she proposed it would be a "fun" idea to have both of us tag along with him, as he seems to have picked up a short term contract to move supplies from Denver to this research station here in Kepler. He made it sound like flying back and forth was actually a cake walk. Despite his initial doubts and warnings, he accepted and allowed us to join him. And that's where things started to go downhill.

The moment we entered this system, a stray asteroid got in our way and knocked us into the storm. Navigation systems got damaged, and despite telling us that everything is fine, it was obvious he was fighting his own panic, trying to hide it from us. Had it not been for two other vessels leading the way, we probably would have gotten into serious trouble.

Stray asteroids, lightnings, dust and constant bombardements of pebbles hitting against the shields and the armour, as well as some, for the lack of an adequate term, space tornados. This system has it all, and for some reason, Levan seems to enjoy it. I would assume it is his version of sitting in a dark room with music in his ears as he watches the heavy, rainy thunderstorm outside. Most definitely a coping mechanism, as no sane mind would come to this place over and over again, except for the money. He doesn't do it for the money. He's already rich.

A while later, we arrived at Ames, and the turbulences ceased. They have this shield situation going on here. Quite fascinating, actually, as the area around the station allows for a mostly clear view before at the end of the field, the storm awaits us with a thick, almost impenetrable wall of gas and dust and radiation. We had to take these pills. I wonder how many years of life expectancy I gave up on when I set a foot on this ship.

We do the stupidest things for the ones we love.



Upon arriving, we found out that Ames had given out a warning to all pilots to avoid Kepler for the coming days. A warning that got completely swallowed by the storm. Apparently, the connection to the neuralnet is sketchy at best right now. So, here we are. Stuck on a space station in the center of a deadly storm, with no idea for how long we have to stay here. Escaping death once, only to be surrounded by it.

Hey. What you got there?

Hot chocolate. Wanna try?


He's sitting on a couch in one of the outer hallways. The light is rather dim, and the windows show the horrors waiting out there, occasionally flooding the station with the red flash of these ominous electric discharges in the distance. On Denver, when lightnings strikes, it is followed by thunder. Out here, you hear nothing. What an odd thing to observe.

I hold my cup with both hands, absorbing the heat of this water-cocoa-powder mixture, even through the polymers of these space people outfits. These space stations are weirdly cold. Shouldn't they be cooking from the inside? They can radiate heat off only so much, while all these machines are running all day and night. I once asked Levan about it, but he never questioned it. The Kay, however, is a lot warmer.

There is a gentle smile on his lips as I sit down next to him and Monique, who had fallen asleep while leaning against him.

Pass.

Of course.

Are you good?

As good as I can be, considering the circumstances.

Yeah...

His PDA is on the little table in front of us, along with a bottle of water and an open can of soda, an ashtray and some pamphlets of the various projects the nerds here are running and trying to promote for investors. I know he's frequently checking the PDA for new messages. A habit that reemerged when he found out that Kris is alive.

Look, uhm, I am sorry that this went so bad.

We're still alive, that's what matters.

... So, you are not mad at me?

I'm convinced it was perfectly fine every other time you went here to hide.

Uhm, I am not here to hide.

Then why're you here?


He gives me that curious look. Leaning forward, I place the cup on the table, then scoot closer to his side.


It's not for the money, and you'd behave differently if it was for a girl.
I don't think you have anyone special on this station.

And that means I am here to hide?

I'd assume so. It's not like you have a retreat on Denver.
There's always someone around at the Den.

I can always just go to a hotel or stay at the Kay without leaving the planet, you know.

And yet you leave the planet and seek out desolate places like this, Mr. Stargazer.

That is not hiding, then, but stargazing.

His lips slightly open to leave out some air. His typical mute sigh. I place my hands on his, in his lap. Red lightning dances in the distance, occasionally lighting up the storm.

Admittedly, stargazing is a bit different here. But at least I do not run into people who want to kill me. Out here, people think twice about that.

So, that is why you come here?

No Rogues, no Technomancers, no Caliban, no creeps. And no aliens.
Just a bunch of scientists and a few daredevils. And some scrappers.

Had any run-ins with any of them again?

... Technomancers, yeah. Caliban, too. You would think space is huge and dangerous, but you always run into the same people, and they apparently never die, or cheat death.

Luckily you've been good at cheating death repeatedly, too.

Maybe.

Levan sneezes. One of the things I sometimes hate him for is that he can do literally anything and look incredibly pretty and cute at it. When he sneezes, it is like a movie star performance. There is no snot or spit, just an unfair amount of grace in something that makes other people look like they are dying. I'm not exaggerating. His way of sneezing could be considered photogenic.

Less photogenic is how the sleeping Monique slipped off his side, resulting in her head sliding down his chest, face-first between his legs. Even less graceful, it didn't wake her up, so she remained like that. Levan slowly turns his head in my direction, his eyes wide open, his lips forming an awkward, uncomfortable smirk.

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