FAILURE AFTER FAILURE
THE RESULTS REFUSE TO ALTER
AGAIN AND AGAIN
MY FIRE BEGINS TO WAVER
My entire body was in shambles. I was in complete agony. Both within and without.
The long tube of synthosteel inside my leg hurt like the day when I lost it. I could feel it writing between my tendrils, operating through tiny tubes and pressurized mechanisms to keep me walking. The augs in my wrists felt like long nails were burrowed inside my arms, and stars almighty, the pain in my head made me feel like someone used a fire axe on my skull. And during instant I would spend looking at something bright such as a PDA device or a holoboard, I would immediately regret it. Not even the grace of my light-obscuring visor would save me. Every single piece of metal stuck in my flesh felt real. The anesthetics were somehow failing me. My tunnel vision was only getting worse.
Not even the time when I lost myself in the bowels of the Prophet hurt this much. It was a constant and slow suffering. Like a plague of some kind. One I've never felt under the pain inhibiting substances my augs would drug me with every day.
I felt tiny white stars of pain seared in the back of my eye sockets. An encroaching tunnel vision that threatened to make me tumble over the smallest iota of a loose board down the ramp of my Falchion.
Valravn's staff officers didn't bat an eye at my ID being flashed when they allowed me clearance to dock in the Citadel. And when they've read my vital signs remotely, I promptly refused their suggestion to make me report to medical for any checkups.
I'm strong. I can walk to my room on my own. And I certainly don't need your help.
I ventured down that blasted ramp after landing in the white docks. Every single step hurt like rubbing sandpaper on an exposed wound.
I don't need any help. I can get there myself.
The ramp closed behind me with metallic creaks and hissing. I didn't even bother taking off the new flight suit the armory gave me to leave it on the ship. It was hard to see past the darkened glass. My hands hurt. Every atom of my being was in pain. Adrenaline alone was gliding me along.
Stop looking at me. I'm limping because I'm a little hurt. Everyone gets hurt. It happens.
I was breathing heavily inside my helmet like I was low on oxygen. Some other Technocrats were concerned about a crazed limping pilot clutching his head with grunts like he was shot at seventeen times. I never felt so much paranoia and pain in my entire life.
QUIT LOOKING AT ME.
Not long after I made it past the vast docking hangar bays of white chrome and blue lights, I limped my way to the elevators, blindly shoving my card on the reader to get access to the upper levels where I belong.
Two other Technocrats were approaching me with a quickened pace.
Please don't talk to me.
There was no doubt these two were from the medical wing, the white labcoats with the purple cross insignia gave it away. One of them was a tall synth with an extremely thin metallic frame painted with some rather fancy shades of chrome and purple, a head resembling a highly digitalized and intelligent streetlamp of some kind. The machine carried some kind of pad in its right hand and hauled a white anti-grav stretcher that looked very comfortable with the other. Next to him, a woman in her thirties. Freckles, long red hair. Some kind of scanner lens on her right eye. Pretty and a little tomboyish, just like Aspen. She starts talking to me.
"Science Chief Officer Lazurith. Correct?"
"L-leave me alone, please."
"Is everything well? Your vitals are a little off, and we should run a check on you."
Stop. G-go away, please...
I punched the reader embedded in the lift with my hand. I wanted it to hurry up. I wanted to disappear behind the white doors. Away from everyone.
"Do not worry. This will take but a moment. Do you not feel like resting on a soft bed while we'll take good care of you?"
I want to sleep and never wake up.
"We need our brothers and sisters to stay in tip-top shape. You seem to be in a lot of pain, and we can h--"
HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO REPEAT MYSELF. I'M FINE.
"I'm going back to my quarters... it-- it's fine."
Kimiko gave me the gift of awareness.
She allowed me to see flame. Inside me, there is a small candle that burns in silence. It is very weak, and sensitive. The smallest brush of wind can hurt it. Sometimes it flickers quietly, and sometimes it roars in defiance while trying to resist the cold winds of everyone around me. So much negativity I need to shield my flame away from.
But it came at a cost. Complete and total awareness. Awareness of every fiber of my being, as well as awareness of the emotions that pervade others. They blow like cold mistral winds, and sometimes they blow like warm siroccos. It's a little scary. I feel like a windvane on a tall rooftop.
Every little bit of technology and synthetic materials embedded in my body are truly there. I cannot ignore them anymore. They're stuck in my mutilated flesh.
With a worried sigh, the woman turned her pretty face to the synth.
"Exo, please help me carry him. We'll take him to the emergency room in the clinic... something isn't right with his vitals. Have you experienced any problems with your augmentations lately?"
She turned her smooth face towards me.
"J-just... go away... I beg you."
My voice turned into a trembling whimper. I wanted to drop down, and collapse on my pillow.
"Please, Lazurith. We are trying to help you. We're here for you."
Her voice was so genuine and caring. She wanted me to be healthy. But I didn't have the time or energy to report about anything.
"I'll-- I'll check in tomorrow, doctor. I am very tired right now. Good day."
The lift arrived. I boarded it immediately, and left those two behind.
I felt so sorry on the ride to the upper levels. They were only trying to help. But what I truly needed was some good sleep. Maybe some drugs to help me alleviate the pain in my shoulders.
I clenched my hands until I felt the joints in my wrists hurt. I had to endure a little pain to go back home on my own.
My shambling continued across the large upper decks, past the crowds of synthos and humans and towering guards in white armour walk right past me. I pressed on, as I continued my way on the catwalk. I was so close to my bed. To my personal view of Elgin and the black city of Ismara from orbit.
The moment my door finally opened after resisting my attempts at reading my card, I made a small dash for the king-sized bed next to the wall in the room, and I crashed in its comfortable blue sheets, feeling the softness of the laundered fabric slowly consume me.
With a lot of effort, I managed to pull off the flight suit, taking off every piece and scattering it all around my bedroom. The helmet received the same treatment, as I tossed it off into a corner. It bounced off the floor with a clunk. I removed my gauntlets. The boots. And then stripped myself of everything else. All I wanted was the comfort of the bedsheets. Just like when I was still a Libertonian high schooler, coming back home after a tiring day of incessant studies and hard work and social interaction.
All I had left on me was my large tee that would go down to my thighs as well as my briefs. Just like in Freeport 14. It was liberating to wear so little for only eight or so hours a day. I glared at the dark grey ceiling, lined with tubes and steel pipes.
I took some time to talk to myself. To assess my situation.
This is all happening because I was manipulated by Kimiko.
But it is the gift of awareness. You know how much you suffer now.
I didn't need to know. This isn't making me stronger. It's only showing me how weak I am.
Is it not human nature to refute knowledge to hide away from the truth? To embrace ignorance? And the truth is that you're very hurt. The fire flickers.
I am hurting because of Levan and Becca and everything else that's sending my life into a one-way trip to hell. I couldn't care less on how much this "awakening" is damaging my body. I just want to be at peace.
Healthy body, healthy mind. The two are always interlinked. The winds are cold and strong here in Sirius. You'd do well to take care of yourself, little one.
I wish I was across this solar system right now talking sweet things to Levan, but that's not happening.
Tears began to dwell in my eyes.
He doesn't want to see me ever again. Every single joy in my life has to be raped and taken from me.
Even if you will lose everything and everyone you love, you will still have flame. As long as you treasure it like you would treasure yourself.
What is the point of treasuring myself if everyone will hurt me. So many people want me to die. I can't do this anymore.
Some tears began to rig my face.
Perseverance, little flame.
It's meaningless struggle. They want to extinguish my flame. Sometimes I wonder if I should just let them do it. Sometimes I wonder if I should have died in Alcatraz for going against Raven, I angered Hemlocke and he nearly killed us both, and Aspen too.
And now, Levan pushed me out of his life. I should've never entered his life. I shouldn't have never talked to Becca. I should have just died in that cell. I should have died. I should have died. I should have died.
The pain in my stomach increased as I clutched the pillow for comfort. But her voice continued to speak to me. With her gift inside me, my voice of reason sounded less like my own, and more like hers. Like a guiding mother cradling a teary child that hurt himself.
Perseverance. Do you not wish to persevere, little one?
I don't see the point anymore.
Fate is keeping you down. All of the naysayers, all of the negativity. They want to kill your fire. Fate wants you to choke, but you can rebel against it. You can live as you please. You can overcome it. You can mend yourself. You can burn in peace, free of any burdens.
...
All you need is a guiding hand, little one. All can be mended. All will be well. Every piece of the jar can be glued back together. With time, and patience. Come, little one. Sit on your crossed legs. Breathe in, and breathe out.
I stopped my tears from flowing, and I listened to my own reasoning. I closed my eyes, balancing my weight on my lower back equally to balance my sitting position on my dark blue sheets. I clutched my knees with my thin hands.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Touch the thoughts. And let them go. Let them float away on the waters. Like fallen leaves on a pond's lake in autumn. Let the pain go. You are enduring a small phase. Soon, you will feel better than ever before. Touch the pain. And let it go. Like a paper boat in the ocean.
My eyes remained closed, as the confines of my room collapsed into the infinite expanse of space. So many stars around me, so many nameless nebulas. Burning suns without names or numbers.
WHEN THEY NEEDED ME MOST
I SANK BELOW
MY LOVE, CAST AWAY IN A STEEL COFFIN
PLUMMETING IN THE DUSKS I ADMIRED
I AM BURNING, OH SO BRIGHT
FORGIVE ME, MOTHER
Uhm!
Levan approached me, while I was lazily splattered onto his bed, my face blinded by the blue light of the holopad grasped by my right hand. I could make out his thin and built body from the corner of my eye. His hands were behind his back while he was trying his damndest to look as gentlemanly as possible, something he occasionally did just to sass me, since that's a habit I tend to do with idle hands. And Lord, have my hands been idle.
I could faintly make out something squared and red in his right hand, with a dangling chain hanging from it.
Greetings, mister Harlow. What can I help you with?
He was holding the keycard to the Kay, something I just couldn't help but nudge him into doing so. I always had this urge of making sure things are locked behind me wherever I go ever since I had people breaking into my college room to steal my friend's Liberty Ale cans by just opening the door. But nevertheless, he had this wanting, concerned look on his face. The kind of face he makes when he really wants to go outside after we have been cooped up in the room for so long. It's kind of adorable sometimes.
I am in the mood for a ride. We have been here for a while now, and I think you have been quite sad litely. I am a little worried!
The smirk I didn't even feel forming on my face suddenly died. No amount of sleeping would ever save me from the harsh reality I was trapped in.
This was true. Kimiko had discovered some kind of secret inside me, and they were all blaming Raven for what I was putting myself through. Whose fault was it, really?
Don't be, please. I'm actually doing a little better lately, but you know how it is.
Which is why I think we should take a ride on the Kay. We can sit next to each other and you can be your usual goofball self around me.
I've shut my eyes away from the 830 Colony Plasmaball League game results article on my pad, closing them tightly while breathing in deeply. My past had to catch up to me eventually. All the things I've left unsaid would have to emerge, and some sincere apologies to Becca are in order, as well.
I've been a coward. But I had to own up to my mistakes and move on again. It is what I've learned while being around Raven, as I began to grow spiritually with all of my experiences under my belt. There are differences in the things we can change and the ones we cannot change.
Well, hell. It's about time, anyways.
Ugh... 'Lev. There's just a lot to deal with. I can tackle things, but I am afraid I have to tackle a little too much as it is, y'know?
Levan tilted his head, with a bit of a worried but still radiant smile. For a boy from Pitt, his teeth were so white and pretty. No wonder I feel my heart race every time he looks at me.
Kris... maybe, uhm. We do not need to deal with any of this right away, right? Uhm, one day, one week, one month, what does it matter? So, uhm, how about we go and do some fun stuff while we can? Maybe you can show me your university?
I just couldn't resist the whims of that man.
Honestly? It might be a nice idea.
Suddenly, the co-pilot's controls crackled and sparkled menacingly. After we had struck that fucking mine, the Kay's controls went completely tits up. The shields went down, and some crazy explosion knocked me off my feet. I ran as fast as I could into the engine room to check if I could switch the wiring tubes from the engine to the emergency alternator to keep the thing running, but they were just too hot to touch. This is not a maneuver people do while the ship is actively running. Black smoke was pouring out of every ventilation shaft, the horrible scent of molten plastic and copper entering my lungs, making me cough and choke, tears welling up in my eyes.
Everything around me began to rumble violently with loud metallic rattling. I was shoved to the floor by the Kay moving into a trade lane, only for it to start creaking as though it was about to be ripped in half, all the while some loud fire alarms began to blare out a cacophony of noise directly into my ears. Levan was about to crash land us into Denver, with no knowledge or expertise on how to follow along the gravitational pull.
I had to run back again. I was practically crawling on my knees to get to the control room and help Levan out, but with two collapsed engines and the life support systems failing, our odds were looking grim. Meditation and contemplation of the universe be damned, we were both about to die to the most menial occurrence that could have ever happened to any spacer next to cabin pressure loss.
When I had entered the control room, I was welcomed by the sight of ominous flares of fire red burning up from outside the cockpit as the space around us began to give room to the blue ozone far above the clouds, while every single emergency console output on the front of the ship puked out an unreadable plethora of critical system failures. We were quickly accelerating into Denver's gravitational well, and no matter how many life-defying experiences I've had in this strange life of mine, there is nothing that comes close to the unfathomable power of gravity.
I made my way past the fallen chair on the floor, only to freeze as a curled up Levan was clutching his bloodied head. He looked pale, and he was knocked out cold. Streaks of crimson were trickling down his forehead. It was in that exact moment that the mild sense of danger I felt during the explosion turned into full-on panic. He looked dead in that moment, limp in my shaking mechanical arms.
I screamed as I picked him up. I began to cry and breathe quickly, like these were my last two minutes of my life and I had to let out every last bit of emotion in my body. I began to shout, hoping my voice could be heard through the indescribable shaking of metallic plates falling and burning off into the edge of the atmosphere, along with the Kay itself.
Levan! Talk to me, please! Wake up!
LEVAN! LEVAN?! LEVAN!!!
He wasn't waking up. I shook him by the shoulders, and nothing happened. I held him, and nothing happened. The world outside me was falling down, and the world inside me was crumbling. I was about to die exactly where I was born.
But something inside my chest flared up.
Something I couldn't believe was going to whisper little nothings in my ears ever again.
It was her. But more cosmic, bigger, infinite. Connected to infinite stars. She who bequeathed me flame.
And it was that very connection that allowed me to feel the boy's life flowing inside his body. He was alive.
Run, little spark. Save yourself.
I am NOT going to let him die.
I hoisted the Pitt prettyboy from the floor. The man who knew every emotion I felt, who truly understood me like a brother. He was a bit of a nympho, loving people left and right. I never got to tell him how much I disliked being ignored over them. But I had feelings for him. Adrenaline rushed to my brain, as I brought his heavy body on my arms and pushed him into the escape pod hatch out of the control room after I kicked away the hatch's cover with my foot. It was enough for him. He was never much of a heavyweight, anyways.
You must save yourself.
My shaking hands went over the heavy red steel handle, and pulled on it with every fiber left in my arms. The pod flew off into the atmosphere with a loud hiss. Levan got to live.
The Kay was slowly creeping up on the white mantle of clouds below me. The fumes made me feel like heaving, and I felt weak in the legs, falling immediately on my knees. I was still in disbelief and utter denial at the fact that I was at the very end of my life. I began to regret how I couldn't even say goodbye to any of the people I held dear.
The Kay didn't take long before belly diving into the clouds. I was plummeting and tumbling down. So I grasped my commlink on my wrist to hit record. At least, she deserved to know what got me killed.
Becca. Th-there's no time left. The Kay is crashing down. Levan's--
L-listen. I love you. Don't-- don't do anything stupid. I'm sorry I couldn't come back.
Take care of yourself.
I began to see the beautiful green trees and the verdant tall hills and the shiny white mountains popping into my view. And with closed eyes, I embraced the inevitable.
And after the loudest noise I've ever heard in my life, the world died.
I ESCAPED FROM DEATH
MALFORMED, UNKEMPT, UNHAPPY
ONLY FOR MY NECK TO BE ON A LEASH AGAIN
AT THE WHIMS OF GODS AND MONSTERS
I COULD ONLY WEEP, AS I SANK IN GNAWING DESPAIR
THE FIRE FADES
Corroded green steel and dim sickly dark basil lights made up for the crude surroundings of the infirmary I've found myself in shortly after regaining consciousness. Once again, brought here to the whims of an emergency protocol. As my weakened and bandaged arms lied next to me in that secluded room buried in the most remote infirmary in all of Sirius, tears rolled down my face like warm open faucets. My emotions struck me, as the creeping realization of my inescapable fate finally rolled in.
I became an imprint. Despite every promise I made, despite the commitments I swore to uphold, everything was for naught.
I've gone too far...
I awakened in a Cryer clinic on Denver, naked and freezing in an opened stasis pod. I can still remember the moment the cryogenic hell slush substance stuck itself between my toes and in my wet hair, and how I screamed like I'd never done before the moment my poor eyes glanced upon my left arm's stump, the arm I was born with gone forever, lost as I crashed in a sunset after saving my love. I should have died in the crash, but a primal instinct of survival kept me bound to this mortal plane, or perhaps it was all her doing. I question whether that was a blessing or a curse to this day.
I want to go home...
Ever since I recovered, I promised Levan I wouldn't put myself against the maws of danger and I promised I would look after myself, not just for me but for everyone around me. I steeled myself, and brandished my resolve to find a solution to the riddle plaguing Sirius, like everyone else around me. And yet, I continued to endure the blows, firing upon those monsters with all the energy my weapons would allow me.
I'm tired...
One day, Caliban killed himself. Realizing that being dead is a preferable alternative to being a tool with no free will, he made sure to deliver Harbinger a poignant message writ in blood. "I AM NOT YOUR TOY." I was shook. Rev was, too. I could hear that from the way she spoke, with barely any breath in any of her words, sounding so feeble, probably breaking apart from behind her mask. It tore me up to see what a creature's wordless will can do to someone.
It wasn't my fault...
I chanced upon something that was never meant for my feeble mind.
The beating heart of a beastly leviathan throbbed behind my eyes, it synchronized with my own heartbeat, with my breath, with the rhythm of the very stars. And it begged for vengeance for her kin at every pulse.My life and all my memories became irrelevant,as for the briefest of moments I understood in full clarity that one must become nothing to discover everything at once.I felt ready. The heart energized me, and controlled me.It tore control from my weak grasp,and forced me to embrace Harbinger's gift upon me,drilling an etching onto my mind, violating my brain and raging like a supernova.
I want to die...
The sluggish realization followed shortly after. Of the things I said, and what I had pledged to do without being in control of my body and mind. I unwillingly turned myself into a tool, one that will be used to the smallest whims of those who wish to control me. I fled the Citadel, after promising I would come return.
But I lied. I flew past the stars and the planets and everything in-between, as far as my body could take me, crammed inside the cockpit of my Falchion, curled up in a ball as my navcom did the rest.
As I observed the natural beauty of the cosmos from a secluded location, I jabbed the dose of Nox in my arm out of sheer frustration and fury, in an act of indulgence and harm against the self.
The drug felt like noxious rot roaming through my entire being. Every nerve began to flare up, as though I had willingly immolated myself. My vision blurred and tunneled and faltered, the afterimage of my blue navcoms and monitoring screens inside my ship merged with the luminosity of the stars outside. They etched and burned themselves inside my retinas, no matter how hard I tried to shut my eyes. Glass shards dancing in my brain, like tiny white stars. At the time, I believed this to be a preferable alternative to numbness and atrophy, but the pain set in shortly after, and I suffered and burned and screamed away in my cockpit where nobody would hear me, until the seizures hit me, and consciousness failed me.
I can't go on...
The ghastly medical eyeball-looking drones filled with sharp needles floated and visited my dim infirmary room, and they told me through their crackling voices and medical terms that I caused some serious damage to my arm, and that I am going to be put under strict psychological surveillance for my own safety to prevent me from doing any more stupid shit. This was the closest I ever got to ending my own life on purpose.
My heart gnawed for an answer. Psyche's gift used to live in my soul, like a tiny candle that pierced through the mantle of darkness.
But she is gone, now. Her voice is slowly becoming a distant memory.
MY LOVE, CAST DOWN BELOW
TURNS AWAY, DEALING THE FINAL BLOW
WORDS THAT HURT MORE THAN NOX
THE NAIL THAT PROTRUDES FROM THE WALL IS HAMMERED
EVERY PERSON ANTICIPATES AN ANSWER
YET DOUBTS RIDDLE ME LIKE CANCER
ALL IS LOST
I AM LOST
Kristoff.
We stood away from each other, mere meters apart, forced to glance at him from my Marauder, while he glanced at me from somewhere inside his Condor.
We were surrounded by the raging storms of Kepler, all around us. A stream of clouds darker than the deepest slumber. Null, endless ouroboros. A samsara torrent of death, mere klicks away from us. Almighty forces of nature that crush and maim and torture the poor souls trapped inside, along with the fools who think they can stand up against the unpredictability and chaos of nature itself. And we were both trapped in the very center of it, whispering to each other the sheer extent of the anguish this journey had led us to.
And though my heart cried out for his weeping voice, I was met with words that pierced me like knives. I clutched my chest tightly, as he continued to bathe me in the most noxious acid there is, the reminders of my actions.
If you leave like you did the times before...
If you leave without a word...
... or to return to the Citadel...
That will be it.
I am too tired for this game of cat and mouse.
Chasing after you.
Only to get lied to.
Levan, I cannot leave them. I need to go back.
Do you promise that?
Do you promise that, Kristoff?
That you will call quits?
B-but I don't know where to go. I cannot.
Promise that you will call quits when you leave next time.
...Help me...
PROMISE IT!
...
...Yeah. Thought so.
...I won't promise on something I am not certain of.
I don't want to disappoint you again.
YOU ALREADY DID.
But I do not know what is the right choice...
I cannot tell you what right or wrong is.
I can only tell you that I do not care about right or wrong.
And that I will not fall for another seduction.
I want to love you, Kristoff.
I want to hold you all night. Make love with you.
I want to kiss you and taste you.
But I will not waste my time with a PUPPET.
...
YOU.
DID.
NOTHING.
FOR. HER.
You didn't even CARE.
SHE WAS YOUR FRIEND.
I-I--
You are weak. STOP BEING WEAK.
My ship automatically docked itself into Ames, while I idly waited for the double airlocks to open their hefty hydraulics to allow passage for my small Marauder, my burning eyes glaring at the general direction of a blinking light in the middle of my navigation screen for no clear reason. I could not even feel myself blinking for a while anymore. The automated mechanisms locked my winged hunk of moving parts and overcharged plasma electrodes inside the halls of the secluded research station, until the mechanical claws came to a halt, slowly lowering my ship, deftly tucking it into a small little corner, brightly illuminated by an overhead ceiling light. After the systems went off with a quiet hiss, I reached for the button in the back of my helmet.
My blue helm came off with a hiss, bearing the white insignia of something that no longer had any meaning. I uncaringly dropped it to the floor, as I remained seated. It bounced with a satisfying noise.
My body remained idle for what felt like an hour or maybe ten, as I idly glared into the faint reflection of my navcom's monitor. With the powerful light cast above my head, all I could see on the other side was my exhausted face, greatly exacerbated by the dark rings under my blue eyes.
The small trickle of emotions I tried to stop eventually flooded, until it became a vast, unending sea without end, with tidal waves so strong nothing could ever truly come out of it again.
I clenched my fists. I needed an anchor in the storm.
Happy thoughts.
I thought of that night I spent at Brandon's place, at David's Hollow. We were on his rooftop, counting the Stargazers flying over in the distant sky above us. They were not very popular back then, and we both wanted to be in the same one, huddled together forever. Me, being the techie who would fix up the occasional piston falling out of line, and him, ranting about the biology nonsense and the other nonsense about gas planet's atmospheric compositions and gravitational pulls. I wasn't much of a nerd, but I enrolled for Ageira to change that, just live my dream with him. We kissed, we breathed the warm summer breeze while our fingers were linked, never to be separated again.
Happythoughts.
I thought of the ocean. When I was younger, I enjoyed walking barefoot in the salty water, watching as the sun went down behind the shores of Crichton Springs' gray waves and blue waters. I wondered if there was another city just like my own on the other side. I wondered if there was someone else wondering the same question about Crichton. I wondered why the water was always so warm, all year round. It was perfect. I was a happy child. I was grateful for my parents. I was grateful for my brother. I was grateful for my mother.
Happy thoughts.
I thought of that evening I spent with Rebecca, dining on chewy, warm ribs in the Hawaii's Rheinland restaurant. She was cranky and rude and sometimes insufferable while on a cockpit, a fitting outlook for someone who served lots of time with armed forces. But in person, she shone like a diamond. A rough, unpolished brilliant diamond, maybe even a little tarnished by the things she had to go through on Leeds. But nevertheless, she was sweet and kind, not the monster Levan makes her out to be.
Happy thoughts.
I'll-- I'll try to go back to some degree of normality.
What is normality to you?
Normality means being feet on the ground.
Breathing good air.
And not having your ego torn into a million pieces.
You are a key now.
I'm not.
You still work for Relevant.
I-I'm not...
Harbinger will not let go of you.
St-stop it, please...
You still have the thing in your head.
SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!
YOU FUCKING LIARS!
I HATE YOU!
I FUCKING HATE ALL OF YOU!
NONE OF YOU UNDERSTAND ME!
I think the bitter truth is that we are past the point of normality.
Neither for you nor for me. We will just not be able to return.
L-Levan... please... you're scaring me...
The warmth of my reminiscing was broken by the words Levan singed to me.
The happy-go-lucky child who once lived in my heart bled to death, stab wound after stab wound after stab wound.
Every shred of jolly joy and wonderment and enthusiasm died along with me in this journey. I clutched my chest.
My body is not my own. My mind is not my own. My life is not my own.
The mantra every person who knows me never fails to make me remember. Everyone who accused me of being a puppet. Everyone who accused me of being a traitor. Everyone who accused me of being a coward. A coward, running, running away in fear.
Space was simply never meant for people like me. It really is a jungle, where the strongest survive, and the weak fall behind. It sucks out every sliver of happiness out of you into the cold, hard vacuum of nothingness. And you will never have it back in your grasp.
No one treats me like a person anymore. Only as a tool. An item they all desire.
Levan wants my body. Raven wants my mind. Rebecca wants my heart. Harbinger wants my soul.
...And nary a thought for what I want.
...I get it now.
With trembling hands and wobbling legs, I shuffled off my chair, tumbling on the cold steel, crawling on the floor like an infant, while my vision tunneled and warped to my hyperventilating. I reached for the small cabinet in the back of my ship with my clammy hands, and opened a black, plastic container which revealed a factory new Smith-Jefferson laser pistol, the case I always brought around with me in case things ever got from push to shove.
Long ago, I promised Rebecca I would use this for training with her. We were supposed to learn tactics, aim, posture, discipline. I promised her I would keep going strong, for her sake.
But that was hardly a reason that could keep me afloat for very long.
And I grew tired of swimming. I was tired of trying. I was tired of lying.
...N-now n-n-n-no one w-will ever control m-me again.
I powered on the handgun, it screeched with the power of all the ionic cathodes and laser optics crammed inside, menacingly whirring to life. It was a lot heavier than I had imagined. I turned it around, the laser condenser pointed towards my face. I gazed inside the hollow hole of the pistol, from which I could spot an ominous red light sparkling in the darkness.
With trembling hands, my thumb hovered over the pointy trigger that would hopefully send me to heaven. So many tears were falling from my face, falling all over my suit. Regret, betrayal, sadness, anger, rage, all churning up into coalesced bitter weeping. I could not stop shaking. I could not stop crying. I could not stop panicking. I could not stop being afraid. I COULD NOT STOP SHAKING.
I closed my eyes for the last time, as I grit my teeth in an innate, primordial response to perceived self-injury. Even in the end, not even my body wanted me to make a choice.
I pulled the trigger.
It happened in an instant. The bolt bounced from the tetra-steel wall, molecules away from my head, bouncing numerous times like a demonic stage light, dancing violently around my cockpit, shedding sparks everywhere until it hit me square in the shoulder, bouncing me back from my dismal state. The adrenaline was already kicking in. I grunted, and cried out in pain as the searing sensation finally settled in, while the gun clattered on the cold floor.
The shot knocked the air out of me, and I clutched my chest in agony. I've quickly thought of anything that could help me. But all of the nanite vials and tyrosine enablers and muscle bouncers were left behind inside the Causality.
There was no immediate way for me to stop the pain.
I was briefly reminded of what it is like to be a human again.
In a panicked rush, I tumbled out of my ship through the hatch in the back, falling poorly on my foot. Crawling like a worm, dragging myself across the pavement as I yelled as loud as I could in an empty hangar.
My eyes failed me, as I continued to scream for help, leaving little blood pools in my wake.
ALONE, OUTCASTED, ASHAMED.
ALL THAT'S LEFT IN MY POCKETS
IS A HAIR PIN AND A SHIMMERING MEDALLION
Before me, there were handfuls of consoles, displaying all kinds of data onto small monitors with their holographic brightness turned to zero. The ones that required to showcase concise data through numbers would instead display information through simple numbers on small digital black screens situated on the big panel to my left. Normally, the numbers are green. And my hands usually have their porcelain color too, and the consoles and the canopy glass also have some semblance of hue to them. Even the stuffed green alligator near the controls is supposed to be lime green. Sandman stared at me with his tiny little black beady eyes in confusion.
The unpredictable nature of cosmic radiation coming from these unknowable subspace rifts has a strange effect on me. Everything lacked color, I was surrounded entirely by an encroaching oblivion without meaning. It felt peaceful for a time, like a temporary escape from reality that would only last for a few minutes, as the tenuously thin walls of subspace would twist and snake and contort, while my ship would follow simply ride the wave with little to no thrusting adjustments at all. Whether this was the work of the Forefathers or nature itself, jump hole connections felt like… space highways of sorts, crisscrossed by all kinds of people indigenous to the Omegas.
Eventually, the rift of the jump hole spat my ship out, like I was some chicken bone in your fried food. Colors quickly flooded my cockpit; the stars and the orange hue of the encroaching Walker bathed me in a warm orange glow. The absence of light slowly dissipated, and I began to stare idly at the innocent Mr. Sandman for answers, as I idly waited for a few more moments to let my aged space faring contraptions to come back to life as they re-adjusted to the new surroundings, running calculations and executing safety parameters I would often outright ignore to maximize speed and efficiency.
A thin smell of what smelled like gas and cologne mixed with disinfectant permeated my nostrils. What a surprise - that was the distinct tang of the chemically active plating interlocking inside the bowels of the Homerunner and reacting to the vast amount of radiation from the black neutron star to my right. Forty-one. What a place to be in, deadly and macabre and desolate as it is beautiful and awe-inspiring. Colonists from eight hundred years ago settled down shortly after an apocalypse happened in this place. A death by natural causes. This is what I was taught in school many years ago when I lived on Denver. This is what I was told would happen to the sun in Colorado at the end of its interminable cycle. And I never imagined that young little baby Kristoff would grow up to see a real dead star, one that went supernova and mangled all of the planets orbiting it like a cosmic frag grenade.
The navcom map situated on the monitor close to my left hand flickered back to life. It traced a projected path around the treacherous environment of that rocky wasteland, avoiding the brunt of the mines scattered by the Cretans, dodging the asteroids while staying as far away as possible from the dying neutron star dominating the solar system. I hit the "GOTO" command button on my console, and I leaned back in that creaky chair, feeling discomfort over some of that broken seat leather's yellow sponge seeping in my pretty hair.
The Homerunner pointed her face towards the designated destination, as she charged her fancy MOX engines right up, and gently rocked me forward as I entered a modest cruising velocity, tuned with the nimble hands of Barrier Gate engineering. I watched as the innumerable asteroids dashed past the length of my ship. Sometimes my seat would recoil when the smaller asteroids struck a fragment or two, causing the shields to activate, or to even make the lights flicker if the occasional asteroid proved to be too demanding for my Rhino's whimsical power core capacity.
Something walking towards my seat disturbed my idle absent mindedness. LQ made himself present in my cockpit as the sliding doors closed shut behind him. The loud hydraulics around his joints felt a little loud on the ear, and being around him while he shuffled around doing some of my chores for more than an hour would often give me huge migraines.
“Hi there!”
“...Hello, LQ. What do you need?”
“I couldn't help but notice we are currently in a very strange place! Where are we?”
“…Forty-one.”
I grimaced, as I watched the hefty loader bot sit on the co-pilot’s seat. That’s usually my seat for when I leave the ship in GOTO mode – the leather is practically brand new because no one ever sits on it, and you can actually sleep on it if you try hard enough and you don’t mind waking up with your back aching.
He gently pushed away some of the monitors held afloat by black steel braces to make more room for his larger bulky size. The azure optic on his face cast a gentle light on the blastscreens, making focusing my attention on the stars around me a little difficult. I looked back at Mr. Sandman for help, but his goofy expression and silence was only a dead giveaway that he himself didn’t know what to do in this situation.
The deafening quietude hovering between me and the machine was getting more than a little awkward.
“…LQ, I’m a little busy in here.”
“My apologies, sir! You really did seem like you were doing nothing. You could have fooled me!”
I replied with a little sigh, tucking my right hand under the armpit of my flight suit.
“I’m… not actually busy, I just wish to be left alone for a little bit. I need to mull over some things.”
The machine glanced over me with an empty glance. Its cyan eye cast a feeble light at my face.
“Would it help to talk about it?”
“No… not really. Maybe a little.”
“You could always talk to me. I would very much like to know where we’re headed, anyways.”
“We’re going to Freeport One. The Omegas are dead as a doornail, thankfully. Maybe finding jobs out here won’t be a problem after all. Seems like the Zoners might always need a delivery boy that can bring them gewgaws from Freeport to Freeport.”
“I do not seem to understand. You already have some contracts you have yet to finish in Liberty. Why the devil would you take more?”
“…Because it’s a no-go, LQ. No more running around Liberty for me. Not right now, at least.”
I shook my head with a defeated sigh.
“So… something did happen while I was on Erie waiting for you.”
“A… lot has happened, LQ. Freeport One is my home now. The Order wants me really dead. If I asked for help to the Liberty authorities, they could easily find out that I used to be a Technocrat, and… and besides, the authorities just don’t care. I… really don’t have a good rep anymore. I need to hide.”
“And how did this come to be?”
“I lied, LQ. I lied a lot because my ass was on the line. There are some secrets that are better left uncovered, and I didn't feel like spilling anything to the Order. And keep in mind that I'm a former Technocrat, it causes ignorant people to dislike me by virtue of simply existing.”
"The more you speak, the more you make it sound like you are part of some dire plot in a secret agent flick.
Mr. Sandman watched me in appalled shock and awe as I moved my robotic left hand over my right arm. It looked grey and colorless without the synthetic skin patches I was supposed to wear over it. Watching the tiny hydraulics under the plate in my palm quietly compress whenever I would open and close my hand quickly became a favorite pastime, making me wonder if presenting myself to the Orion to have it fixed was even a good idea.
LQ remained in silence. Good. He probably wanted me to elaborate further. I chose not to. I had more things to worry about.
I awkwardly cleared my throat. I had some phlegm building up. Being in a solar system without any solar rays to sunbathe in can easily cause the temperatures in the cabin to plummet down to the single digits in temperature sometimes. No matter how much that blasted heating vent on the roof roared, there just wasn't enough warm air coming through for my liking. I looked over my shoulder, and returned a quiet side glance to my loader droid. Behind him, the raging power of a neutron star pulsed like a beating heart in the distance, emitting radiation storms so powerful they were visible to the naked eye. It’s a miracle the ‘Runner was even running. Me and my ridiculous metal husk are nothing compared to the chaotic will of nature itself. We dashed in silence across asteroids and mines, ignoring the hailing message from a nearby Zoner convoy that was way out of range for me to make out.
Eventually, there came another jump hole. One that would lead us to Eleven. The walls began to rattle again, as my ship creaked through the tunnel of the anomaly. Mr. Sandman, now colorless, stared at me with a worried look on his face. If only LQ wasn’t around, I would have held him and squeezed him to comfort the little reptile plush.
The cold was quickly replaced by the blistering heat of Omega-Eleven. The scenery changed entirely, darkness was replaced by light, death was replaced by life, and the cold was replaced by the blistering heat. Even the heating vent began to spew out cold air, causing me to take off my flight suit. My movements with my left arm were a little hampered, as the spiky tidbits of metal would often get stuck in the fabric of my clothing. I breathed a satisfied sigh of relief, as I was now wearing nothing more than a t-shirt in the comfort of my own ship.
After a few more minutes of silence, I eventually realized I had to tell LQ something – anything. He came in my cabin to plead for answers. Reluctantly, I cleared the phlegm from my throat.
“I’ve… neglected you lately. I am sorry. Let me go over everything that happened since I left you down on Erie.”
“That would be ideal, sir. I’ve been waiting for you to finish your sentence!”
“Uhm… well, it turns out that handling personal relationships and enjoying life while being part of a technology hoarding sometimes-militant society reviled by all of Sirius just ain’t easy. Hemlocke didn’t like it, Cobra didn’t like it. The Order sure as hell didn’t like it, Caliban didn’t like it, and now the Rheinland secret services don’t like it.”
“If you are in such danger, then why not change your identity? I can try to contact my employer and tell them that-”
“LQ, that’s exactly the problem. I would have to sever myself from my past entirely… but I’ll remain a prisoner to it, no matter what.”
The more I spoke of my deplorable situation, the more the anxiety in my chest began to flare up, clutching my body into a razor-sharp bear trap. Truly, there was nothing I could do.
“I… I’m lost, LQ. I don’t know what to do anymore. I am alone now. If I poke my head out, I’m going to get clobbered. Um – we could end our arrangement right now, if you want. You’re free to go home, I can arrange a freighter trip for you and get you safely back home.”
“Nonsense, sir. This is much more entertaining than sorting shelves on empty warehouses! You treat me as though I were a human, and not a servant. This… is a breach of contract, but it is something I am willing to do.”
“...That’s just something I was taught while being with the Technocrats. It’s a golden rule. 'Machines have their free will, and it should be respected no matter the circumstance.' You are a sentient being yourself, after all.”
LQ did not reply. Sometimes complicated words spat out at a frantic pace tend to overload his processor units, and he takes a while to restore his functionalities into a normal capacity.
I continued to quietly enjoy the silence that followed. My cybernetic arm grasped the hefty, poker-chip sized medallion on my neck while my ship continued to fly undisturbed through the breadth of the Omegas. I would gently shift it to the left and to the right, revealing that mysterious chromatic sheen only visible if you’re paying close attention. The emblem of a black serpent etched on the round surface stared back at me ominously. The other side presented a small hexagonal peg on it. There was no way in hell something this complex would be nothing more than a simple magnetic device.
It was the only thing that could spare me from a miserable and painful death. And it was only thanks to this object that I still draw breath.
I clasped it tightly with my artificial hand, breathing a short sigh of relief, and gratification.
EVERYTHING BURNS.
FIRES RAGE, NOXIOUS FUMES.
TWO ALONE REMAIN;
WAGING A WAR
WITHOUT REASON.
...PERHAPS, ALL FOR A GOOD LAUGH.
“...Just... GIVE... UP ALREADY. "
The ship jumped out of hyperspace. The assault had begun.
Marines donning blue armours rained bolts of laser fire upon shocktrooper marines, who were notably donning red blast armours. The fight was without recourse and without quarter, as the crimson shocktroopers advanced and deployed charges without any safety or concern for their own lives, driving their adversaries into deeper and darker pits. They battled through the decks and the hallways, waging war against one another throughout interminable conflicts, taking shelter behind crates and barricades, allowing their rifles and their grenades do the talking for them. Though I couldn't stick around my compatriots, I had to slip through the firefights in order to plant some of the charges myself.
The war wasn't over yet.
Though the brunt of the fight later moved towards the Cryogenics deck, I was left alone at the hangars, to fend off against one of their strongest lieutenants.
Amsel.
I unloaded five, six, maybe eight or nine whole blue bolts of burning plasma on her. She was nimble, and she was able to deflect and dodge my blows through her sheer inhuman reflexes. But even she had to reach her breaking point eventually.
I was definitely close to reaching mine, anyhow. My brows were soaked with sweat, and blood poured from my shoulder, trickling down my arm and onto the floor. She really messed me up. My grip was becoming more and more shaky, and the corners of my vision were beginning to blur. I had to keep her away from me by keeping distance between us, no matter what.
Her pale, glowing, aloof artificial eyes glared at me with righteous fury. She walked onwards.
“Kristoff, siding with them will not avail you anything."
Focus. Remember her training.
I had to put her down quickly, before more oxygen would be drained away from the already numerous leaks in the Sleeper Ship. I had to end this quickly, and throw myself into the closest escape pod... and... and then...
I aimed again. Nine bolts. The pistol's chamber hissed, emitting smoking vapors, trailing in the cold and failing atmo.
A dodge, a swivel, a parry, a deflection. It's as if I was a slow motion Plasmaball pitcher, and she was a world-renowned batter.
A snarl. She advanced quickly, lunging her plasma spear in my direction, ready to impale me in an instant.
I rolled to the right, narrowly dodging a thrust against my temple. I aimed again.
“GOTCHA."
A single bolt landed on her side, making her poised stance recoil, making her grasp her now smoldering side in screaming agony. Synthetic white blood poured out of her searing wound. She recoiled, as she looked at me with sheer hatred in her eyes. I was just about to put an end to this conflict.
...But before I could pull the trigger again, a jab from her spear sent me careening into the floor.
Bolts of electricity coursed through me, making me feel every single arc and volt twitch across my spine and my arm, as if a million blue tendrils wormed and ripped me apart from the inside, making me clutch my chest in pain, making me see white stars in the back of my vision.
“Ghhh-- ghhkhh... ah-- wh--"
My breath quickened. I had to react, quickly, immediately. Now.
“I've... done everything for you. And... this... is how you repay me?! They want to doom us all, don't you understand?!"
She advanced, whilst gripping her side with her sharp metallic fingers. A model, built to protect, and now, to cause unfettered destruction.
My left arm raised up against her advances, instinctively.
“Just... give it up, Kris. We need the keycard, more than you do. And the only way you're leaving here is through an airlock, along with the rest of your bastard friends."
My artificial eye gleamed - I could feel it sear and burn inside my eye socket, as the targeting system locked onto her chest, completing the final trajectory calculations.
I growled.
“Never."
A bolt of plasma was unleashed from my arm, burning away my entire prosthetic hand in an incandescent instant, unleashing a large bolt of condensed plasma against her chassis.
A curtain of smoke. Ringing ears.
That had to have hit her.
I slowly pulled myself up, leaning on the stump of my charred prosthesis. That was my only, last, best shot I could've had at finally ending that demon's life.
My breath quickened. A pair of white eyes stared at me from behind the wide scorch mark on the ground.
No. No, it can't be.
“YOU CAN'T ESCAPE JUSTICE."
Her damaged figure walked towards me, with a great chunk of her lower torso missing, leaking white blood. Grasping her spear, gleaming with sheer white high-conductivity energy.
I reached for my pouch. The last of my stims. A small canister, gleaming with a silver glow under the ruined hangar bay's bright lights. I jabbed it onto my thigh, trying to strike my femoral vein with shaky hands. The concoction immediately spread its effects throughout my failing body, jolting me awake for the last time.
“Hmm. That was the last of your stimulants, wasn't it."
I reached for my thermal machete. It began to whir to life, as the incandescent blade quickly gained heat, dissipating it behind my hand's movements with a thin smoky trail.
“Nnrgh... maybe so... but let's see who's going to drop dead first. You, me, or the Hispania?"
Her head tilted, producing a taunting smirk to provoke me.
“We shall see about that."
I charged at my former ally with my sharp edge, aiming with a slash for her chest. But her spear was quicker, as she deflected my blow with ease. And another, and another, and yet another, met with parries, and deflections and blocks.
My heart was on the verge of rupturing.
“Y-you... took everything from us. You took our jobs... y-you took our fields... a-and you took my friends!"
The demon's jet black hair swiveled, as she looked around herself, almost appearing prideful of the senseless slaughter of the Coalition shock troopers around the hangar. Slain red marines laid near the stairs, as they all bled to death by the hands of this monster.
“They were your captors. I've freed you."
A sharp finger pointed towards the gleaming red keycard in my breast pocket.
“...That's what I truly believed, until I found out that you've got one of the Alliance's Keys."
The searing pain in my bleeding shoulder returned. I tapped it with my handless prosthetic.
“You're truly an ingrate. We've fought them together for TWO YEARS, and YOU, of all people, had to be an agent for them?!"
“Glory ever to the Coalition, you dog."
I lunged again, and again, and again. An uppercut, a swing, a thrust. Deflected, one and all. Worthless efforts.
Until...
“Wide open!"
A jab from the dull end of her spear. It was far too quick for me to predict.
Another, and another, unloading arcs of lightning into my body. I could barely keep my balance, let alone a solid grip on my weapon. My thermal blade fell to the ground, hissing and seething in silence.
The sharp end of her now turned-off spear was aimed at my neck. Sharp, gleaming, and threatening to carve a fatal wound to end it all.
“...And now... you're done."
I let out a short sigh, raising my hands up in defeat with a smile. I shook my head in mild disbelief.
“Well... shit. You know, you always somehow suspiciously win every time you pick a melee build."
“Well, that's what we're here to work on. Besides, you're not doing yourself any favors by doing these bravados by using... what, a machete? You're running a machete as a ranged build?"
“Well, yeah! I mean, it deals burning damage, doesn't it?"
Amsel would pinch the bridge of her nose, unable to contain a smirk.
“No, you dummy. You want to use this on unarmored human targets! Look at me, I'm all made of plasteel and durasteel polymer alloys. I mean, you would know, you're my damn mechanic of all things, for chrissakes."
I rolled my eyes, returning her a wry smile.
“Well, gee. Sorry I forgot to revise chemistry before doin' this."
Amsel would tilt her head, returning a sincere smile.
“Well... wanna try again? I've got some more time to waste with you."
“Alright, sure. I'll try to remember where I went wrong this time around. Go for it."
She grasped her spear and flourished it, before lunging the sharp end in my jugular, twisting it, and making me cough blood.
As my body fell limp on the floor and my consciousness faded in the back of my eyes, I could feel my warm blood pouring from my neck, forming a crimson pool under my face.
The wound gave off a cozy sensation of peace, as if I had just fallen into a very peaceful Sunday afternoon nap.
...This is all starting to feel a touch too realistic.
