Aedan cleared his dry throat, "Um, yes? Who's this?" he asked, absently leaning a hip against the railing overlooking the lower atrium to make some room for the after-hours foot traffic that was now starting to steadily flow across the upper landings.

He was also a fan of people-watching and could happily lose track of time by just absorbing the life occurring below him. People conversing at those cold, metallic tables while sitting in those uncomfortable, industrial plastic chairs and eating their choice of incredibly generic "foods" while sipping on a curated selection of the station's finest "beverages".

Even from this distance, he could smell the variety of sickly sweet, savory, and greasy scents of food mixing and mingling with loud conversations, laughter, shouting, and scraping utensils as it floated up to him in a miasma of late-night impulsive dining choices and dirty jokes.

While most were already sitting, eating, talking, or rowdily jostling at their tables, some were only now carrying their trays and plates to the food dispensers or looking for some of the few remaining empty tables.

Taking in everything at a glance, he could see large cylindrical kegs with drink labels at some of the larger tables, with the rest of the spaces dominated by dozens of trays and plates packed with heapings of hot dogs, steaming chili, chicken fingers with fries, corn dogs, burritos, tacos, hamburgers, colorful cream cheese topped bagels, glistening muffins, large bags of chips, trays of cookies, candy bars, and greasy topping-less pizzas.

He could almost taste all of that food waiting for him- a rumbling in his gut reminding him of that fact.

If there was one bright side to serving what was essentially a life sentence aboard a high orbital, penal commercial mining platform in a slice of real estate that was only good for the resources that could be carved out of it, was that starvation was low on the list of things to worry about.

Food dispensers were cheap yet complex pieces of modern biochemical machinery, better known as the lifeblood of any deep space operation. Their necessity couldn't be overestimated. They were also deceptively complex despite appearing as featureless, squat boxes bolted into the walls- almost like industrial microwaves. Unfortunately, that level of complexity also required a three-person team of veteran workers, or at least technicians with half-a-brain who could read a manual and repair on the fly. These people didn't exist. And if they did, they weren't slumming it as maintenance workers.

It was around every three months that someone would order their desired meal and instead of their momma's famous lasagna recipe, out would spew a colorless, ass-reeking, carbonated protein fluid that served as the base building block of all the actual food. That protein fluid was what provided everyone with all the necessary nutrients and essential vitamins they needed to stay healthy, strong, and mentally balanced- combined with a lot of chemical love to make it palatable. Because everything else, like the flavors, colors, smells, and textures were a result of neurochemistry, nutrient-less food dye, and a whole lot of biosynthetic processes in air-sealed compartments that generated yeast with the capacity to produce the common nutrients and mimic sensory attributes of terrestrial-grown ingredients.

Fixing machines capable of synthesizing microbial-based food that produced little to no waste products? The sheer engineering and chemical efficiency behind that kind of production ratio left very little room for maintenance errors.

The handbooks on those contraptions were almost as large as the things themselves; the memories of stripping off the rank and sopping wet working tights before hopping into the shower made him shudder.

Aedan looked away as he felt a tension headache coming on at the thought, instead choosing to re-focus on the conversation despite wanting nothing more than to rip off his suit, grab a bite, down some ice-cold water, and crawl into his bunk.

"Ah, excellent, okay let's see here..." the man's voice sounded distracted.

Aedan picked up on some soft terminal chimes and digital-sounding whooshes in the background that only interfaces or some personal com-devices made.

He was tired and not in the mood for this stranger's abundant energy.

"Look, I'm about to sign off for the night so-" he started, only for the man to plow right over without stopping to take a breath.

"Oh! I'm sorry, that's completely on me, my apologies Technician Sones, it wasn't my intention to cause any undue stress and this won't take that much longer, I promise," he took a breath.

"Name's Carly Nesell, adjunct systems manager for Section Head Monson-" he sounded incredibly proud of himself as he introduced that small tidbit, "-a pleasure to meet you! Tonight, I'll be helping you get properly situated in your new quarters before the start of the next work cycle. And otherwise, I'll be acting on Mr. Monson's behalf to relay any important work assignments or information he might want you to have."

Aedan's fatigue somewhat receded as he stood up straighter while silently digesting everything before confusedly muttering, "New quarters?..." with a strange look in his eyes.

The suit's speakers still picked it up though, so the man happily replied, "That's right! We've already got everything set up for you in... well in this same section's Residential District. And looks like the room's access codes have been updated... yup, that's the place, and... mhm, yeah, yeah we're all good, we can get started right away if you're ready?" Carly's voice had started trailing off as he seemingly spoke to himself for a few moments before rejoining the conversation and asking the question.

"Um," Aedan didn't know what to say so he cleared his throat again and went with: "Yeah, sure."

"Great! Let's- Oh! Wait a second, didn't you just got done with those master junction box repairs? 'Masterful' work!" Carly chuckled at his pun. Aedan blinked- the silence uncomfortably stretching until Carly gave a dry cough.

"...Also, you should know Mr. Monson thinks you did a great job! Anyway-" he clapped, "-let's get this show on the road, huh? I'll let you get changed now, so just call me back on the same frequency with your personal once you're ready; sound good? Okay, we'll talk soon." The call was dropped on his end, showing a "Transmission Ended" notification before entirely vanishing. Aedan's helmet was suddenly very quiet.

'Wow... just, wow.' Aedan tiredly thought, sagging against the railing and giving the populated cafeteria below a final glance, trying to string together some ideas behind the sudden room change and being in the apparent good graces of a Section Head.

A strange glint passed through his eyes before he pushed off the railing with a sigh, moving to join a small group of three other shuffling Indents making their way to the locker rooms. The one in front glanced back as they rolled their right shoulder, revealing a very familiar brunette woman with her hair tied back in a working bun.

'Just my luck,' Aedan thought, in time for recognition to flash in the woman's tired eyes as she registered who was walking behind her.

She cracked a wicked grin and motioned Aedan forward as she pressed a switch on the side of her neck, causing her helmet to open at the front and slide to the back of her neck, sealing itself away safely in a protective casing along the upper back. Aedan walked up beside her as his helmet copied the action with a snick.

"Hey, Lyne," he took the initiative by speaking first and giving her a polite nod.

"Hey yourself," Lyne replied smartly, then cocked an eye as she took in his appearance.

"The fuck happened to you? Didn't get a chance to wack off this morning, or what?" she asked rather loudly, causing one of the other people ahead of them to briefly look back before suddenly speeding up.

Aedan scoffed, a tired smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth as he ran a hand through his damp hair.

"Nice," he sighed, tipping his chin up toward the way to the lockers with his head and starting forward, "and you wonder why no one likes sitting with you during dinner or rec time," he said. Lyne caught up in a single stride and matched his pace.

"Not my fault they've got no sense of humor," she said mock smugness.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Yup. They're the ones at fault," Aedan emotionlessly replied, nodding along.

"Damn right," she affirmed, then glanced at Aedan out of the corner of her eyes.

"Seriously though, what's going on?" she asked, her eyes narrowed. Aedan wanted to roll his eyes; she always took it as a personal challenge to figure out what could be bothering him.

"You look... worse than usual," she concluded, social cues and etiquette be damned.

"Wow..." Aedan paused and tilted his head to the side with a faraway look, she stopped beside him with a questioning look.

"...Dony is one lucky guy," he finished, then rounded a corner to their left, walking deeper into the main facility and approaching the final stretch before the locker rooms. Lyne fell into stride with him again just as the last person in the group ahead of them disappeared into the men's area.

"Fuck you. And yes, yes he is," Lyne primly replied, though she slowed down as they got closer and finally stopped just before they were going to part ways when she noticed Aedan was going to keep walking. She stuck an arm out in front of his chest, forcing him to stop unless he wanted to barrel through and be a complete asshole. She knew he wouldn't. Which is why she did it.

"Stop," she said, turning to face him and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Talk," her eyes bore into him as she silently waited.

A hand full of other plodding night shift stragglers filtered past them, softly swearing or giving them lingering glances as they had to weave around them since they stopped almost directly in front of the forking path that lead to either locker room. Lyne didn't spare them either a look or a thought, and Aedan seemed a little too preoccupied and tired to care about her antics and lack of basic courtesies.

"It's nothing, really," he said, noticing Lyne's growing annoyance. She cocked an eyebrow, "But...?" she prompted with an arm.

Aedan sighed, "But... one of the bosses might want me as a retainer."

Lyne's eyes narrowed, "the devil-bitch?!" she hissed in angry disbelief.

"Thank god, no," he scoffed, quickly alleviating her worries.

Lyne had every right to be concerned when it came to Section Head Rookson. She was a fucking evil. An insidious old shrew who somehow always got away with basically torturing Indents in her section with their duties. Aedan had only met one guy who'd walked out of that section's monthly duty roster with any semblance of their soul intact. But that guy also ate two baked hot dogs with extra mustard for lunch every day, so he was fucked in the head as it was.

Lyne's aggressive posture returned to normal, though she looked like she wanted to punch him. Then she did, right in the shoulder. Hard.

"Asshole! Making me worry like that," she fumed, then stood back with arms crossed and hip cocked out to the side, "-so who then? What's the deal?"

Aedan thought about it before replying, "I don't want to say anything about it right now, but-" he interjected before she could angrily reply, "-I'll let you know soon, maybe even tomorrow."

"That soon, huh?" she asked, looking thoughtful.

"Just a feeling," he replied, seemingly not catching the hint of sarcasm in her tone.

He did, however, catch the next punch aimed at his other shoulder without looking. He gave her the 'seriously?' look.

Lyne pulled her fist back with some surprise, then pouted.

"You know you should tell me now if you know something, right?" she asked, "I can't help if you're keeping secrets," an accusatory, simmering anger lingered behind her tone.

Aedan wanted to say something along the lines of 'I didn't ask for your help', but he knew that would've been as good as setting off a deep sea mining charge, so he opted to go with: "It's not secrets, it's uncertainty. Who knows-" he shrugged, "-we could be getting worked up over nothing."

He turned around and started toward the men's locker rooms, calling over his shoulder: "I'll talk to you again soon, promise."

Lyne watched him walk away.

"Asshole," she muttered, frowning in thought as she entered the women's side.

Aedan exited the men's locker rooms from another area, this one facing the section's residential modules.

He now wore regulation leisure wear identifying him as an off-shift Indent. He didn't mind- they were comfortable and excellent to sleep in when the environmental control module went down.

He took a deep breath and reached into his pants pocket, removing a communication device and checking the transmission index before reluctantly selecting the most recent call. He held it up to his ear.

"Hello, hello, again! This means you're all set to get started, Mr. Sones?" Carly somehow sounded even more energetic than the last time they'd spoken.

"Yes, I'm ready," Aedan replied, hoping this would be over sooner rather than later as he was still hungry and tired and wanted to make it over to the cafeteria as soon as possible.

"Excellent! So, if you'll just start down Ellison's Passage to your right, I can tell you a bit about this section's history-"

Aedan winced, glancing over longingly at the hundred-plus foot drop beside him as he walked along and listened to Carly's excited prattling regarding the station's many historical highlights over the past sixty years.

Thirty minutes later, and after a series of one monumental surprise after another, he found himself standing in front of a nondescript door wearing a new change of clothes, and in the corner of an otherwise empty observation lounge on the section's highest level. Sniffing, he keyed his new personal clearance codes into a panel beside the door.

The door silently parted down the middle as it opened, revealing a luxuriously quaint, dimly lit sit-down diner with a small but prominent viewport offering a gorgeous look at Blue Sky's broad, swooping, sapphire horizon line. Aedan tiredness vanished, his feet walking into the room of their own volition- the door quietly closing behind him.

The room was downright beautiful.

Gentle, earth-tone terrestrial-style chairs and dining booths straight out of the monthly edition of a NetMag featuring the newest in-style, top-of-line indoor furnishings, and interior decorating styles- aesthetically placed around to give a sense of close comfort. There were even real non-native flora decoratively arranged in the corners beside some of the small, square tables. Those plants had to have been imported to the station- finding a private merchant captain with the proper environmental life support greenhouse module was difficult enough, but then purchasing their services for something as niche as transporting live, non-frozen plant specimens over long distances was astronomically expensive.

The soft sounds of boiling water, the shuffling of shoes, and metallic pots and pans being moved around behind the bar mingled with the delicious scent of something cooking. He knew something was being prepared by hand because there wasn't the ambient noise associated with an operating food processor. He'd never smelled fresh food being prepared before, so he didn't know what those ingredients were, but he knew that part of what he smelled was some ridiculously rich and savory meat being prepared with... real butter and fresh spices?

Aedan couldn't help but take a slow, deep breath, closing his eyes as he savored the overwhelming sensations. This small room was a monument to excessive opulence on something like a deep space mining station- and he doubted he'd get to enjoy something like this again.

Someone lightly cleared their throat.

Aedan cracked open an eye, then opened the other and gave a warm smile when seeing a cute, uniformed woman standing a respectful distance in front of him. Her hands were on her hips, and a slight frown tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"Can I help you with something, sir...?" she politely inquired with a raised eyebrow, though very clearly implying that he should have already turned around and been on his way.

"Maybe," he replied, shrugging, "-I was told to come here and to bring-" he fished a golden token out of his pocket, holding it up between his thumb and forefinger, "-this. Know anything about it?" he asked.

This time, the frown lines on her forehead noticeably creased as she stepped closer to examine him and the token through narrowed eyes. Her lips pursed as she carefully took in his new appearance, her gaze lingering slightly longer on the new insignia above his left breast, then at the single, vertical silver bar on his collar before her demeanor drastically shifted. Her posture markedly relaxing, and she gave a slight nod and adopted a friendly, respectful tone as she addressed him again.

"You have my apologies, sir. We don't get many new faces here, so I only wanted to protect the privacy of those dining tonight," she stood aside, presenting the interior of the diner to him once more.

"Your token is valid, and now that we've met, I will no longer stop you at the door. But no matter what, if you want to eat or drink, you'll need to present the chef with your token- so do be sure to not lose it!" she delicately smiled, then motioned over to one of the open tables over in the corner.

"You are free to seat yourself as you wish, tonight we're serving-"

"That's alright, Renée," a familiar voice sounded out from one of the occupied booths in the back corner.

Aedan's eyes instantly locked onto the booth, a look passing through his eyes as he took in the large man lounging in the low light.

A pair of orange irises stared back over heavy brows.

"Mr. Sones and I will be dining together; send him over, please."