The images still flashed through Guy’s mind. Stellaris’ departure celebrations had been a hellish cacophony of noise and impressions - hundreds of people crammed into the massive pool canton, surrounding the submerging hull of the sub nautic vehicle carrying Luna’s father out into the unknown in search of the legendary, much-needed core. That sensation at the back of his mind had been incessant, warning him of every foul look and narrowed pair of eyes he had received from the other inhabitants of the station. The rumors of his arrival had preceded him, it seemed and, despite having Luna and Mars at his sides, the others made little effort to conceal their skepticism of him.
He did not mind skepticism, nor did he mind the fear. But that divine voice in the back of his mind seemed to sharpen his senses to the point her could hear their heartbeats, their breaths - their hundreds if not thousands of bootsteps against the metal floor. He had hated himself for it, but he felt relieved as the sub finally disappeared and the cheering stopped as the crowds quickly died down and left him and Luna in the deathly silence of the hall.
He hadn’t caught their farewell but knew it had been a miserable business on both accounts. She was greatly saddened by his departure and had found private corners in which to cry on several occasions. Not knowing what to do in those situations, he had simply turned towards the closest panel and continued to survey the life-support system’s dreadful reports until she’d arrived at his side, suddenly refreshed enough to smile.
But it had been a month since his departure and life was returning to normal around the station. He had visited the cantina and, under the guidance of his beautiful host, he had learned how to get in the line and have his dish delivered from a humongous vat of reeking mushrooms. He, like her, hated that room - it was one of the many things they shared, but for different reasons. He could hear them across the vast hall, whispering about him as he entered; speaking of ill omens and superstitions he could scarcely even deny. He so longed to go to one of those tall panes of glass and look out at the world outside, but he’d always see someone in his way - someone more than willing to glare at him as he passed them.
Luna hated the way her fellow stationeers treated Guy. The rumors were like a plague - spreading and growing more vicious by every cycle. Unsurprisingly, none had heard of him and the story of how he had arrived at the station was under heavy scrutiny by the hivemind of the masses. But Mars, like Guy, insisted on just giving them time - that he could potentially prove himself by doing his duties.
When it came to his duties, he was as impressive with a wrench as he was with a display. It seemed he intrinsically, instinctively knew his way around machinery like none other in the station; capable of tweaking the sacred System in ways that the populace had deemed sacrilege. Still, he kept going - fiercely determined to maintain and effectivize the system, even having gone as far as to extend the life expectancy of the core by several hundred percent. The data was no longer lying; it now showed they would have another ten years before the core finally gave out, buying her Father more time to succeed in his expeditions.
It was interesting seeing Guy work. She sat on a defunct, cannibalized grow bed and watched as his body disappeared into the large, brown-rusted machine, clicking a wrench against numerous well-oiled cogs. For whatever reason, she found herself drawn to staring at his backside whenever he did it - a shapely, square thing of muscles not befitting a man as starved as he was. But it was a calming sight, one that brought her feet to swing beneath her as she hummed a melody her mother had taught her in a previous life - a life that seemed so long ago.
From inside the metal box, she heard his voice speak: “So if I’ve understood this right… This system is closed. You don’t waste anything outside and you don’t bring anything outside unless the life-support says you can?” She brought a hand to her chin and nodded before remembering there was no way he could see the gesture from inside the growbed.
“Yeah, that’s right. If we dump waste, we’ll attract the Monstrum.” He crawled backwards to look at her with those eyes that made her insides churn; eyes of judgment? Of guilt? It was an expression she had yet to make sense of, that frown and those narrowed eyes.
“What?” She asked.
He seemed hesitant as he next voiced: “You’ve never seen this ‘Monstrum’. Your father has, but he’s the only one… but everyone’s so afraid of them. If you could abandon the agricultural system, you’d be able to live comfortably for your entire life. I talked to your uncle about catching fish and scavenging for food outside. Don’t you ever want to take that risk?” She did not blame him for asking those questions. She’d long since learned that he was like a child, in many aspects. He needed to be taught to respect the systems he otherwise understood so deeply. She shook her head and continued to swing her legs. “No… that life wouldn’t be very long. As you said, I’ve never seen the Monstrum, but my dad has. He said it was a fate worse than death; that it captures us and uses us to feed it. I’m still not sure what that means, but it fits with our history. Mars is a radical… a lot of our people are. They’re so hungry that it’s easy to think along those lines, that’s why the Commander has to be stalwart in his adherence to the rules.”
It seemed as good an answer as any and Guy quietly turned back towards the growbed. He often did that - let a conversation hang when he disagreed with her. “It’s all right if you don’t agree, Guy. But I’d like to hear what you think…”
The wrenching momentarily stilled. Guy seemed to ponder his next words carefully before voicing: “I’m not sure who I am. And I’m not sure where I belong… but I hate where you’ve been forced to live. It’s dark and cold out there - this metal’s all that’s keeping you alive. I feel like humans should be out there and up under the skies… This Monstrum has forced you down here… and it can’t even be fought.” The latter part sounded more like a question than a statement of his mind. But the darkness in his voice was undeniable - hatred, pure and simple. Not for the station, not for its people, but for the Monstrum. Whatever past experiences he had, she imagined this was not new.
She kept swinging her legs and nodded understandingly. “I know what you mean… but… I can’t do anything about it - I won’t say you can’t, but it’s unlikely. So, I’ll do what I can, where I am. Besides, it’s not that bad, right? There’s good people down here.” His head appeared from a dismantled plate to smile a cheeky smile at her and nod agreeingly. He liked these confident jests of hers.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“There are. So you’d better be safe out there or I’ll use my angelic powers to come get you.” She found it bemusing he was starting to see the irony of her absurd tale. To think she’d ever been afraid of the relaxed, wise man inhabiting the body of a boy about her age.
She giggled, requesting: “Promise?”
“Well, it’s not a threat.” He chuckled warmly in response.
Just as the conversation was warming up, the chime of the door cut through the comfortable, heated atmosphere of Guy’s workshop and a large brute of a man shattered the quiet of the chamber.
Menta was eighteen cycles old; a year and a half older than Luna but appeared even older due to his stature and size. He had served as a scavenger since he was old enough to fit an enviro suit and flippers and took full use of their larger rations to pack on muscle. Luna immediately shuddered, her legs stilled in the air as he sucked the joy from the room and stepped inside, brushing his black, salt-licked hair to the left.
He raised his fists to his hip and looked to the source of the clicks with displeasure and disgust - one far too eager to buy into Guy’s club of dedicated haters’ lies. Luna was well aware of his interest in her and she had made it clear on several occasions that she was not and never would be interested in the dumb brute. Their proximity on the scav-team had only further increased her dislike of him, especially due to his constant spouting of lies about Guy; speaking of conspiracies and failing systems that coincided with his arrival. This wasn’t about Guy at all - this was about competition. It was as if he thought that turning the two against one another would somehow make him seem more likable, to which he was sorely mistaken. Even if he was the last man on the station, she’d rather date a starfish.
“Logos give me strength…”
“Lookie there. Sabotaging the sacred system with your heresy again, Guy?” As was usual, Guy simply ignored the monstrous man, even as his boots began clanging toward the dilapidated machine. Luna did not.
“You watch your fucking mouth, Menta. If it hadn’t been for his tinkering, we’d have been fucked within a year cycle.” The scavenger stopped mid-floor and narrowed his eyes at her, obvious in the signaling of his disdain for the stranger. She returned his glare and folded her arms over her supple chest, unafraid of the macho beast. He returned to stare at the box and scoffed a bitter: “Maybe that says something about the Commander’s running of the system, rather than this goofball’s treason.” He immediately regretted his decision as a resounding slap preceded a profound burning to his cheek. To his left, Luna had never seemed more frightening as she heaved for air and shouted: “What the fuck do you mean!? Are you criticizing the commander!?”
Guy took this as a sign it was time for a pause and crawled out of the box, stealing back Menta’s attention. “I didn’t mean it like that… fuck, never mind. I just get so angry around this fucking guy. Don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s breaking the teachings by screwing with the system.” Guy rose to his height and calmly approached Luna, as if not having heard the brute at all. He was well used to the abuse, after all.
In truth, he had felt something before Luna slapped him as if knowing she would strike out before she did. It had been something in the air, a smell of adrenaline or fury - a taste of her anger, conveyed from that presence at the back of his mind. He could still feel it, that heat radiating off of her - that anger… and it did something to him, it filled his mind with vivid imagery of a most disgusting procedure. Of violation and violence that escaped all reason; a vision he had seen many times before.
Menta broke the silence by continuing: “Whatever… Sorry, L. I didn’t mean it like that - I really didn’t. Guy just pisses me off…” She still stood there, heaving for breath with her teeth bared aggressively next to her mute, cold counterpart. Obviously unnerved by the sight, Menta rubbed his gaunt cheek and continued: “I came to get you. We’ve got scrap to collect and time’s running out. As soon as your dad comes back, we’ll head out to Sitalii. Just the two of us.” The last comment was directly aimed at Guy who seemed not to mind it the least - his mind was still battling the intrusive imagery.
Luna crossed her arms and scoffed. “Keep me out of your dick-measuring. We’re going there for trading and that’s it. If you’re so eager to work, let’s go… at least I can’t hear you underwater.” Little did she know, conversation was the last thing on her mind when he shone his flashlight on her tight atmospheric suit.
To all of their surprise, Guy broke from his staring at Luna to mutter: “I’d win that contest. You really should wear something on top of your suit.” Guy turned to demonstratively stare at Menta’s crotch, where a slight protrusion promised a disappointing prize. Luna’s lips immediately split into a malicious grin; a mocking laugh escaped her throat, but before she could look to verify Guy’s observations, a flash of movement stole away her attention.
Guy could feel it before he saw it. A far more bitter fragrance of adrenaline preceded a single step forwards from Menta’s powerful legs. In his peripheral view, he could see the approaching fist aimed square at his orbit. The mechanic’s body moved on its own, side-stepping the blow with ease. He used the momentum of his step to raise his knee and slammed it into Menta’s diaphragm - an impressive feat for his comparatively smaller size.
Be it with shock or due to the attack itself, Menta collapsed forwards; expelling a hoarse expulsion of breath as his lungs were forced into a decompression.
He was on his fours, struggling to control his breathing when Luna looked at Guy with amazement - an expression he was all too eager to return, blinking his eyes with mirroring surprise. His stare said it all - it had been as unexpected to him as it had been to the brute and his astonishing host.
When the surprise of his swift movement faded, Luna bent down next to the struggling Menta to calmly say: “I hope you learned a lesson from this. Now, if you’re done horsing around on the floor, can we go already? Guy’s got important work to do and we should get out of his hair.” She had never been as smugly pleased for all her years on the station. The mechanic’s wrath had been a thing of beauty, fading as quickly as it had arisen. To her, he was radiant in his confusion - beautiful in his regret. More than worthy of a coup de grace to Menta’s embarrassment.
She lunged across the retching body, gathered her feet, and stood next to the stranger to stare up at him from a proximity far closer than ever before. In fact, for all she could remember, she had never stood so close to anyone. But so fueled by the adrenaline, she did not mind it in the least, not even as she got up on her toes to plant a wet kiss on his warm cheek, lengthy enough to make sure Menta saw it.
For all his confusion in the ways of Man, it seemed Guy understood the gesture and quickly flushed a bright red, raising his hand to touch the ground zero of the affectionate kiss, involuntarily smiling ever-so-slightly as she winked and said: “You be careful not to electrocute yourself, all right? I need you to scav with me once this oaf’s gotten himself killed.” She raised her fingers to her left breast to find an endearing triangle, nodding slightly before darting out the door - the shame of her gesture dawning on her, little by little.
Menta hurriedly shambled to his feet, still dizzied by the powerful knee - determined to depart as soon as possible, as he had no interest in spending a second longer than needed in the presence of this damnable fiend. Before he departed out the door, he turned to glare at the calm mechanic and warned:
“You’ll pay for that, you fucker. I’ll get you in the end.”