It was a day that would forever be remembered by the Logoruum of Sitabee. A day that would inevitably usher in a new era; an era of heresy, treason, and, finally, evolution.
Mars had not left the control pod in more than a week, constantly listening to the transmissions for any signs of Stellaris in the background hums of the abyss. His return was two months delayed on that fateful day and although life continued as it always had in the station, they had suffered greatly in his absence. He had suffered in his absence.
His mother had not chosen him for succession for many reasons, but most of all, for his sake. He did not handle the pressure of leadership and being forced to make decisions on behalf of the people of Sitabee made his stomach churn with disgust at every meal. He imagined he was quite starved at that point, incapable of keeping down the nutritious stew for longer than hours at a time. Every day, he watched the stores dwindle due to a horrific epidemic of stomach viruses that circulated through the station like wildfire. He had long since traced it to the sloppy practices of the cooks, but once it had infected the first of the citizens, it was already too late. It would continue to circulate until every last one of them had developed immunity and this strain was aggressive - capable of re-infecting the recovered in a week’s time.
Naturally, the people needed someone to blame and, though Mars hated himself for it, he was glad they had chosen Guy as their scapegoat. Their sacrificial lamb. Every day, they would come to the control pod and demand his exile - that it was his doing, in tinkering with the system, that he had caused this plague. Nothing could be further from the truth, as it was only due to Guy’s boosting of the water purifier that half of them had not succumbed to dehydration, as all three of them needed to run at double their rate to produce enough for them.
As Mars sat in the darkness, he questioned what an awful leader he was to allow the people to hate their savior. He had worked tirelessly for them and received nothing but spit with which he could shine his boots. And he… yes, he had fought for him - protested and explained, but had he fought hard enough? Had he truly tried?
“Come the fuck on, Stell… Come in, Stell! Come back, you asshole!” He shouted into the throne’s panel, just as he had a thousand times already… but again… nothing.
He slammed his head against the back of the chair and punched the worn metal of the solid chair with an exclamation of “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!”
“Language, uncle…” A timid voice spoke from the door. So wrapped up in his anger, he had failed to hear the chime to see the arrival of Luna. She was meek, as starved as he was, but with a hopeful smile that quickly drained away as he shook his head, swinging his sparse hair around - he had torn most of it out, by then.
“L-Luna… sorry, I didn’t see you… sorry, there’s nothing new.” With a forced, straight back she stepped in to shake her head and remind him: “Stop apologizing. You’re the Chief now, remember? Be confident. It’s not your fault, anyways… he’s just out of reach.” He drew a long breath of air and shielded his eyes as her movement caused the photocell to activate the bright, white lights - illuminating the cluttered office of torn-open displays and scrap. Yes, he needed to be strong. If not for him, if not for the People, then for her. He nodded but remained in his chair - too weak to rise.
“Tempers unknown and all that. S-... I’m glad to see you, Luna. It feels so long…” She closed the door and walked in to take a seat on the one chair not covered in wiring and parts. They stared at one another, sharing in their misery of longing. He had voiced his displeasure, his concern, and the tear of his duties a hundred times over, but he had promised himself he’d stop. As far as he was concerned, she was his only living relative at that point - he needed to be her pillar, as was the way of the Logoruum… that, combined with the shunning she had received for fraternizing with Guy, she had so few to talk to.
But despite her isolation, despite her missing father, she seemed to radiate something - despite her famished cheeks. By all accounts, she should’ve been miserable and worried, but… she was eerily at ease, almost happy. Or perhaps she, too, had decided to be his pillar? To be a source of strength in these trying times? He resisted the urge to scoff, as he knew the reason far too well. How couldn’t he? The two missing rebreathers, suits, and flippers - the unused room at the far end of corridor 26. Luna had, finally, found herself, someone, with whom she could share her curiously isolated life. How far they had come from fearing this ‘angel’ to be so dependent on him in so many ways.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
He smiled, put his elbow on the cold chair’s metal, and rested his weary head on his palm.
“I was in love once, you know. Maria was her name - it’s different now, of course. She ended up marrying off-station, over in Sitalii. Good thing, too. She had a temper, not unlike yours, but without the charm.” She enjoyed hearing the story - enjoyed hearing that Mars had been happy once, in a life long since passed. She had heard it many times before, of course, as it was one of his few stories that did not pertain to work, but she had never truly understood it. Now that her heart fluttered every evening as she stared at Guy’s sleeping body, she could honestly say that it made sense to her.
“Make sure he pulls out. I don’t think we can feed another mouth around here.” This broke her trance and reminded her that, despite being weary and exhausted, Mars was still Mars.
“Eww! D-Don’t say stuff like that! That’s disgusting - we’re proper kids, y’know!” Mars knew all too well what ‘proper kids’ did behind closed doors; when they left sense out in the waters and obeyed naught but raging hormones.
“B-Besides… We know… the station’s in trouble and we’re doing all we can to help it. Dad needs to return with the core soon or things are gonna get worse. Way worse. That’s what Guy says.”
Mars hated hearing that. He raised an eyebrow and nodded in a motion for her to continue. She looked into his eyes with a strict brow as she explained: “We’re producing a lot of sewage and we don’t have enough grow-beds to filter it… the cycle’s breaking and we… we can’t keep up. I, Menta, and Guy have been scavenging in 12-hour shifts, but we can’t find the parts we need; they’ve all broken down in the water.” Curiously, she seemed to handle the pressure of this role she had assumed far better than Mars had. Whereas he paled, she seemed to live up to the challenge with a high-held head and a furrowed brow. He leaned into the palm supporting his head and rubbed his pained temples in circular motions.
“What’s the fix? Is there a fix?” Luna leaned back on her chair and folded her hands in her lap, staring at the floor.
“He’s been working on it ever since the epidemic broke out, but… we’re shit outta luck. At this rate, it’ll stabilize when… when…” She could not force herself to say it. She choked on a hard lump forming in her throat - the scenario that Guy had painted weeks ago becoming an increasingly more likely outcome.
“It’ll stabilize once enough of our population dies off… when all the elderly and the children have succumbed to sickness, hunger, and dehydration.” He spoke the grim words with such profound darkness, aware of the dreadful potential… the only outcome.
She nodded, slowly, never once daring to meet his gaze. He leaned back on his chair and stifled an urge to tear apart his brother’s office again, finally addressing the shark in the room.
“I don’t have a choice, Luna… by God, if I had any other choice, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But I can’t let our people die. We’re soon at that point where we’re facing inevitable death. The station’s dying one way or another - I can’t sit by and watch it happen.” They had had this conversation before and countless times, Luna had managed to stay his hand with the promise of her father’s return… but seeing as he was yet to do so… she could no longer voice her objection.
“I… I understand. It’s your duty to think about our people, Mars. I won’t agree to it. I’m objecting, let that be noted, but I understand.” Mars finally leaned forwards; it was all he could do not to cry. He so desperately needed to hear someone say it - to hear her say it. But even in the face of their certain doom, she would not agree to it. Again, he pleaded: “Please, Luna… we can handle a ton of fish. We’ll pick a species low in nitrogen, just please… support me on this…”
Before she could launch into another protest, another chime sounded from the door. The scream of a woman sounded from outside - another visitor, likely there to shout more objections at him. Luna rose up and took a step back to watch as a desperate, young woman, a couple of years older than herself stepped inside. She wore a long, white dress - the type only mothers would wear to obscure their recovering abdomens as they receded in place. But it was as loose as the thermo-blanket cradled in her arms.
Her eyes were wide and red, tears still streaming down her malnourished cheeks. Sensing that something was dreadfully amiss, Mars quickly shot up from his chair, his adrenaline all that kept him from fainting to the floor. He quickly leaped over to tend to the weeping, screaming woman and drew back the shroud in her arms; suffering the screamed pleas for assistance cutting into his ears… but her voice disappeared as soon as he drew back the white blanket. Everything simply vanished as he looked at the shell of a baby she had in her arms.
It barely appeared human with how thin it was; starved, sickly, and… deathly still. Whether Logos had blessed him or cursed him by dropping this insight into his lap just as they had this conversation, it was the final push he needed to steel himself to make the most difficult decision their people had ever made. To avoid this - to save the People… the system had to be broken.