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Deep Regret

Preston Coretel bounced his hand on his knee and looked around the small windowless compartment he had called home for the past week. Since escaping Earth, he had surreptitiously changed ships at the first space station to throw off anyone who was potentially following him. He was now on a slightly larger freighter that took on passengers who were willing to trade comfort for lower cost. Preston was accustomed to austere environments, and so the past week had not been overly difficult for him. He seldom left his quarters, instead preferring to study and meditate in peace.

He had hoped that somehow space would allow him to more easily cast aside his regret and shame. That somehow the void that threatened his spirit would rise out of him and get lost in the depths of the emptiness surrounding the freighter. The opposite seemed to be the case. He remembered looking out a view port as the ship left dock and navigated to the proper entry-point. Once in position, the edges of the ship shimmered as the EmDrive engaged and they entered a micro-space corridor. Preston had hoped that as they blinked out of physical existence, his past would stay behind. As he had feared, no physics defying travel through space would be able to assuage the sorrow he felt over his past: a past that continued to feel indelible.

A knock on his door broke him from his reverie. Preston stood, wondering if it was already meal time. For the past few days a nice young woman had been knocking on his door to let him know that the mess hall was serving food. Normally that was announced over the intercom in each room, but Preston had discovered early on that his intercom was less than functional. The woman was one door down and had discovered that he was not getting the messages, so she had decided to help him out. Usually Preston declined going to get food, preferring his solitude and the rations he had packed himself.

When he opened the door he discovered that his assumption had been accurate. It was his neighbor letting him know about meal time. She stood smiling as he creaked the rusty door open.

“Its meal time. Interested in going today?”

Preston looked back over his shoulder at his bunk that he had been sitting on. It seemed that only dark paths were to be found if he remained in solitude tonight, so he looked back to the smiling hopeful face before him and slightly bowed his head in affirmation that he would indeed be interested in getting food.

They navigated their way through the maze of corridors and bulkheads to the galley and the chow hall. Smells wafted out from the galley. Preston wrinkled his nose and briefly pondered reconsidering his choice to eat the provided food based on the pungent odor assaulting his nostrils. He looked over at his neighbor as she pranced through the chow hall bulkhead and decided that regardless of the quality of the food, he could use some time not in solitude. Her general exuberance was borderline offensive to him in his current state. That fact alone confirmed, in his mind, that he needed to spend time out of solitude. He had learned that depression was a downward spiral that often became self perpetuating. He knew that in order to break out of his downward spiral he needed to do the complete opposite of what he wanted to do. At that exact moment, his meal companion flashed him a smile and handed him a tray. In his contemplations, he had not even realized they had made their way over to the food line.

After handing him the tray, the woman broke the silence. “I’m Nasha by the way.” She paused as if to add something but then seemed to think better of it and instead looked up at Preston expectantly.

The silence between them became obvious when her slight smile twisted into a quizzical eyebrow raise. Preston started when he realized that she had been expecting his name in return. Preston reprimanded himself for not being in the moment. He vowed to himself that he would stay in the present for the rest of the meal. Having established that goal for himself, he broke the pregnant silence. “It is great to officially know your name Nasha. I’m Preston.”

With his response, her smile returned larger than ever and the awkwardness that had descended over their exchange evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. They made their way to a small table and sat down. Preston picked up his spoon and watched the slop dribble off the end back into his bowl. When he peered up at Nasha, she was digging into her meal as if it was one of the best meals she had had in some time. Preston chuckled to himself at how pitiful he was acting. He was accustomed to austerity, but his bad mood had made him so much more sensitive and self absorbed. Suppressing his self-indulgent self-pity, he began eating, though not with the same gusto Nasha exhibited.

Half of her food already gone, Nasha paused and eyed Preston. “What’s your story Preston?” She punctuated her question with another mouthful of the gruel. When Preston was not immediately forthcoming, she gulped down her mouthful, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I just love hearing people’s stories and I figured a monk on a deep space voyage would have a real whopper.” She elucidated.

Preston watched her eyes as she immediately went back to eating and saw no ulterior motive in those young innocent pools. It seemed that she was incorrigibly good natured. He cracked a slim smile and realized that he quite enjoyed her exuberant naivety. After a slight moment to think what he was willing to reveal, he began. “Well Nasha, I am not able to tell you everything, but I can tell you about why I am on this ship.”

She pouted her bottom lip in mock protest of his reticence, but quickly smiled at him to continue.

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Just as he opened his mouth, Nasha chirped in. “What kind of monk are you? I have never met a monk and I have really only heard of them in old stories.”

Preston nodded politely at her interruption and began to answer her when she cut in again. “I mean, religion died out ages ago so you must be some sort of new thing?”

Preston let out a barking laugh. “Nasha. If you want answers, you have to allow me the chance to answer your questions.” He recognized her rudeness as the well-meaning inquisitive exuberance it actually was. With his admonition, she smirked and drew her pinched fingers across her lips.

Finally able to speak, Preston looked her in the eyes. “I am definitely not something new. You are partially correct in thinking that religion died out. There was a serious effort to eradicate all of the faith systems. The effort was only partially successful. I belong to a faith some know as Christianity. We call ourselves followers of The Way.

Nasha nodded along and took a swig of water.

“You could say that I am on a bit of a pilgrimage that could have incredible implications for The Way.”

“Wow so are you like the head monk or something?” Nasha gazed expectantly.

Preston let out another hearty bark of a laugh. “Definitely not. If anything I rank lowest. I was not always a monk. My past is filled with… well, not the most pleasant things.” With that, a pause hung over the conversation. “No. I am probably the least worthy of all.” He finished.

Nasha reached out to Preston and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Seems to me that despite having not the best past, you have goodness in you.”

Preston placed his hand over hers on his shoulder and sent her a grim smile. “If only you knew, you wouldn't be saying that. But thank you anyway.” With that, they each moved their hands and sat in a contemplative silence. Preston continued stir the gruel in circular motions with his spoon.

After a minute, Nasha nodded toward Preston. “I won’t push you tonight, but I would love to hear more about your faith in The Way. If it helps to take your mind off of sad things, I can tell you about why I am here. It is pretty exciting. It involves me getting recruited by a premier talent agency called Nexus to do modeling and acting for some big name companies.”

Preston was still processing his dark thoughts about his past when his hair rose on his neck and his fingers involuntarily shuddered. “What name did you say?!” The words came out as a shout.

Nasha jolted in surprise. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to say something to offend you.”

“No. No. WHAT WAS THE NAME YOU JUST USED?” Preston’s voice was now so quiet and forced that it somehow felt louder than his initial shout. Preston looked at her with an intensity uncommon on his visage. He prayed that he had heard incorrectly. He hoped against all hope that she had misspoke.

Looking disconcerted for the first time since Preston had met her, Nasha stumbled a response. “Do you mea.. mean… Ne… Nexus? The name Nexus?” At this point her lip was trembling.

Preston’s wild eyes looked around the chow hall. “Listen to me Nasha. Listen… to… me. You are in grave trouble.”

Nasha’s eyes still held concern but her mouth shifted to a shallow smirk. “Preston are you trying to toy with me? What’s going on?”

Preston wrung his hands. He couldn't believe that this was happening. Here in the middle of nowhere. He had to think of a way to convince her of the trouble. He knew he had to and that there was only one way. “Nasha. I wish I was toying with you. The danger you face is very real and worse than you could even imagine.”

Her smirk vanished. The concern in her eyes was now rimmed in pools of growing moisture. “Preston you are starting to scare me.”

“I am sorry but you should be scared. You remember my not so pleasant past?”

Seeming to have no ability to speak anymore, Nasha nodded.

He continued. “The reality is, it was a dark and evil past. I had a job called procurement. I would be given information about a person the company wanted to procure. Usually the info was a meeting place, audition, or residence. I would plan out an operation to procure the person using that information. My team and I would snatch the individual and deliver them to a holding and transfer facility. They would be held there until transferred to a training facility. Often as a reward for successful missions, we would be given first dibs on the the people we had procured… the new ‘merchandise’. They became chattel for the oldest business know to man and often it was me and my men teaching them that horrific reality.”

Preston paused to let his words sink in. He knew he had to say the last part. “Nasha, I worked for Nexus.” He hated himself for all that he had done and somehow naming Nexus cemented his involvement in the horrors he had perpetrated in their name.

The numb silence that permeated the space between Nasha and Preston shattered as she launched herself out of her chair, running her fingers through her hair. “But I have been recruited. I have a really nice job and a really nice life waiting for me.”

“Nasha, don’t you see? It is all a lie to get you into position to be procured. You are not being recruited or selected for something prestigious. You are being set up to be in a vulnerable position so a team like mine can grab you.”

Anger washed over Nasha’s face as Preston’s words ricocheted through her mind. “Get away!” She yelled at him. “You are sick! Coming up with something so perverted and trying to prey on me. I will not miss my chance and I won’t let you take advantage of me.” After a slight pause to catch her breath she resumed her diatribe. “I take back what I said. There is no goodness in you. You can skrotting go implode in vacuum for all I care.” The entire chow hall fell silent as she backed away from the table where Preston sat. His hands cupping his face as he shook his head.

“Nasha, look__”

“Don’t you skrotting say my name. Stay away from me.” With that last outburst, Nasha careened though the bulkhead and out of the chow hall. The rest of the people in the room went back to eating their food as if nothing strange had happened in the slightest.

Preston focused his eyes on the bulkhead where Nasha had disappeared. He knew she would hate him for what he said. He hadn’t counted on her not believing him. Instead of hating him for the actions of his past she now hated him for what she perceived to be manipulative lies meant to deprive her of her big chance.

Considering the unfortunate reaction Nasha had, he knew this would make protecting her from her horrifying fate that much harder. Sighing, Preston stood from his seat and trudged over to the exit. He needed to process how to prevent another horror from happening even if Nasha didn’t believe him. Though this would just be a drop in the bucket, maybe he could find a sliver of atonement.

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