#014 - "Darwin"
Chapter 2: The Catalyst
I enter through the door opposite the helm, and find myself in a long, narrow corridor with 5 doors at either side, and a door at the end of the hall. The hallway’s walls are adorned with the same dark wood paneling with silver metal trim as the War Room. The ceiling is arched, and painted slate grey with fine slated wood beams running down the center. It has overhead lights at regular intervals, and a thin layer of luminescent vapor hanging overhead. I wouldn’t say the hallway is dimly lit, but it does feel calmly lit. Kind of like the atmosphere you’d see in a high-end restaurant.
I should really ask Liz what this luminescent vapor is, and how it works later. Because I keep seeing it everywhere, and I still have no idea what it is.
The carpet is dark blue like the War Room, with bloodied footprints heading into the Captain’s Quarters to my left. Which lead out and into the third door on the left, then to the fifth door on the right. Before finally heading out of the fifth door, and halfway back down the hall before stopping midway.
I see. Liz said Anna was trying to bring me the Vitagel and Retrogen herself before she made her lie down. So she must have walked in, saw Anna hobbling towards the exit, and carried her back to the Clinic.
Despite Liz’s rough, almost unapproachable exterior; along with her overly blunt and somewhat crass dimeanor – She’s a surprisingly kindhearted person.
I will have to treat her to a drink if we ever get to a point where we can relax.
Well… First I’ll need money. To which I have absolutely none.
I first stop by the second door on the left – The Officer’s Armory. The lights turn on as soon as I enter, and I find a surprisingly barren armory.
Liz did say that this ship wasn’t finished yet, and she did steal it. So I shouldn’t be surprised that the armory hasn’t really been outfitted yet.
I really hope they stocked the food before she stole it though.
The floor and curved ceiling are all a grey-black metal, while the walls are painted a neutral light grey. There are several rows of metal shelves, cabinets, toolchests, and a relatively large workbench stretching from the door, to partway around the corner of the room. It has wall mounted adjustable lamps, pegboards with various tools hanging from them, and rolling chairs.
While seemingly well equipped, it feels kind of oppressive in here with all of the dark colors. Mix that with the curved ceiling, and it makes it feel more compact than it is.
Clyde’s Workshop back on Junis-12 was a disorganized mess. But the white color scheme, and windows along the wall showing the fake forest outside made it feel livable.
Given the size constraints, and the curved tapered shape of the hull – Yes, you can only do so much about how stuffy it is in here. But having everything be so darkly painted makes it feel like a prison cell. I can’t imagine sitting in here all day, disassembling guns, and somehow not go crazy.
I lean each of the guns I’m carrying on the gun rack vertically next to each other, making sure the safety is on for each one. Anna’s two Shredders are already here. Liz must have brought them since there are no bloody footprints in here.
There’s a cable extending out of a small cubbyhole in front of their spots on the gun rack, plugged into a slot on the side of their “receivers”. If I can even call them that when it comes to these guns. The cubbyholes the cables are extending out of are both glowing a steady green.
I see, so this must be the charger for each of their internal motors. Each place on the rack has a small covered hatch in front of it. I open the ones in front of the guns I just put up, and find the end of a cable. I pull it, and a long retractable cable comes out.
The end of this cable is strange. It’s shaped like an ‘8’ or an infinity symbol, but with all sharp lines. It’s also wider and fatter than a normal charging cable. But instead of being hollow and filled with individual pins – It’s just a chunk of solid gold metal. That or it’s just gold-plated.
No wonder Liz was so befuddled by my phone’s charging port.
I plug the cable into the receivers of both Shredders, and the cubby starts slowly strobing yellow. Yellow must mean it’s charging, and green must mean it’s at 100%. I also plug in the LMG, along with my pistol and its various mags I have cluttering my pockets.
I take this opportunity to empty my pockets of the various crap I’ve picked up. Leaving the scalpels and screwdriver on the workbench.
I leave the Armory and make my way over to my room, which is the first door to the right of the entrance. I enter from the right side of the room, the room illuminates, and I’m pleasantly surprised by how spacious it is.
The door has a navy blue wall immediately in front of it due to the closet door being around the corner. The room is wider than it is deep. The ceiling curves down with the shape of the hull, and has a large, bright electronic display covering most of it.
The display flawlessly creates the illusion of an atmospheric panoramic window. Like how B-Wing had that long path depicting a fake forest which changed perspective depending on where you were standing, this one does the same. But instead of being inside a dense forest, it shows a comforting display of a grassy field, with scattered trees, a dense treeline at the very back, and a gentle blue sky overhead with pure white clouds drifting past.
The ceiling bordering the display, and the long, soft carpet are both a comforting white color. While the rest of the walls are a calm navy blue color.
I’m glad Anna didn’t come in here - We would have never been able to get the bloodstains out.
There’s a queen-sized bed with navy blue sheets up against the wall, placed dead center of the display. Along with two white-silver dressers on either side, and various wooden shelves up above. My bag is already placed on top of the bed, so Liz must have dropped it off.
I really wish she would have stuck this stinky-ass bag literally anywhere else. But she went out of her way for me, so I can’t complain.
On the far end of the room is a white-silver desk with a chair tucked underneath it, and a small filing cabinet with a built-in safe to the right of it.
To the left of the desk is a door. I go through it to find I actually have my own private bathroom and shower. It has greenish grey porcelain tiles, off-white walls, a sink complete with a porcelain countertop, a toilet, and a walk in shower with sliding glass doors.
This room is staggeringly nicer than I expected. Given this is a military vessel, I expected to be living in a walk-in closet at best, and sleeping on a cot in the middle of the hallway at worst. It must be because this is the First Officer’s Quarters. There is absolutely no way each room is this spacious and well equipped. Well, given that there’s an Officer’s Head in the hallway implies that probably only the Captain’s Quarters and the First Officer’s Quarters has its own shower and toilet. Everybody else must need to use the shared bathroom and showers. This area of the ship must be specifically reserved for officers given its close proximity to the War Room and Helm. Everybody else on the rear of the ship probably has much worse digs.
I finally take the opportunity to use the bathroom and take a shower.
Liz in her infinite, but subtle hospitality has already went ahead and put shampoo and body wash in the shower for me. I will have to be sparing with it, as it’s undoubtedly from Liz’s personal luggage. She only prepared for one – She didn’t expect to have three people tagging along with her.
Oh well. I don’t mind smelling like flowery girl shampoo. Soap is soap.
Unfortunately there’s no proper toilet paper, despite there being a holder for it. But Liz at least gave me a box of facial towlettes to work with.
At first I didn’t understand why she wouldn’t bring toilet paper with her. That is, until I experienced the bidet.
I’ll put it this way: The futuristic bidet makes toilet paper almost functionally useless to women. It’s like choosing “The Works” at a car wash – It does everything.
Granted I am willing to bet Liz would have preferred to have toilet paper just in case. But considering the limited space she had in her luggage, having multi-use items like wets wipes is genuinely the smarter option. All I’m going to be using them for is wiping any kind of male “mishaps”.
I turn the shower on, and the water from the shower hits me like a warm embrace. It feels like it’s been days since I last had a moment to breathe, let alone relax. This is the first time I’ve felt any semblance of normalcy since I got here.
To be honest, I’m a wreck right now.
I’ve seen, done, and experienced things no human being ever should within the span of less than half a day. I went from working in a windshield repair shop to murdering someone in his sleep, and watching people get turned into human mulch pretty much overnight.
A heavy sigh exits from my lips.
I don’t know why, but finally having a moment to think just caused everything I’ve been burying up until now to burst forth.
Tears filled with all my pent up stress start streaming from eyes, as my emotions rapidly cascade into a deep, dark downward spiral. I lean up against the shower wall, and something inside me just snaps.
“AAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!! GODDAMMIT SON OF A BITCH!!!”
I scream out everything I’ve been holding in. I violently pound against the shower wall. I don’t even give a shit if somebody hears me.
I fall back against the wall, and silently slide down to the floor. I clutch both of my eyes as I just start bawling hysterically.
Images of that small blonde haired girl flashes through my mind once again.
I grit my teeth in sheer frustration, shouting through them.
“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?!?”
Air and spit hissing through my teeth.
Why?
Why?
Why me!?
How!?!
Who!?
What did I do to deserve this nightmare!?!?
People talk about being transported to another world like it’s fun.
This is not fun.
THIS IS A NIGHTMARE, AND I CAN’T WAKE UP!!!!!
How do I get back??
Can I even get back???
Am I trapped here????
I am going to be hunted to the ends of the universe.
I am so fucked.
Thought, after thought, after thought races through my mind at the speed of light.
I knew I was stressed.
But I’ve been pushing it down the entire time. Distancing myself from accepting that this is reality.
But finally being able to find a moment to relax made it all hit at once.
I kick my feet against the wall in a frenzy, as I wail out anguished throes of my bottomless hysteria.
It’s an overwhelming feeling of indescribable helplessness.
I don’t feel like I’m in control of my own life anymore, and I don’t even possess the mental faculties to correct course.
HOW CAN I WHEN I CAN’T EVEN REMEMBER WHO I AM!?!
So I’ve just been entrusting my life to unhinged lunatics.
One is a fucking deranged, mass-murdering terrorist.
One is most likely guilty of human experimentation that has resulted in countless, agonizing deaths.
And another is a genetic abomination who could probably rip somebody’s heart out with her bare hands.
I know I don’t really feel this way about them, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.
This is the state of my life right now.
I feel like a toddler just learning how to walk that is being chased down by a steamroller.
I bury my face in my knees, and sob until it hurts.
All the while as the water gently washes over me.
□■□
I don’t know how long I was in that shower having a full on mental breakdown, but it was a while.
When I stepped out of that shower, I felt like I stepped out a different man.
Darker… More empty.
Like all those screams were me forcefully adapting to my situation, regardless of how many pieces of me I had to cut off.
I wipe the fog from the mirror, resting my hands against the countertop, as I stare at the man I see before me.
His normally wavy brown hair is damp with water, and a fair bit too long - He needs a haircut.
His normally defined jawline is beginning to get covered in scraggly stubble - He needs to shave.
His eyes are sunken and dreary - He looks tired.
His once warm brown eyes look empty.
He looks like a husk.
I sigh outwardly as I avert my gaze.
I’m exhausted.
Just every part of me is basically limping at this point.
My mind, my body, my spirit.
I desperately want sleep.
But I need to talk to Anna first.
Despite what I thought in the shower, I do not hate the girls on this ship. Nor do I truly believe they are the monsters my brain was making them out to be.
Each of them is just broken in their own way. In that sense, we all share that in common.
“Ethnocentrism.” I mutter softly to myself.
It means judging another culture based on the standards of one’s own culture.
Not that I think Anna, Ionna, or Liz are normal by any stretch of the imagination. Nor do I believe this world is normal – Frankly it is fucked beyond belief.
But the sad fact is, they are better adapted to this environment than I am.
Not simply because they understand it more. But because they grew up in it. Me clinging to the cultural standards of Earth is causing me to fail to adapt to my new environment – And eventually, it's going to get me killed.
I myself have already killed 6 people so far. It's time I stop denying reality.
Liz is right, I need to assume command.
I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep putting my life in everybody else’s hands.
Things are only going to get worse from here on out. So I either have to adapt or die.
I don’t need to lose who I am, nor will I ever accept this world as my home. But I do need to start stepping up. Otherwise this piss stain of a world is going to swallow me whole.
“…Confidence and kindness, huh?”
Liz is smart. She gave me a task that would allow me to build up my confidence, and regain autonomy over my life in a safe manner. Taming two out of control therians is the perfect first step.
Is that why she told me to rest? Was my mental state that obvious? I know I didn’t try to hide how stressed I was. But not even I realized I was going to break down that hard. Is that why Liz left me alone back here? So I could let it all out?
Maybe I’m just thinking too hard about this. Liz probably didn’t think that far ahead. I’m just losing it.
I sigh, and shake my head, leaning into the sink.
I just need to focus on one task at a time right now. Right now that’s Anna.
I’m not sure if I’m happy, mad, sad, nervous, or excited to talk to her again after everything she did. Probably all of the above. I still have no idea what I’m going to say, or even how I’m going to broach the topic.
I look at the man in the mirror again and just groan.
Anna is crazy about me, I know that. She’s probably just as anxious about this conversation as I am.
She knows it’s coming, and so do I.
But when I picture Anna and I happily living in this room together, watching the fake clouds drift by from our fake panoramic window, cuddling on our brand new bed - I can’t help but feel excited. I’m sure she’ll feel excited too.
I don’t want to see her suffer anymore. She’s done a lifetime of that. I want to see her happy.
Okay, that’s it.
That’s what I want.
I want to forgive her, but I need to show myself the proper self-respect by being firm but kind with her.
I don’t want to hate her, but I also can’t just forgive her. If I’m going to be her master for the rest of my life, for the rest of her life – I need to act like one.
I just need to fake it until I make it.
“Confidence and Kindness.” I say to myself once more, reaffirming my resolve.
After I dry myself off, I throw my jeans and T-shirt back on, leaving the mercenary fatigues in my room, and head out the door towards the Clinic.
□■□
I pass through the door to the Clinic, which is situated on the lefthand-side of the room.
The atmosphere of the Clinic feels warm and comfortable, but also very sterile. Just like any hospital I suppose.
The walls are two-tone. With the bottom 45% painted a dark, leafy green. While the top 55% is painted a clean coat of white.
Much like my room, the curved ceiling also has a fake panoramic window. Only instead of displaying a clear, fake image like mine - It feels like foggy, opaque glass.
It gives the impression that we’re currently planetside in a hospital room at sunset.
Does it have a day and night cycle? If so, it should be morning, not evening. At least according to Junis-12’s timetable.
The floor is covered in smooth, glossy white tiles, with bloodied footprints scattered about the room.
The room is lined with rows of beds, each with its curtains pulled back and open. Countless medical cabinets with glass doors, and various machines on rollers line the walls. All the machines seem to be locked into the wall, I guess to prevent them from tipping over during flight.
There’s also a desk directly ahead of me, some sinks off to the side, along with an emergency shower and eyewash station.
On the lefthand-side of room, there’s a sturdy transparent door, along with small ingressed waiting area lined with fake black leather benches, and glass windows.
The windows nearest the transparent door show into a decontamination chamber with textured metal floors. It’s stocked with multiple hazmat suits hanging on hooks, with various scanners and nozzles protruding from the walls and ceiling.
The windows in the small waiting area furthest left show into a surgical room with way more impressive machinery, multiple operating tables, sinks and a shower, what looks to be a floor mounted elevator surrounded with metal railing and a rolling stretcher, a ladder with a sealed hatch, along with a door on the far side of the room with a radiation symbol on it.
One of the operating tables has obviously been used recently, as it’s the only one that is bent upwards. While the rest are all still flat. There’s also a pan next to it which probably has Anna’s broken teeth and shrapnel in it.
The surgery room seems to have its own airlock door leading outside. I see, so that’s how they keep outbreaks from spreading. This is a spacecraft after all. One soldier stricken with an unknown virus can infect the entire crew. So the room I’m standing in must be the general clinic, whereas that floor mounted elevator must lead to a sectioned off area for quarantining hazardous patients.
I didn’t even realize there was a second floor beneath us. It can’t be very tall, given the height of this ship’s fuselage. Anna might be able to walk comfortably down there, but I certainly couldn’t.
That quarantine section must only be used in dire circumstances. While shoving pandemic or radiation victims in the equivalent of a crawlspace does seem kind of cruel. From a logistics perspective, it does make sense.
This is a military spacecraft, not a space station. They only have so much space to work with, but they have the luxury of immediately flying back to base the moment something transmissible appears. Liz did say this thing is capable of outrunning anything they have, and we aren’t even going full-speed. So it could probably get home pretty damn fast if they had to.
With what they had to work with, they did a lot all things considered.
On the far righthand-side of the room, on the bed closet to the corner, I see a short pumpkin-haired Nekozoku sleeping.
As soon as I see the state Anna is in, my newfound faux confidence admittedly stumbles a bit.
Anna is wearing a blue-grey hospital gown, her face is bruised and swollen, and her mouth is stuffed full of gauze like a hamster. Her feet are completely wrapped in bandages, and her arms and legs have scattered adhesive bandages stuck to them.
I start walking over to her, and I see her pointed cat ears twitch. She drearily opens her eyes. As soon as she sees me, a slow, chubby smile spreads across her face.
“…Master…” She says, in a muffled, groggy voice.
I can feel her sense of relief radiating off of her, but she’s definitely still a bit out of it from the anesthetic.
She reaches into her mouth, and suggishly pulls the bloody gauze from her mouth – Setting it in a pan next to her bed.
I just stare down at her, as a mixture of emotions swirl within me.
Anna’s face turns to stone.
“…Do you hate me?...” She asks in a tired voice.
The emotions she’s feeling right now are complicated to say the least. Or rather I should say the lack thereof.
It feels like she’s trying to distance herself from her emotions.
At the forefront, there’s an absolute lack of remorse or regret.
But behind all of that, there’s… Fear.
Fear of losing me.
She’s bracing herself for the worst.
My nostrils flare, as I heave a heavy sigh through them.
“I should. I should hate you.” I say bluntly.
Her eyes subtly widen.
“After everything you’ve done, I absolutely should hate you. You used me. You took countless innocent lives. You singlehandedly started an interstellar war using me as the catalyst. You screwed Liz over, and you’ve fucked Ionna up the same way you’ve been fucked up.” I say, my heart turning to ice.
“I see…” She says, turning her head forward on her pillow, staring vacantly up at the ceiling.
Inside Anna, within that moment, I feel her give up on everything in life.
“But… Despite all of that… I just can’t bring myself to hate you.” I say, flopping myself down on the edge of her bed.
She turns back to me with a soft look of confusion on her face.
“I haven’t told you this yet… But I’ve begun to be able to feel your emotions. The same way you can feel mine.” I say with the subtly of an atom bomb, turning towards her.
For a brief instant, Anna’s expression changes to one of absolute joy, and then quickly shifts to wide-eyed abject horror as soon as she realizes what that means.
Her lips tighten, as a dark, cloudy expression washes over her face. She stares back up at the ceiling, unable to make eye contact with me.
“…For how long?” She asks in a quiet, timid voice.
“I want to say that it really started to become clear after we left your penthouse.” I answer solemnly.
Her mouth crinkles up. Her facade of nihilistic disinterest is crumbling inside her. I can feel sorrow, fear, embarrassment, and regret begin to overtake her.
She knows what me having the ability to feel her emotions means.
It means that I not only witnessed her psychotic break… But I experienced her headspace firsthand.
Her eyes begin to moisten as her mouth begins to gently quiver. A thin stream of tears overflow from the corner of her eyes, and run down the sides of her bruised and swollen cheeks.
Her front of disinterest has fallen. She can no longer hide her true feelings from me. Nor can she hide it from herself.
“P-please don’t abandon me…” she whimpers, her lips twitching and curling.
I look off into the distance, and in a stern but compassionate tone, I say:
“I have no intention of abandoning you Anna.”
She lets out a shakey sigh of relief, as though she were holding her breath.
“But…”
“But?...”
I turn towards her. “That doesn’t mean I forgive you.”
She clamps her eyes shut to hold back her flood of tears, and gives me a pained but relieved smile. Nodding her head vehemently.
In that moment, I could feel the flame inside Anna’s heart reignite itself. It’s weak, but finding out that there’s a chance to fix things with me has given her a newfound will to live.
Anna is gasping cracked breaths of air, desperately attempting to stop herself from breaking down into tears of relieved joy.
“T-thank you… Thank you so much…” She says, almost coughing the words out.
I give a small nod, “Just as I have become an irreplaceable part of your life, so too have you in mine. I want to fix this.”
“Likewise Master. W-with every fiber of my being, I want to stand at your side forever.” She says with a tone of nervous, overwhelming happiness.
She’s scared she’s going to fuck this up the same way I am.
We both have our roles to play in this strange relationship we have. Not even as master and slave, but as beings who are symbiotically paired. In a messed up kind of way, she legitimately feels like my other half. Or maybe an extension of myself almost. I genuinely don’t think the words necessary to describe this sensation even exist. She and I just *know* certain things about each other without having to say anything.
That doesn’t mean we can read each other’s mind – We can’t. It’s more like instinct. So like any relationship, we still need to talk things out. Fortunately it’s obvious we both want to meet each other halfway to try and fix this.
She gently grasps my left hand with her fingers. She has very little strength right now. She is very clearly still recovering, but powering through her physical exhaustion for my sake.
How do I even start this though? How do you even broach the topic of: “Why did you murder all of your friends and family?”
My lips purse with nervousness, as Anna wipes her eyes. Trying to pull herself together.
“So, uh, how’s your mouth?” I ask, throwing something out there.
She snickers, “Heh – Not the first time I had my teeth knocked out.”
Those mercenary bastards… What did she have to endure during her time there? I can only imagine the Hell she had to live through on that station. I don’t blame her for breaking under the weight of it all. She watched her sisters get picked off one by one until she was the last one left. Then she was forced to carry on in that life by herself. With no light at the end of the tunnel to give her hope that things were ever going to get better.
I understand why she’s so broken inside. Anyone would be in her circumstances. But… I can’t allow myself to falter out of sympathy. If I am to be her master from now on, and be responsible for her from this day forward – I need to hold her responsible for her actions. I need to address and rectify her behavior.
Not just for my sake, or Liz’s sake, or Ionna’s – But for Anna’s sake as well. She’ll never get better mentally if I don’t correct her.
To do that, I first need to understand just how twisted she is inside.
Confidence and Kindness Max.
“This wasn’t even the worst time it happened – Try getting your teeth knocked out by somebody with metal hands.” Anna says with a wry, akward chuckle. “Fortunately Ionna’s CS made her blows significantly weaker than they otherwise could’ve been. Now the feet on the otherhand... Just shifting my body feels like I’m stepping on a mountain of barbed wire.”
I can imagine.
I can recall one of my scattered memories from when I was younger. I came home in the middle of the night, everything was dark. I came into my room, and was starting to take my shoes off. I was exhausted for whatever reason.
I had been organizing my room earlier that day. I needed a place to put all the small, miscellaneous crap I was sorting through before putting them into their new assigned areas. So I just made small separated piles on the floor throughout my room. So one pile for electronic related stuff, one for writing utensils, one for office supplies, etc.
Well… I took my shoes off… And stumbled onto the office supply pile.
Let me tell you – The moment you step on a box of 100+ thumbtacks with your bare feet is the moment new swear words are invented.
To make matters worse – In my desperation to find something to lean on in the dark, I hopped over to my desk. I ended up leaning all of my weight into the box of my brand new figure which cost $200+ (approx. ¥31,000) and caved it in.
Fortunately the figure wasn’t in it at the time at least.
The fact that Anna could not just walk in that state, but sprint is absolutely mind-blowing to me. Anna might not be as strong as Ionna, but she fights like a demon possessed.
“Didn’t Liz give you any painkillers? It might help with-“
“No drugs.” Anna objects, glaring poignantly at me.
Anna really doesn’t like drugs.
“Despite my protests, Liz already forced me to take the Neuralax when she took my teeth out. I’m not taking anymore.”
She had to *force* you to take anesthetics when she was removing your teeth??? As in, you wanted to do it cold turkey!?!?
“Anna, the medicine can help you feel better.” I say with genuine concern.
“Call it medicine, call it anesthetics – It doesn’t matter. Drugs are drugs.” She stubbornly declares.
Anna REALLY doesn’t like drugs.
I could order her to take it, but decide to end this line of conversation. She’s safe, and her condition is stable – That’s all that matters right now. But if it becomes clear that she’s suffering unnecessarily, I will make an executive decision.
“So… Ionna…” I start to say, getting to the heart of the matter.
Anna fidgets nervously.
“…You knew she was going to react like that – Why bring her?”
Anna stays silent – She averts her eyes as her mouth curls with guilt.
“You could have died.”
Silence.
“You once said you feel personally responsible for her – Why?”
Anna begins to open her mouth, then tightens her lips.
I can feel a flood of thoughts and feelings race through Anna like a violent torrent of uncertainty and guilt.
After a brief moment of silence which felt like an eternity, she finally speaks.
In a quiet, timid voice, she says:
“I…I’m her mother…”
At this exact moment, I’m pretty sure you could hear a pin drop.
I just look at Anna in a blank confusion – Mouth agape.
“…Huh?”
Anna clutches her gown, shame overcoming her.
“I was the one who convinced Hellman to cultivate her. I also named Ionna after myself.”
Anna’s goal was to bankrupt and ruin Hellman. Ionna was, to quote Anna: “Extraordinarily expensive to cultivate.”
Ahh.
Yet another thing she has kept from me.
I look at Anna, my eyes wide – Piercing. Projecting the severity of her confession.
“…I thought you had no idea how strong Ionna was?”
“I didn’t know!!” She pleads defensively, “I had no part in all the modifications she received! I only suggested cultivating Kitsune because they are expensive! All Hellman told me was they spared no expense!! When it comes to Kitsune slaves, that could mean anything! I didn’t think it meant they gave her military-spec modifications!!”
“What the Hell do you mean you named her after yourself? While I admit Ionna and Anna are similar, they are not the same.”
Anna leans back into her pillow, a strange fusion of nostalgia and sadness swirling inside her.
“In my past life… Or memories I’ve been implanted with rather – I was a Kitsune musician named Ionna. I lived for 132 years as Ionna, making it my longest continuous string of memories. I was owned by a wealthy magnate who treated me well, and I played piano and other instruments for him at his leisure.”
Wait… 132 years? How long do people in this world live for?? How ancient are you Anna???
A mournful lament washes over Anna.
“My life has been very different from the Ionna in my memories… I never experienced the sense of joy or fulfillment Ionna felt throughout her life… Being able to serve a master who cherished her. Appreciated her for everything she did for him. Loved her unconditionally…”
Anna makes a pained smile, her voice cracking, as a small trickle of tears swell from her eyes.
“Unlike regular memories, implanted memories cannot be forgotten. Seeing the contrast between the state of my own life, and the joyous memories the original Ionna experienced… It was like torture. I tried to distance myself from them. I told myself they were all just lies – Fabrications. Whatever I could do to convince myself they weren’t real. Having a lifetime of happiness shoved in your face when your own life is completely devoid of hope is actually worse than just having bad memories... It’s agonizing. It prevents you from ever accepting that: ‘This is just the way things are.’”
Anna closes her eyes, breathing deeply – Regaining her composure.
“Since I was the one who came up with the idea to cultivate Kitsune – He let me name the first one. I guess that… In my inescapable sentimentality… Me naming Ionna after the Ionna before me was my small, desperate attempt at giving her the best life I could.”
“Are… Are you telling me there are other Kitsune out there like Ionna?...”
Anna shamefully nods her head in silence.
“…How many?”
“I… I don’t know. Hellman had them all sent to other bases. I only met one of Ionna’s batch sisters briefly – ‘Pearl’.”
“…Does Ionna know about any of this?”
Anna shakes her head.
I hunch over, clutching my head in my hands.
Anna – You are a terrible mother.
“We absolutely cannot tell Ionna about this – EVER. If she learns the whole reason she’s even alive is so you could enact your revenge against Hellman, which resulted in the deaths of all of her sisters – She’ll eject herself out of the airlock.”
“Mhm.” Anna nods quietly.
She’s beating herself up over it inside, I can feel it.
“Look… Uh… Just because you came up with the idea to cultivate her doesn’t mean that you’re her mother. If anything-“
“No.” Anna says poignantly. “It does.”
Anna is looking at me with a sad certainty in her gaze.
“Obviously… Therians can’t actually bear children. We are created in a lab, a cultivation farm – Not born. So none of us actually have a biological mother or father. But despite that… We do have our own concept of parental figures…”
“How… How so?”
“Normally… If a therian suggests the cultivation of another therian… Whether it be to help around the house, or to fulfill a specific role that particular therian can’t, that therian is accepting the responsibility of becoming that new therian’s mother or father.”
“…And what does that entail? Is it like a manager role?”
“No. A therian’s parental figure’s duty is simply to teach the new therian the way of things. What is expected of them, how to act, what to do and how to do it, to look out for the younger therian, and to accept responsibility when the younger therian makes a mistake.”
“So… Like a normal human parent?”
Anna gives a small shrug.
“I suppose, but in a looser sense. On Junis-12, we did things differently. For the vast majority of therians, myself included, we were ordered in bulk. I was but one of the 262 first-generation therians there. Instead we adopted a method of choosing ‘Block Mothers’ amongst ourselves. Each district we were assigned to had a block mother. Some blocks elected them by first to be cultivated, some were elected by popular vote. They served as our emotional support matriarch, our calm in the storm…”
“…And who was your block mother?” I ask hesitantly.
Anna’s face crinkles.
“…Sasha…” She murmurs softly.
Sasha was the Bovine type therian amongst Anna’s figures. The one that, to quote Anna: “Everybody loved.”
Sasha was also the one who… Killed herself on the railroad tracks.
Anna had recalled having to scoop her up into buckets, while having no idea why Sasha would do such a thing.
Being forced to scoop your own mother’s gruesome remains into buckets like its nothing… Hellman deserved everything he got.
“…And who was Ionna’s block mother?”
“Officially… She didn’t have one. She lived separately from the rest of the therians. Nobody was allowed to touch her. I attempted to look out for her from afar, but I could never get too close. It was… Better that way…” Anna mutters in a somber tone.
“Ionna always had issues with being fully compliant, or behaving in the manner expected of her. No doubt attributed to her being a Kitsune type therian. While known for potentially being the most loyal and capable of the therian types, they are also very fickle and can be extremely unpredictable. Hellman struggled with her, and I constantly covered for her in secret. Both for my own sake, and for hers. I suggested that, in order to train her to be more compliant, he should have her assist in the Therianthrope District from time to time. Have her learn from the more experienced therians in the district. It let her get the chance to go out, interact, and socialize with other therians like her. It also kept her away from Hellman. There she was pseudo adopted by Rishka...”
Rishka – The friendly dark-skinned Bovine we met in Kei’s old district. The one who very clearly cared for Anna.
…The one that Anna murdered.
I heave a heavy sigh.
This whole situation is fucked beyond belief.
“Well… All those Kitsune Hellman cultivated are now property of the DRAC government, right?”
“…Because of Hellman’s debts – Most likely. That or Hellman’s individual creditors.”
Meaning there’s nothing we can do for them.
“What’s going to happen to the HMC now?”
“Unless Hellman’s three daughters: Ella, Lina, and Ada, wish to take on their father’s debt – Which they won’t – The remaining assets are going to be liquidated. Those Kitsune, along with any military assets of value are most likely going to be claimed by the DRAC government to reimburse his government funding and contracts, along with the costs of the cleanup operations. Then, anything of lesser value is going to be given to Hellman’s creditors, and undoubtedly auctioned off.”
“What’s going to happen to them after the government claims them?”
“Assuming they are modified like Ionna was – They’ll undoubtedly be pressed into military service.”
Anna – You are the WORST mother.
“…And Berrick?”
Anna makes an uncertain face.
“…Hans Hellman was formerly a Colonel in the Allied Colonial Navy, or ACN. He was renowned for his military accomplishments, which is why investors and creditors felt so safe lending him tremendous sums of money. He was undoubtedly an extremely intelligent and pragmatic strategist. But he was also vain and prideful, which is what eventually led to his downfall. He never would have considered a slave would bring about his ruin.” Anna says with a small, vindictive smirk.
She looks at me with a stern expression.
“…Berrick however, is different.”
My eyes narrow.
“Different how?”
“While Hellman served as the HMC’s primary strategist, Berrick would do the dirty work. Daylin Berrick is a peculiar, and very dangerous man. He seems aloof, but his every action is deliberate. He would get to know his troops, gaining their loyalty. He’s cynical, and slow to trust anyone. He’s greedy, but knows when to cut his losses. While Hellman was a borderline genius, Berrick is smart in a certain, shady kind of way.”
“He’s street smart.”
Anna visibly ponders, “Yes, I would say that’s accurate. He’s great at making connections, and getting by on limited resources. His hunches are inexplicably spot on, and he always leaves his options open. That’s probably why he opted to allow Ella, Lina, and Ada to be the inheritors of the HMC. Rather than accepting stakes in the HMC as payment, or an electronic currency like the dracan, he demanded his take be paid solely in tangible precious metals.”
“So… Are you telling me that-“
“Yes.” She says completely deadpan, “Berrick is totally free of any legal liability.”
Ahh… This isn’t over.
“He will undoubtedly be coming for us, and that goes from Rubrum, Beryl, and Fey too. Not out of personal revenge. Frankly he probably found Hellman’s situation rather amusing. But because we’re worth a fortune.”
“Well at least he’s alone.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. While any mercenaries with debt to the HMC will have that debt transferred to Hellman’s creditors – Namely the DRAC government. Anybody without debt is free to do as they please, assuming they aren’t detained. Knowing Berrick, he’s already identified the mercs without debt prior to its destruction, and gained their loyalty. If I had to guess, he’s going to take those particular mercenaries and form a new organization. While equipment wise he might be limited. In terms of personnel, it won’t take him long to assemble a new, independent paramilitary group.”
I anxiously run my hand through my hair, and look down to see a few strands stuck to my fingers. I think all the stress is making my hair fall out. That or I’m just getting to that age. Maybe this world has a cure for that. If they can fit somebody with advanced cybernetics, and live for 132 years like its normal, then surely they have a cure for stress shedding. I’ll have to ask Liz later.
In any case, Berrick seems like the worst possible kind of enemy for me.
I’m completely ignorant on the ways of this world. Meanwhile he’s street smart, resourceful, and clever. He sounds like the perfect kind of guy to find somebody who doesn’t want to be found. Not to mention his slaves. One of which is literally called “The Huntress”, another is a dragon-woman who breathes fire, and I don’t know about the last one. He definitely has a lot more I don’t know about, assuming they survived the incident.
Governments move slowly. So out of everyone who’s going to be coming for us, he’ll probably be the first. The DRAC will definitely call him in for questioning. But after that, he just needs to contact the people in his little black book, put a crew together, and start with the pursuit. Berrick knows Anna. Rubrum, while not knowing my face, definitely knows my scent. I will need to stick to Ionna like glue. Because I have no way other way of defending myself against someone like her. I’ve seen how fast Ionna can move. If she is any indication, then Rubrum could be on top of me before I even know what’s going on.
After I settle things with Anna, and get some sleep, I definitely need to get to know Ionna better. Apart from some scant conversations, and me consoling her while in a belligerent state – I honestly barely know her.
Liz says she likes me, at least on a subconscious level. But if I’m going to be her master from now on, we should definitely try and become more closely acquainted.
Well… I guess it’s finally time to address the elephant in the room.
I turn to Anna, and look at her with unwavering seriousness.
“…About the therians…”
Instantly I can feel her heart freeze over.
“…These were the options that I had Master. I did what I had to do.” She says with firm conviction.
At this point, I know Anna. I know how she operates. What she just said is a half-truth.
“Anna – Your master has the ability to override a slave’s registered owner. I could have gotten at least some of them out.”
Anna smirks “And then what? We march into the armory with a gaggle of women in tow, walk out with an entire arsenal worth of weapons? That wouldn’t raise any alarms.” She answers somewhat snidely.
I’m taken a bit aback by Anna’s response. Anna, suddenly realizing how disrespectful she just sounded gives me a troubled look.
“I’m sorry, that was rude of me Master.”
“…It’s alright.” I say, brushing off her slightly derisive tone.
Anna has been nothing if not respectful and submissive towards me. Hearing her respond to me with a subtly sardonic tone is honestly a little bit jarring.
It… It feels like she’s dismissing my line of questioning and personal concerns about the matter as something silly, insignificant, and somewhat childish.
“Anna - When you saw the bodies of your therian sisters floating out in space… You felt nothing.” I say solemnly.
Anna looks at me dead-eyed and unflinching.
“Do you remember what I said when I talked about how I felt when it came to the penthouse I was given?”
“N…No?”
“I roughly said: ‘None of this matters, all of it is empty. That suite wasn’t mine. It wasn’t built specifically for me because I mattered. It was built for customers. I’ve watched the people I've loved get replaced over and over again. And had that trend continued, I too would have been replaced. And that suite would have belonged to some other therian.’”
She closes her eyes, and sighs.
“Master – Do you know how many first-generation therianthropes were left by the time you arrived?”
“H-how many?...”
Anna locks eyes with mine, “Twelve – Just. Twelve.”
Sweet mother of Christ.
That base was started, what? Twelve years ago!? If therians can live upwards to 130, how the fuck do you go from 262 people down to 12 in twelve years!?!? That’s like a 96% mortality rate!!!!
“W-what are you saying??” I ask, hoping desperately she isn’t implying what I think she’s implying.
Anna stares vacantly up towards the ceiling, “I’m saying that my sisters are long dead – Those therians were simply their replacements.”
She’s… She’s fucking deranged!!!
N-N-NO!!! I REFUSE TO BELIEVE SHE’S THIS FUCKING BROKEN!!!
When she said goodbye to Rishka for the last time, that was genuine remorse in her voice. She knew what she was about to do. She knew the lives she was about to take.
When she said sorry to Rishka before parting with her, she wasn’t apologizing for the flowers… She was apologizing for betraying her.
Ahh…
I get it now…
“You must first believe your own lies to sell them…” I mutter softly to myself.
Anna's gaze immediately shifts to me with a fierce glare. I’ve never seen her act this assertively to me before. While she doesn’t say anything, I can almost hear her demanding me to: “SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP.”
Seems like I hit my mark…
She’s deluding herself to keep herself from falling apart.
Even though she’s being rude, I can’t help but give a small, genuine smile.
…Anna can be saved.
“As I said before – Getting you out alive was my top priority. I was prepared to die there that night before I met you. These were the options I had ready prior to us meeting. We had a time limit. There was nothing that could have been done to save them. Even if we had snuck around and attempted to claim every single therian as your slave, eventually somebody would have taken notice. This was the most humane thing I could have done.”
“Anna… Do you know what happens when you get ejected into space? Your blood cold-boils, your lungs rupture, and-“
“I KNOW.” She booms, as if begging me to stop.
She didn’t yell, but she definitely raised her voice. Yes… Anna is trying to distance herself from thinking about it. Even if that means playing the villain.
Emotionally, she’s wavering from her ice-cold plateau.
“I-I am well aware they must have suffered before they died… I know that.” She says, trailing off. “But I meant what I said to Ionna – Death was a preferable alternative to being sold second-hand.” She says, averting her gaze.
“And how is dying better than having a second chance at finding a better master?”
“…Didn’t you ever wonder why Ionna was terrified of being sent to the Export Box?” asks Anna in a dry tone.
Ionna was crying and pleading when she was being dragged off to be sold second-hand. I thought that having the therians sold off would be like saving them. But apparently being a second-hand therian is worse than a death sentence.
“Why is being sold second-hand so bad?”
“Cultivating a brand-new therian is fairly reasonable in this day and age. At least a regular one like me. Second-hand therians are even cheaper, and tend to attract a clientele who are only interested in ‘disposable’ slaves. Ionna is a special case, so she almost certainly wouldn’t have ended up in a bargain bin. In truth she probably would have been very expensive, even being second-hand. But the fear we feel towards being sold off second-hand is real, and for good reason.”
I can only imagine what a “disposable” slave has to suffer.
Hard-labor, jobs with little to no concern for their safety, being subjected to their master’s sick fetishes, inhumane experiments – The list goes on and on.
The world has some sick, twisted, evil motherfuckers in it. People who behave in such a way that delves beyond the realm of logic. They simply don’t care for others, or enjoy making others suffer. Having a seemingly endless supply of disposable slaves for them to buy up and toss out would surely cultivate an abhorrent clientele.
The world is sick.
This one especially.
“With the sudden influx of thousands of therians on the second-hand market, their value would have tanked. Which would have attracted an even worse clientele. This… Was the most I could do for them…” Anna says, her voice lightly trembling.
I give a soft smile.
Anna is hurting just like Ionna.
I’m certain of it now.
While Anna might withhold information, not once have I ever considered Anna a liar. I believe her when she said she has never told me anything flagrantly untrue. Anna is incredibly intelligent and thorough. She wouldn’t risk our once in a lifetime bond over something so shortsighted.
But right now she’s not lying to me – She’s lying to herself.
Right now, Anna is trying to harden her heart. Telling herself that those therians were nothing but replacements, so they didn’t matter.
She had planned to be the only one to die tonight. She hadn’t mentally prepared herself to massacre everybody on that station – The innocent therians included. While she very much convinced those therians to build that artificial faultline, she hadn’t resolved herself to use it tonight.
That is why Anna led us to all those places that held painful memories of her sisters. She was substituting her lack of mental readiness with narrow-minded rage. Just like I accidentally taught her - She forced herself to believe her own lies.
I truly do believe, or at least believe that SHE believes, that killing all of those therians was the most humane thing she could have done.
While she absolutely loathed Hellman, and for good reason, I know she didn’t see the other therians as disposable replacements like she’s trying to claim.
Now that I think about it, had we just escaped off the station without using the Reclamation War stockpile plan, every mercenary with debt to the HMC would have been turned into slaves just like Hellman. Which is debatably a fate worse than death.
We probably could have done it to be honest, given the time it took us to get out. Anna had planned to kill Liz, and attempt to destroy the Ford if her CS allowed it. Which likely would have taken just as much time. So even with the train still in service, odds are they wouldn’t have been able to respond in time.
Despite this – Anna chose the bomb plan. Knowing the mercenaries wouldn’t suffer as much as they otherwise could have.
She genuinely believes that this was an act of mercy.
And judging from the fact that Ionna stopped fighting me as soon as Anna brought up the fact that death was preferable to being sold second-hand implies that Ionna probably believes that as well. She just wasn’t happy about it.
Anna said that after Lior’s death, she realized that the entire organization needed to be burned to the ground. She needed to put an end to that madness once and for all.
Had her original plan worked, she would have gotten her revenge on Hellman, and MAYBE some of the therians would have gone on to be bought by new, kinder masters. But most likely the majority would have gone on to suffer even worse than before.
Cleaning house was the only reliable method she had to ensure that ALL the therians wouldn’t go on to suffer endlessly, rather than a lucky select few.
No matter how painful it was for her to do, she did what she had to to ensure the best possible outcome with the limited resources she had.
She’s not ready to face the reality of what she has done. She might never be. She might not even fully realize how much she’s hurting inside right now. But I can at least find comfort in knowing that Anna still has a heart underneath all that ice.
While Anna is most definitely damaged, and maybe even broken inside – Anna is still Anna. When it comes down to it, she’s incredibly loyal, and she truly does care about the people closest to her.
I think back to that figure Lior made of Anna. I remember thinking that the emotions the figure conveyed didn’t match the Anna I knew at all. The figure showed a joyful, kind, playful girl with pumpkin colored hair, and pointy cat ears.
I had thought that the Anna Lior knew was dead and gone. Killed by a lifetime of trauma and loss.
But I realize now that that girl is still alive and well – She’s just buried underneath it all.
When Anna is ready to face her guilt, I will be there for her.
But for now, I’m satisfied with this.
If convincing herself that she’s the villian is keeping her from crumbling into pieces – I’m willing to wait for her.
I turn to Anna, putting my thigh up on the bed, and reach out and gently place my hand on her head.
I lightly stroke Anna’s head, as she gives me a somewhat befuddled expression.
“I forgive you Anna.” I say in a calm, comforting tone.
“…H-huh?” She sounds, her eyes blinking at me in confusion. “B-but what I did-!” She stammers before I put my fingers to her lips, cutting her off.
I look at her with understanding eyes.
“Anna… I can live with us killing those mercenaries. Considering what they put you and your sisters through, I understand why you’d hold such vehement hatred for them. They were pieces of shit, and most of them deserved to die. I can even live with starting an interstellar war between Libertalia and the DRAC. Liz told me that was going to happen regardless, and I agree. They were actively looking for a reason to start a war. Sooner or later, they were going to find one. Any way you cut it, we were going to walk out of that place as the galaxy’s most wanted.”
Anna remains silent, looking at me with a troubled gaze of uncertainty. I think a part of her wants me to get mad at her, to punish her in anger. But I’m not going to. While I’ll be there for her when she’s ready to accept the guilt that she feels, I can’t cleanse her of her sins by punishing her. That’s not healthy, and she won’t grow as a person as a result of that.
“Anna - While yes, you absolutely need to try and fix your relationship with Liz and Ionna, and attempt to make amends. But when it comes to us, I forgive you. At the end of the day, you kept your promise to do everything in your power to make sure we both made it out alive. You came back to me just like you promised. So I'm promising you that I’ll never abandon you.” I declare with firm resolution and a warm smile.
Anna’s hands tremble, clutching her medical gown while her lips curl.
“What I did was unforgivable…” She softly murmurs.
“Anna… I came into this room WANTING to forgive you. Frankly I was nervous as Hell to have this conversation, and I’m willing to bet you were too – Am I right?”
Anna silently nods.
“I see no reason to hold this over your head like the Sword of Damocles. Remember what you said? You just ended one chapter of your life, and now the two of us are starting a new one together.”
I gently clasp Anna’s hand, as she weakly squeezes back.
“-So walk this road with me.”
Tears swell from the corners of Anna’s eyes.
“A-are you really sure you want someone like me by your side?” She asks in a scared, trembling voice.
“Positive.” I grin.
Her voice cracks a whimper as she weakly lifts herself up, and wraps her arms around my waist.
She has absolutely no strength right now, but if she did, I’m willing to bet she’d be hanging on for dear life.
I chuckle as I pet her head reassuringly.
□■□
After awhile of our adorable cuddle session, I finally decide it’s time.
“Hey Anna.” I say abruptly.
Anna looks up at me, “Yes Master?”
“I have something to show you that you’re really going to like.” I say with a big toothy grin.
Anna tilts her head in confusion.
Without warning, I reach down and pick her up like a princess in my arms.
“Ah!” she squeals in surprise.
Anna is tiny in my arms, but because of her mildly condensed muscles, she is slightly heavier than she looks. That said, I wouldn’t call her heavy by any means. Not even close to Ionna’s weight. Who, despite having a slender toned physique, felt like there was an obese American trucker sitting in my lap.
Anna’s face blushes red, “M-Master, my butt is hanging out!!”
I look down, and sure enough, the back of her medical gown is wide open. Her two plump white cakes are just out there, hanging in the breeze. Her cat tail is tucked firmly between her legs, shyly covering herself up.
“We aren’t going far, let’s go.”
“Ahh-!“ She yelps, but holds back her objections.
