My stomach didn't feel good at all. An infectee was on this ship, probably heavily influencing Captain Vertiga for three years already. For all I had learned about the Wild, their psychic powers and their manipulative ways could have affected the entire crew. It was difficult to remain calm, even with him being close to me. Maybe exactly because of that. On the one hand, I felt safe, the way he held me, his warmth and his scent. On the other hand, maybe this was one of their ways to manipulate people into thinking they are not evil. A literal incubus, a male seducer. "Give me some space, please," I quietly begged and afted stroking my cheek with his gloved hand, he backed off, moving over to the window, looking out to Omega-3.
"This entire chaos began three years ago, when I was under the impression the Core was a good choice to join for revenge against the Nomads. They never aimed for eliminating the Nomads entirely but instead use them as researchable, regrowable resource for their APM technology. The reason why the Core is technologically on par with the Sirian elite is purely because of their stuff being based on alien technologies. From APM energy cells and computing chips to the entire AP shipline and their shields and guns. This entire ship is a nomad graveyard," he began to explain. I looked at my shaking hands, every now and then wiping the tear-based moisture off my cheeks, still sniffling every now and then from the shock I felt. The gun lay beside me, and I was still considering to shoot him with it. I didn't want to get infected.
"So after a few months of having bought myself into the Core and funding the Apahanta's chassis' restoration at Alabama, I had to realize I had made a billion credits heavy misinvestment. Even worse, instead of fighting Nomads, Nodtviet forced the Apahanta to partake in raids against Gammu, Crete and the Order. Not what I signed up for. Things crossed the line when Core went to war against the Zoners, over a pack of smokes. A bunch of my inferiors were affiliated to the Zoners before joining Core. Commander Aguilar, for example, was born on Canaria. So we gathered some trustworthy people, set up a plan and left. During that time I met Maren, who was extremely supportive and in the end fell in love with me. Back then she was not infected yet, but about to die due to her long-time abuse of Cardamine. Her body was unable to adjust to the amounts she had used. She told me about it way later. The only way for her to survive was to become infected. Back then she was hanging out with a guy who she later found out was infected. She worked for him a few times, then he turned her into a Wild. An Agent of das Wilde, to be precise."
The way he said these things indicated he was telling this story a few times already. It was done with a certain routine in his voice. Eventually he sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the window while looking over to me. I was listening. "We fled into the Omegas after Livadia repaired the Apahanta from the desertion. Time after time I realized there were some weird things happening. Maren was gone every now and then, never explaining where she went. It was during a meeting with a man who believed she was infected when I actually found out myself that she was. We sent the man away, and I was heavily disgusted to find out that the woman who claimed to love me was a Wild. I tried to hide it, though, since I did love her. I told her I was okay with it, as long as she was not my enemy and would not put an incubus inside me or my friends or my crew. And basically like that, the NAP was slowly establishing. Maren spent more and more time with me, and she convinced me to stop waging war against the Nomads. Otherwise she couldn't stay with me. She explained to me that the humans started this war, and that it was an unlucky coincidence that the Nomads killed my parents. We came to the agreement that she would ensure K'Hara and Wild would ignore me, the Apahanta and my crew, and in return, I, the Apahanta and my crew would not interfere with anything K'Hara and Wild do. As you know from the news."
I heard regret in his voice. "So whenever they went on a hunt on humans, either in the Omicrons or in house space, I could do nothing but watch. In the first two years, it was horrible, and there instances where I had risked a catastrophe to prevent another person from getting abused by the Commune, the Nomad Worshippers. Maren was mad at me, to say the least, but she somehow managed to help us maintain the status quo. But she made me realize how powerful and how dependant we are on that NAP. So yes, she acts as a shield for us, but to me, that is only secondary. She is the person I love, and despite all the troubles I went through because of her, we still love each other. And I do believe I have a little bit of influence on her, to prevent her from doing more harm as a Wild than she would be able to inflict on mankind if I wasn't with her."
There was silence after that. I believe he expected me to say something, as he looked over to me every now and then. But I remained silent, for more than a minute. His story made, in a way, sense, and I was able to take it from him. I thought about it for quite a while. There was one big thing that nagged on me, however. It was stupid, I know that myself, dear diary, but it hurt. It was the way he talked about her. That he loved her, despite what she was. That he repeatedly said it. He loved her. And there I sat, around three months in the pregnancy. He didn't know about it. He didn't know about me being an agent of the BIS either. On one hand, he had forvigen Miss von Westefeld for being a god damn infectee. A traitor to the human race. On the other hand, I knew he hated children. And despite him having kissed me and having had sex with me, I had the feeling he wouldn't want me to keep the child. And I was trapped on this ship...
And then I realized it. I was trapped on this ship. Now that I knew his story, i was trapped. The only way out was to flee, and how far would I make it. Maybe it was true what he said, I could have shot him and hurried to the first best escape pod. Just to get evaporated by the Apahanta's deadly Dual Gatling Lasers. And even if I managed to escape, I had to deal with the fact I had the child of a possible nomad-supporter inside me. My child would grow up without their father. And then I thought about Bretonia. Chances were my child would have a horrible living in Bretonia as refugee of the war. One of billions. I didn't know what to do. I looked at my hands and had no idea what to do. I was trapped. I felt frustrated. I even considered just taking the gun to end it, just for a single second. To give up, or give in.
But then, almost as if he knew exactly what conflict was ripping me apart in my mind, he began to talk again, his charming voice felt soothing. Like a lighthouse guiding to the coast. "If they were our enemy, we would be dead already. I learned how powerful they are. That we can't kill them. We can't kill multi-dimensional beings. A frustrating thought. But, similar to my lack of a believe for gods and religions, I started to look at it from the perspective of an optimistic nihilist. There is nothing we can do about it, so every minute of worrying about it is a wasted one. And yet we are alive. We have a nice living on the Apahanta. We have everything we need. We are a family here. We have money, fuel, food, water, one hell of a capable doctor, robotic servants, we have our own apple tree and we can go wherever we want. As much as it pains me to see Sirius on fire, to see nomads invading the houses, to see more and more freeports getting destroyed or conquered, to see Gran Canaria invaded by Bretonia, to see Bretonia losing the war and dragging every single faction that wasn't in war with them yet into their loss instead of taking one for the team and to see Gallia sieging my homeworld while fighting the Yukon; I learned that I can't do anything about it. Sirius will keep telling her stories, and we are blessed to not be pawns in her story. We are the ones who listen to Sirius, who watch and survive, because we can. We don't need to fight. We need to do some jobs every now and then to get money and reputation, but that's it. We are safe and sound and happy. And I want you to be with us. I want you to stay with me. There is nothing you can do about Maren's incubus, and there is nothing she will do to harm you. It might be frustrating for you, now, but you can learn to accept things as they are and realize that things are not bad for us."
Remember when I said he had his moments where he talked without stopping? It was one of these moments. My mind was empty, and his words didn't mean much to me. I guess him refering to nihilism was sort of something I did understand. There was nothing I could have done about it. I could just stay and maybe become happy somehow, despite him loving a Wild. Maybe he would fall in love with me and become the father of the child. Maybe the child would have a happy living on the Apahanta. I looked at him. Omega-3's light was shining in onto him. He sat there like an angel. Maybe he was a Saint. Maybe a demon. I didn't know. For all I knew, as psychologist, was that he had some weird issues, which if things had been different could have financed some nice vacations for me, but otherwise he was sane, intelligent and charismatic. Not the man for a monogamous relationship, yes, but not a psychopath nor a sociopath. His mood was stable, this thinking linear and easy to follow. No jumps, no confusion. Simply by judging from his psychological profile, he was a leader, a protagonist. A guide. Because of that, I dismissed my thoughts of killing him and trying to escape.
"I will need time to process all this, Ezrael," I told him in my quiet voice, realizing slightly ashamed how broken it sounded from crying. "It is a bit too much to take in."
"That's what she said," he returned, smirking at me. Admittedly, he was not wrong about that either, and I had to smile for a moment. It was such a stupid topic changer, killing the sentiment of the moment. But in this case, I appreciated it.
"Thank you for being honest. I will... I need to think."
He nodded and stood up. "You're part of this ship's family, Abs. I'm glad you took it this way. I wouldn't want to lose you." He made a few steps towards the exit. "I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast. Get some sleep."
With that he left, and the nice scent with him. Biting my lower lip, I glanced at my gun. Exhaling, inhaling. Exhaling. Inhaling. Optimistic Nihilism? Sometimes he was more of a psychotherapist than I was...
I opened my eyes. Woke up in my room, alone. I was naked, covered in sweat, the blanket all over the place. Despite the ship's onboard temperature being above average as the Captain prefered it that way, I felt cold. The sweat was cold. Since the Captain had told me there was an infectee onboard, I felt horrible. I only knew so much about their abilities, but him telling me that I would be dead without seeing it coming was the last thing I wanted to hear. So I locked myself up in my room, claiming I just need a few days of rest. I wanted to do this as long as possible, to avoid her to meet me.
So far it had worked well. I spent the time just in my room, binge-watched some series, cried, threw up, overslept... I really felt horrible. It felt like the effects of the pregnancy were mixing with psychosomatical symptoms of my distress and fear for her. The biggest problem was that Vertiga said he loved her, and that she loved him. And here I was, a member of his crew, pregnant. He didn't know about it. And he didn't know that it was my fault. He couldn't have prevented it from happening.
My only hope was that she might left the ship at some point. All I had to do was to outlast her presence on the ship. Then I had more opportunities to somehow get out of this hellhole. To somehow convince him to let me leave, even with my new knowledge about his most dangerous secret.
I lay on my back, looking up at the ceiling. My hands moved down to touch my belly. It was only slightly bulged. At this point, it only looked like I had gained a few pounds. I knew that down there was something growing. And sometimes I felt the effects of my hormones, making me feel anticipation for what would be the result. I knew 40 was not considered the best age to become a mother. In fact, by the time of the birth, I would be 41. Dr. Carr said she would make sure the baby would be at the best possible health.
The door bell rang. Probably the KSR with the breakfast. Scooting off the bed, I picked up my Apahanta suit and put it on. Just in case. It was getting a bit uncomfortably tight at my belly. It was time to request a new one that was more fitting. I knew the KSRs at the workshop would quickly be able to make a new one for me. The door bell rang again, and I had moved quickly to the closest mirror to make sure I didn't look like a total wreck. My hair was slightly all over the place, so I quickly grabbed a hairband and put it on. Worked well enough for the moment. I moved to the door and opened it.
"Room service!"
My heart was beating wildly, adrenaline rushing through my veins. It was Vertiga. I gulped and looked at the tray he was holding. He made a step into my room, and I first wanted to protest, but it was too late. I only was able to watch him move further into my room, playing the tray on the edge of the bed, then he sat down. Smirking at me, he patted the empty spot next to the tray for me to sit down.
"Haven't seen you since our last talk. Was worried you're tryint to evade me," Ezrael said and smiled at me in his charming way. "Come here, please. Eat something."
So I did. The door closed again and I moved over to sit at the edge of the bed, next to the tray. It was filled with all kinds of stuff. Moving it all the way over here surely took some balancing. I looked at him, exhaling. It was slightly awkward this way.
"Only a filled mouth is an excuse to not talk with me," he said, smirking. Sighing quietly, I wanted to grab something from the tray, but his hand intercepted mine and held my wrist. Shocked, I looked at it, then up at his eyes. "Say something, please." His smile was almost gone, more apologetic.
I hesitated, frowning at him. This situation was weird, and I didn't know what to say. So I looked away. I shook my head, exhaling audibly. Then I looked back at him, then at his hand. "I don't know what to say, Captain..."
"Well, hello would be a good start. Or thank you for the breakfast delivery. Or you could compliment me for my new clothes."
I frowned at him again. "You're wearing your Apahanta suit."
"But I do look good in it, right?" he asked me, smirking.
"Well, uhm. It certainly looks good on people with a slim body type. So yes?"
He chuckled. "Could you not say that as if it was a question? Just say _Yes, my beloved Captain, you are looking very good and I barely can hold back my libido as I just want to unwrap you again and have hot sweet love with you."_
"Yes, Captain, you look good." I smirked at him, and he returned it. "It's too early for the others bits."
He let go of my hand, so I grabbed the glass of orange juice and lead it up to my lips. "I've noticed you haven't been at the canteen in the recent days. No counseling sessions, just one check-in at the med-bay. Adrianna said you needed some rest. So here I am now, sitting on your bed and look at you, and wonder how you are today. And what I can do to help you to feel better again."
Gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, and the glass was empty. The sour aftertaste made me pull a grimace for a short moment, then I looked at Ezrael again. He seemed amused from what I just did. Taking a deep breath, I thought about what to say. He was waiting.
"You have to admit, you gave me much to swallow." I realized my miswording too late as he was widely grinning at me. "It is difficult to accept that... they... aren't our enemies, when everything indicates that they are. It is difficult to... have faith in your words when they could be a result of manipulation. I will not hide it, Captain, I have concerns and I feel fear for your girlfriend. Not only because she is infected, but also because, well... we had an affair. How can I step infront of her and say hello to her in the knowledge that I slept with her boyfriend. With the man she claims to love. It is awkward for me, and as the person who is able to read body language to instantly know when someone is lying or doesn't know the answer or is speaking the truth, I know exactly how easily she would find out if I ever ended up in a conversation with her. I'm good at detecting lies, not good at lying myself."
"Then don't lie about it." He gave me a firm look. "I've slept with many women while I was together with Maren. Not only you. With Sherry, with Lorena, with your former boss Paige, hell, I slept with Sombra this morning right infront of Maren. She watched it and didn't mind it at all. She even encouraged me to do so," he explained. I didn't like it when he admitted how much he was slutting around. And cucking his girlfriend like that. I knew she was injured and bound to the bed or hoverchair, and probably couldn't give him what he wanted. Still. It didn't feel good to hear that. "Look, you don't need to tell her about it directly. Only if the topic comes up and she asks you. Otherwise it is irrelevant. And even if it comes up, it is okay. A bit weird to talk about, but okay. She won't kill you for that."
"I rather avoid her, Ezrael. If you don't mind that too much. How long is she going to stay?" I asked him.
"Weeks. And she would like to meet you. I told her that you found out, so she would like to talk with you, just to show you that she isn't a demon." Before I was able to say something, he added: "More of a troll, actually."
And that was the moment I knew I was doomed. He wanted me to meet her. I wanted to cry. I wanted to leave the ship. "It... is a bit more difficult."
A tear ran down my cheek. I couldn't hold it back. I didn't want to meet her. I wanted to escape. Ezrael took my hand again and stroke it. "It is only as problematic as you want it to be. Remember, optimistic nihilism. What's the worst thing that could happen?" My death, the death of my unborn child, the death of the entire crew, me getting infected, and so on...
"Ezrael..."
I was about to tell him. I wanted to tell him that I was pregnant, and that he was the father. I knew what his reaction would have been. But it was time to tell him.
"Ezrael, I... I am-"
The door bell rang. He looked at me, expectingly. I didn't manage to say it. I looked at the door. Whatever there was, it probably was the best chance to get out of this situation. I stood up and walked over, looking at Ezrael until I had reached the door. He just sat there on the bed, the tray next to him. I opened the door. My head turned as the light from the corridor began to break into my room. I looked at the person that had used the door bell.
It was her. Maren von Westefeld. The infectee. Seemingly normal, she sat in her hoverchair, bound to it because of her injury she suffered on the CV-Titanic. I had no idea about the specifics at that point of time. She didn't look like she was suffering in that moment. Instead, she looked at me, then at Ezrael. The room was slightly smelly from my cold sweat. She probably noticed it. Petrified, I just stared at her while Ezrael came closer to Maren and smiled at her. "What's up, Love? Didn't you say you wanted to get back to bed?" he asked her, stopping next to me. "By the way, Abigail, this is Maren. Maren, Abigail, my counselor. As you see, slightly ill, so no kissing," he joked.
I only managed to chuckle awkwardly. "Nice to meet you." I didn't extend my hand, simply because I couldn't do it. She then moved forward, closer into the door frame so the doors didn't close.
"This room is always on the way back to mine," she explained while scratching her head. "Uhm, nice to meet you too." She then cleared her throat, obviously trying to bridge the awkward silence.
"Abs was just about to eat something," Ezrael said and pointed at the tray on the bed. "And she isn't really, well, prepared," he added. I had no idea what the connotation of that was. If there even was any. I was in a weird state. I swallowed, staring at Maren as if I was facing my worst nightmare. She probably was. I had no idea what to do. I was simply frozen solid. My mind was busy trying to imagine the incubus inside her. Where would it be? At her neck? I knew nomads are psionic beings, communicating via telepathy. So I was worrying whether she was able to detect my unborn child in my belly. I couldn't tell.
"Oh, alright. She looks like she's been a little ill," Maren commented and gave me a somewhat concerned look. "Sure you shouldn't send for the doctor?"
"I was there yesterday. I just need rest," I gave back, swallowing, not really being able to hide my fear for her. My body felt cold, freezing. Ezrael must have had noticed how I performed.
"Abs, you should lay down again. Eat and drink, sleep some more. Maren and I will leave you alone," the Captain said, patting my shoulder, which made me twitch. "I'll look after you later again."
So I nodded, taking a few steps back, away from Maren and him, aiming for my bed. "Yeah, later..."
They left, the doors closed and I stood there in my room, looking at the tray he brought me. Then I threw up.
Hours had passed. I had cleaned up my room a bit, my stomach had calmed down again, although I hadn't eaten much in the meantime. My body was still shaking, and I spent most of my time sitting or laying in my bed. I didn't feel safe. Neither in my room, nor anywhere else. Ezrael would find me. She would find me. I had the blaster under my pillow. Not that it gave me more confidence. I just didn't know anything better to do. It was somewhen in the evening when the door panel was ringing again. I didn't react at all. The door opened anyways, and Captain Vertiga entered.
"Abigail, are you sleeping?" he asked and stepped further into the room. I had my back to him, one arm under the pillow, the blaster in a tight grip. With each of his steps I heard, I felt my heartbeat's pace increasing further and further. My eyes were open. I saw the disabled holographic window screen right next to me.
"Yes."
"I know you are... hassling with the latest revelation, Abs, but I need you right now. I believe you have a good insight on my crew. Adrianna hinted that there might be a pregnancy on my ship, however she doesn't want to tell me anything further. A bit silly, I think, as, I mean, we're talking about a pregnancy. Will be a bit difficult to make a secret about it for long. Nevertheless, I need to know who mother and father are, and whether they wish to stay on the Apahanta. A warship is no suitable place for a child to grow up."
He was so oblivious about it. The situation hurt so much. He would hate me the moment I told him about it. So I kept quiet, wanting to drag out the current moment before he would hate me. Maybe this was my last moment, I thought. He realized I didn't react and came even closer. I felt his weight reshaping the mattress. He had sat down next to me. His gloved hand was reaching for my shoulder, gently touching it. "Abs, I need my counselor now. I need you. I trust you. You didn't kill me when you had the chance. That means much to me."
He continued to stroke my shoulder and my arm. Time passed, and every second felt like an eternity. My head was hurting. I tried not to cry. Slowly, I grabbed his hand at my shoulder. I just held it. After a while, he scooted closer. Then he lay down next to me. I held his hand like that, felt his warmth at my back. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to be useful to him. Guiding his hand, I moved it to my breast. Then down to my belly. My other hand was still under the pillow, ready to get pulled out.
It clicked. He undestood. His hand stroke my belly carefully. I let him do. "That's... but... who?" He almost stammered, his voice insecure. I left his question without a response. That was all the response he needed. Tears were running down my eyes. I whimpered. He retracted his hand. "Abigail, who is the father!?" he asked, his voice firm and authoritarian. My grip at the blaster grew more tight. He rolled me on my back, which revealed my hand at the blaster. He first looked at my belly, only now realizing that I not just had gained weight from eating too much, but that I was pregnant. Then he saw my gun. I cried, pointing it at his chest. He ignored it. "Who!?"
But I didn't manage to say a word. Not a single word. Not his name. I simply looked at him, crying, fearing for my life while threatening his. He frowned at me, his expression a mix of surprise, anger and frustration. He shook his head. "No... no way." He smirked awkwardly at me, more out of frustration. "How!? No, impossible. That's, no. No. How would it- no no." He began to breathe more heavily, looking around, blinking frequently. "We always used at least one contraceptive. That's impossible. The very few times we had no condom at hand, you took the pill. I made sure you did. I saw it. It's impossible."
I gulped, unable to say anything, still pointing the gun at him. He slapped it out of my hands, hurting me like that. The blaster flew across the room, dropping to the floor, still on maximum energy. "Say something!!" he yelled, but I couldn't stop crying. He moved off the bed, walked over to the blaster. I was sure I was done for. This was it. My child and I would die. He picked up the gun and looked at me with his desperate eyes. I couldn't bear it. closing my own eyes, not wanting to see him killing me. Tears were still flowing.
Something dropped to the floor. It was nothing heavy. I opened my eyes again after a few seconds, realizing it was the blaster battery as he had disarmed the weapon. Then he looked at me, still holding the empty blaster. "Was it my fault?" he asked me, his voice more calm.
Ezrael remained where he was, and so was I, trying to regain the ability to speak. It took a while, and his green eyes locked on me, his look piercing me didn't make it better. After some time, I regained some stability and sat up, covering myself in the blanket despite having been wrapped in my Apahanta suit. My eyes were red and felt like it. I sniffled over and over again, not wanting to have nostril goo everywhere. "No..."
"Did the contraceptives fail?" he asked quickly afterwards. I shook my head. He inhaled, then exhaled, balling his fists.
"It is my fault," I assured him, looking at my hands ontop of my covered knees. "When you got shot, and I was with you in the hospital. I was with you there the entire time, watched over you, cleaned you, and at some point, wanted to give you what you wanted me to give you once we would have been back on the Apahanta. I don't know what you remember, but... when I slept with you there, I forgot about taking the pill when we returned to the ship. I simply forgot it. Every single time afterwards I took it, but not back then. And well, that was enough..."
My cheeks were red, burning, and I would have liked to cry again. He was visibly angry, looking at the blaster in his hand, then at the battery on the floor infront of him. "I didn't realize it until the second month. The symptoms were suddenly more notable. I wasn't sure about it, not at all. Then recently I was at the medical bay for the routine check, and Dr. Carr told me I was pregnant. And you were the only man I had sex with in the last... well, years. I'm almost in the third month."
"And you didn't ask her to abort it." When he said that, I turned to face him, biting my lower lip.
"I... I first wanted to. Yes, I really wanted..." I had to pause here, taking in some air, trying to not cry again. "But I'm fourty. Chances are this my last chance to ever become a mother. I was hoping for a chance to leave the ship, returning home to Cambridge. But then I heard about Bretonia fucking up wherever it is possible, Ezrael, and chances are Cambridge will burn soon. If not bombarded by Gallia, then by Corsairs, or hell, IMG or ALG or Hessians. And I can't blame them. I then didn't know where to go. Staying here seems like a wonderful thing, but then again, I was literally forcing a child onto you, against your will, without your permission. I knew you wouldn't allow that, and I was willing to accept having a child without a father-"
"You force a child onto me. You think about taking it away from me. My own flesh and blood..." he sounded, holding his chest with one hand. He dropped the empty gun, his other hand pushing against his chest. His heart was aching. I watched him taking steps back to the wall, leaning against it, sinking to the ground. He stared at me, hateful. His breathing was heavy and uncontrolled. "Maren will kill me. Maren will kill me..." His voice was weak. "She will kill me, you fucking cunt," he then yelled. "She will kill both us. We're done for. That's it..." It looked like he was trying to squeeze his fingers into his torso to grab his heart.
"Apahanta, medical emerge-"
"Apahanta, please remove all rights from Counselor Abigail Ryan at once!" he yelled, overriding my attempt to call Dr. Carr. He was visibly in pain, and I recalled he had a weak heart, highly vulnerable to stress. I stared at him, more concerned about him than about myself in that moment. He was about to die! I scooted out of the bed and rushed to the gun and the battery. He watched me, shaking uncontrolled, suffering from a heart attack. I clipped the battery into the blaster and shot two times at my cabinet, realizing how powerful the maximum energy setting was as half of the cabinet and the contents were gone. Something I needed to worry about later. The red alert was activated. I disabled the gun again and threw it away, moving closer to Ezrael. I had no idea what to do in that moment, so I forced him to lay down on his back and grabbed the zipper of his suit at his neck, pulling it down to his lower belly, trying to make breathing easier for him. Looking at his face, I realized he had lost consciousness already. The material of the suit was too thick to allow me measuring his pulse at his wrist, so I tried to get one at his neck. Realising that my gloved hands wouldn't allow for that, I lowered my head to his mouth, trying to find out whether he was breathing. He was not.
Trying to remember the basics of the first-aid-course three months ago, I proceeded with CPR. Not much later, a security team and Dr. Carr appeared...
A day had passed. I sat on the bed of my prison cell, hugging my legs, my head burried between my knees. It felt like there was no liquid left to continue crying, although I wished I could have continued like that. It is not like I was treated bad in any way. The prison cells of the ship were rather luxurious, compared with what usually is meant to be a prison cell. I had a toilet behind a half-transparent wall, a bed with a soft mattress, a sink and a sonic shower. Got my meals. The crew was not allowed to visit me. I was all alone in that cell.
I had no idea whether Ezrael survived the heart attack or not. Dr. Carr arrived rather quick, so I guessed chances for him were good. Another indicator was that nobody had taken care of me yet, and I believed if he had died, I would have been in even more trouble already. So I sat there on my bed, tried to sleep as often as possible and as long as possible, ate what the robots brought me and drank my water. After all, I had a little passanger to feed.
The image of his hateful glance at me was burned into my mind. He had all reason to be mad at me, but it was overwhelming nevertheless. I wanted to call Dr. Carr when he went on his knees, but he removed my rights on the ship just in that moment. As if he wanted to die in that moment. It meant he either hated me or children that much. No matter how this would end, so I thought, Ezrael would not want to be affiliated with this pregnancy. Not that I had much hope he would.
From my perspective, I didn't see it, but I heard the door opening in the afternoon of the second day of me being in the prison cell. Expectantly, I looked up for a moment and was somewhat elated to see Ezrael to move infront of the prison cell, where he turned to face me while standing infront of the little bench that was there. He looked fine, probably freshly showered, wearing his Apahanta suit. I noticed the gun holster wrapped around his right thigh, from my perspective left, filled with blaster pistol. It was highly unusual for him to walk around armed, and I had a very bad feeling about it.
He looked at me in a rather neutral way, maybe a bit thoughtful, or unsure what to say. Not that I couldn't imagine why. After a few moments, he opened his mouth. "In both Liberty and Bretonia, and with that also on Curacao, what you did, in the legislative's terminology, is defined as semen theft. You impregnated yourself against my consent. In comparable cases, the accused offender had to pay monetary recompensation and the victim was, by law, able to not affiliate as father of the child." I knew that much. "Nevertheless, the father had to live on with the knowledge of a biological offspring being somewhere out there. And I believe that is the biggest issue I have with this."
He sighed, looking at the ground infront of me instead of at me. "We're not in Bretonia or Liberty, nor do we adhere to their laws, in this case. On the Apahanta, I am the law, the judge and the executor. This is something that was also defined in the contract you signed when you joined the Apahanta. On this ship, your life is in my hands. I give the orders, you carry them out. For two years at least. After that time, you will receive an amount of money that will render you financially independent in case you prefer a normal life on some safe planet. That was all defined in the contract." He gulped audibly. "I will be honest with you, Abigail. I have no idea what to do with you. I don't want to be father. I don't want you to be the mother of my child. I would prefer you would abort it, rather sooner than later, as right now, the thing in your belly has no consciousness. I would prefer if you would stay here on the Apahanta as loyal crew member and counselor."
"I won't abort it," I told him straight away, my voice having been rather quiet. I wanted to say more, but he continued to talk, over me.
"The situation leaves me with few choices, Abigail. I will either become the father of an unwanted child, no matter whether we have it together or just you on your own, or I will become a murderer of a potential human being, or the murderer of that and the woman who impregnated herself with my biological data against my will and consent. I really hate every single option. I hate that you put me into this position. I am highly disappointed by what you did. I also know you distrust me because of Maren, and I see no way to force you to trust me and her, despite me having treated you nicely since we met. Maren also offered another option, but I believe that one wouldn't be in your interest neither, nor would it be in mine. She proposed to relocate you to the Schiller."
The Schiller. No way. "According to her, there are established assets of the Wild to take care of children, which I don't doubt there are. Nevertheless, I don't want my child to grow up surrounded by infected and nomads, just to become one of the former. I would rather kill you and our child to spare them that. Not many Wild live in a symbiotic relationship with their incubi, and Maren is one of the few. Otherwise, the incubi are forcing a parasitical dominance over the host. That would most likely happen to you, and despite me being mad at you, I will spare you that kind of life. It would be worse than death."
I buried my face in my knees again, having no idea what to say. I was certain he would kill me in the next minutes.
"So I asked myself, what is worse? Being the father of an unwanted child, or being a murderer of a woman and her unborn child?" he sounded, his hand at the handle of his holstered gun. He hesitated for a moment. "I've killed people already. Technically that makes me a murderer already anyway. I killed people when I took over this ship, and I killed four people on Gran Canaria when they tried to steal my fighter. Their faces are burned into my memories, and when my nightmares aren't about Curacao getting destroyed, Loyola raping me or my crew getting killed by Yoshida's and Golanski's bloodthirsty henchmen, I dream about those people I killed. How I shot them, how I broke their necks. How I got injured each time and went berserk to survive. And now I look at you and wonder, would one more murder matter?"
I didn't to listen to him anymore. I didn't want to imagine him killing me.
"Yes, it would. Which is why I won't kill you. I will need to live with the fact that I have child. With you."
I looked up, my face red, eyes wet. It was difficult to breathe and my head hurt from dehydration. I stared at him, as he sat down on the bench. He idly glanced at the ground infront of him. "In return, I demand your absolute loyalty to me. Forever. You will remain on this ship for the rest of your life. You will have our child here on the Apahanta. You will never leave the Apahanta anymore, as I can't risk you telling anyone about what you know. You will continue to work as counselor. You will have a good life here, surrounded by good people that care about you and that will help you and me with raising our child. I will, however, not be your husband, ever. You will be the mother, I will be the father. Nothing more. To you, I will remain the Captain. If I give an order, you will do as I say, at once."
He threw a firm glance at me, and I wiped my eyes. I would be allowed to have my child, and he would take care of it as well. But I would be imprisoned on this ship for the rest of my life... Probably the best deal I would ever get from him. So I nodded, swallowing, still feeling horrible.
"Good. For the time being, you will remain in here until Maren leaves the ship. She has no access to this part of the ship, so she won't be able to harm you, should she suddenly feel like it. I highly recommend to not challenge or provoke her in any way. It is a miracle that she didn't kill me, or you. You can't imagine how it feels to her that some fourty year old blonde got pregnant from the literally single time she had unprotected sex with her husband. While she herself can't get pregnant because of the damage cardamine did to her ovaries, despite being a decade younger. She hates you, and I take a very big risk by not killing you or surrendering you to the Schiller. Maybe you will understand that they are not as evil as you think they are, given how merciful Maren is despite not being limited in her actions by laws. And she killed more people than I did..."
Maybe it was true, and I should have been thankful for that mercy. But I wasn't. How could one thank the enemy for keeping the priviledge of being alive on one? I had to swallow over and over again, tried to look at him. The weirdest part was that I still loved him. I looked at him and knew he could have killed me, but instead he chose to endure all the troubles. I forced a child onto him and he accepted it. He let me live, on his ship, where I would always be at his side and live under very luxurious conditions for a non-planet-based lifestyle. It could have been worse, really. And he still protected me.
He stood up, stopped infront of the force field. I heard him sighing as he looked at the floor.
"The KSRs will bring you anything you ask them to. Your rights will also get restored, within new limits. Once Maren leaves, you will be able to continue your work as my counselor. And I expect peak performance from you. Until then, try to relax, and make sure your eat and drink enough. Not caring for you but for the child."
He inhaled and exhaled slowly, then turned away, about to leave the room again. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't open my mouth. And then he was gone, leaving me alone for the remaining days of Miss von Westefeld being on the ship with him.
For more than two months I refused to do this again. I thought it would be too dangerous. I thought about getting rid of this holotainment band and just have any trace of my double play vanish. But here I am, convinced enough that I need this kind of recollection to do it again. It's impossible to hide my belly at this point, I'm almost in the sixth month by the time I record this. No idea whether I'll ever rewatch these recordings, but in case I do, I rather spare myself the details of the side effects of a pregnancy. I fell like I have all of them.
The reason why I picked up this holotainment band again was because of a long, long conversation I had with Ezrael today. Most of the time he was talking, telling me about the events of the last three months from his perspective. He tried to explain things to me, expecting me to listen as a counselor. It was weird, as it showed me more aspects of his personality.
He sentenced me to the observation room, patted the spot next to him on the bench while staring out of the panorama window. He had taken a shower before that. His hair smelled fruity, and he wore his cozy black harem pants and a tight black T-shirt with long sleeves. It was a rather rare sight as he usually wore his Apahanta suit or something more fitting to his lifestyle. I walked over to him, feeling slightly overdressed in my olive dress. Wearing my uniform was impossible with the baby belly, so he bought me all kinds of clothes that would look good on a pregnant woman. It was a nice move of him, although he always said he did it only to make looking at me less depressing.
"Where are we?" I asked him, not really recognizing the space visible through the window. "Omicron Sigma?"
"We don't know, really. Uncharted territory, possibly. I've told everyone to call it Omicron Nu for now. Was the first unused letter of the greek alphabet I could think of. The connection to the neural net is very weak and purely relying on the jump hole we took to come here." He sighed. "I really didn't expect this. Thought we'd found another wreck. Instead we found a stable jump hole in-"
He looked at me and stopped talking. Then he glanced out of the window again, as if there was something in the distance. "Doesn't matter anyway. I wanted you to come here so we could talk. Like, not small talk." Giving him a questioning look, I lay my head slightly lopsided. "I've come to the realization that in three months, you'll give birth to my child. And I would kind of prefer if we'd be a functioning set of parents for it. So we need to figure out how a functioning set of parents would be possible."
That was certainly no small talk. Little did I know how much was about to come with this introduction. "Okay?"
"I'll not change my mind on your future on the ship. You'll be bound to stay here for the rest of your life, as counselor and mother. You'll need to cope with everything and anything happening here, and you'll need to cope with me being the man I am, doing the things I do, and me being the Captain and father of the child."
"I was alright with that the moment I decided to keep the child, Ezrael," I assured him. I had learned to deal with that in the last two months, and even before that. I knew this was better than death, and that I was protected from both him and Miss von Westefeld as long as I was on the ship. It was okay. There were worse things. I had no desire to leave, and no desire to return to Bretonia. "You don't need to be concerned about me."
"I am not," he clarified. "I don't really care for you. You're the biggest disappointment of my life for what you did." That one hurt. "But I rely on you to take care of our child. We need to work together on that, hand in hand. Which is why I won't say things like that anymore. You know my opinion about you, and I hope you will never forget it." He turned his head slighty in my direction, not facing me directly. "Counselor and mother. Neither wife nor girlfriend."
"I guess I am here then as Counselor?" I asked him, trying not to think about the cut he just made. Getting treated like a persona non grata was something I still didn't get used to.
"And as mother." He gave me a weird look. Sort of neutral, lacking his usual sovereignity. "The past few months were not easy, at least not for me. I I feel like I'm reaching the limits of my capacities, at least mentally. Well, and physically, regarding my heart, but that's none of your business," he said, looking at my belly for a moment. He shook his head and stood up, walked closer to the window and looked out. His body threw a shadow in the dark green light that broke into the observation deck. "I don't really know where to start, to be honest."
"Then take the first thought. It's not like I'm planning to go anywhere, Captain," I said quietly, trying to focus on what he wanted from me. I certainly knew I wanted a pair of those pants for me as well.
"Okay," he sounded and took a deep breath. "A while ago, I was on Baden Baden with Maren. Brought her home after the we rescued her at Boulogne. I think that was the moment where I realized that things feel so incredibly different now." He turned around to face me from where he was. "She guided me from the spaceport to the house I bought for us. I never was there before, having fully trusted her to pick a good one. It's a big house, certainly more than enough for me and her, and certainly big enough to offer space for Leon, Sombra, Noel, Dinah, Simone and possibly two other people. Not too far away from the black sand beaches, you know. Pretty lovely. Weather is kind of similar as on Curacao."
He paused, licking over his lower lip for a moment while frowning at me. "Mittens was there. That's the cat I adopted from Gran Canaria like two years ago. He gained some fat. Anyway. Maren said we'd be alone for a while since Dinah was at a friend, having Woofers with her. That's the little dog she always walks around with in her jacket's pocket."
"Both pets were on the Apahanta already, I know who you're talking about," I reminded him.
"Really?"
"Is the story going to be about your pets?"
"No?" He gave me a confused look.
"Well, then continue."
He hesitated for a moment, frowning at me. "So she offered she could cook something for me. So I flirted a bit with her and she did as she said, cooking for me. Obviously nothing great. It was edible. Doesn't matter, really. What matters is that I stood in the kitchen of this house. It generally looked like people were living in there. Not dirty or anything, but also not polished like the hotels I usually lived in, where the room service was cleaning everything to the point where everything was so shiny that it was dangerous for any epileptics." For a moment I wondered why he wanted to word it like that. "I sat down in the living room. There was stuff on the little table infront of the couch. A single sock lay under it, because Dinah hated shoes and socks and Mittens loves to carry her socks around, apparently. I heard Maren doing things in the kitchen, while I sat there on that couch, still wearing my Apahanta suit. Things felt surreal. Like a different life. It wasn't my life. I felt like a present time-line episode in a science fiction series. It was uncomfortable."
He paused, chewing on his cheek. "And then?"
"I moved back into the kitchen and took her from behind."
"As in, you hugged her from behind?" I asked.
"No. The way you would expect me to do things the way I phrase them," he clarified. "Which was probably the reason why the food was mildly okayish, since I prevented her from cooking the way she wanted to."
"So you did your typical thing." He raised an eyebrow. "Well, whenever you feel uncomfortable or insecure, you're trying to seduce your way out of the situation. We've talked about it in the past already."
"No," he interrupted me, raising a finger. "You talked about it in the past while I nodded every now and then, imagining being somewhere else. Admittedly with women. Nude."
"I mean, that is sort of a defensive mechanism for you. Admittedly, a weird one, not rare for your kind of person. Many women do that, which is often the cause for the end of previous relationships, because of unfaithfulness. To break it down to something that doesn't sound as cringy, though: people tend to use their strengths to cover their weaknesses." Like I do, my strength being the amounts of ice cream I can devour when being sad.
"Okay, could we not talk about your obsession with my sexuality and focus more on the, uh, trigger?" he asked, obviously not liking it when I analyzed his behavorial patterns.
"And what do you think is the trigger?" I asked him.
He exhaled, reacting as if I was the person to tell him. "I don't know, you're the counselor? I mean, all I did was being there in that house. I had asked her about her liking that scenery, with the, uh, house and garden and Mittens, and being in the kitchen, cooking food for me, wearing an apron. I asked her whether she wanted to be a housewife. She said yes, as if I was supposed to know that. As if it was obvious and as if that was her life goal for an eternity. I had asked her whether her mother was a housewife as well, she said yes. And the more we talked about it, the more I wondered how I fit into that picture." He waved his hands, gesturing during his speech. "I couldn't have fit less into that scene, really. I wore my Apahanta suit, still thinking about us almost having bombarded Boulogne. Still being afraid of the implications of Doctor Martinez'es, erh, 3D chess play. About Maren's adopted child being a clone, a genetically engineered child, possibly a pawn in the Doctor's game. Possibly a psionic. I thought about the damage the Apahanta had taken during that rushed jump hole transit. There was no room for me settling down on Baden Baden with her. With an infectee, pretending she wasn't."
I blinked at him. "Isn't that scenario out of question anyway, given you and I will have a child here and raise it on this ship?" And judging from countenance, I had asked something he hadn't thought about yet.
"You know, before you continue, I'd like you to explain to me what happened in Picardy. I know what happened, but I don't know why. And I'm not the only crew member who'd like to know why we almost attacked the asteroid base." That was, sadly, the truth. We never got an explanation for it.
I was still sitting on the bench in the observation deck. He was close to the panorama window, looking out as we circled the green sun of this new system. His silhouette in the light was satisfying to look at. "That's a longer story, Abs. I've never found the time and nerves to file a report for the crew to read." He paused for a moment. "Mostly the latter."
"Then take your time now and explain it to me. Maybe I can help," I offered. Ezrael was usually very ambitious when it came to these things. The crew loved him for that, and the general way he treated them. They were happy on the Apahanta. I knew nobody was mad about the incident, but the lack of transparency was bothering people. And me.
I heard him sighing. He glanced over at the green sun, the solar shielding obviously preventing his eyes from blinding. Then he shook his head, biting on his cheeks over and over again. That was something he did frequently. According to Miss Hookier, that was something he never did before he took over the command of the Apahanta. Slowly, he sat down, his back against the window, his face turned to me. With the light beaming in from behind him, I only saw his silhouette. Couldn't help but feel like he did it on purpose, again. "Months ago, Maren grew impatient about our lack of success in making a baby. You know, cardamine rendered her infertile. We had talked about a surrogate mother and she wasn't happy about the possible women in question, probably mostly out of jealousy. Big problem with her."
"Can't imagine why," I commented.
If rolling eyes would make a sound, I'd have heard it from his eyes. "She browsed the neural net for experts. First about repairing her ovaries, and with the realization of that not being possible, alternatives for creating a child without the female womb as carrying vessel. Due to her reputation, Maren found Dr. Theresa Martinez, a supergenius from Cambridge. Professor, two PhDs, etc. They met and talked about the possibilities. Quite funny how you're not the only woman stealing my semen, Abs, because she apparently had a sample of mine with her. Martinez told her that if they used the DNA of mine and hers, it would mean the child would have the altered DNA of hers, with the same advantages and flaws. She would get a child with a cardamine addiction. And a big dong." He smirked audibly.
"Maren didn't want a child with cardamine addiction from the very beginning. She wants her child to make that decision on their own when it is mature enough for that. She asked whether the altered DNA could get removed, replaced with normal human DNA, but Martinez explained to her that in that case, the child would have as much of her own DNA as it would have from any other person. So they realized there was an issue with that as well. Martinez then offered her another option. If she just wanted to be the mother of a child, why not get one that already exists? So Maren got advised to adopt Dinah from a foster home on Cambridge. Back then we didn't know Dinah is not a normal child. Dinah is a clone. A genetically engineered human, created by Martinez."
My mouth formed a perfectly round O. "Are you serious?" I asked him, having troubles buying the story. I knew there was some weird stuff going on about Dinah.
"Maren quickly grew very attached to Dinah, which is honestly not difficult. She's like a young version of herself. Maren probably finds alot of herself in her new daughter. Even I start liking the child, even though I hate Maren for adopting a child without consulting me. According to her, I have had my chances to become part in her wish to found a family but decided against it. Which makes my situation with you quite ironic, and moreso frustrating to me." He raked his fingers through his thick hair. I had done that a few times when he slept, back in the hospital on Gran Canaria, when he was shot. Very satisfying feeling.
"Martinez had a certain interest in keeping in touch with Maren and Dinah. At some point, the Doctor was at Livadia and stood infront of the Apahanta's mooring tunnel. She wanted to see Dinah. For some reason, she knew where she was supposed to be, however Maren and Dinah weren't with me at that time. They were on Baden Baden. Martinez took the opportunity to invite herself to the Apahanta, so I took the time and drank a tea with her in the canteen. She confronted me with the accusation of Maren being infected. Later she said she knew because she is a psionic. Martinez said she wanted to find out whether I was a suitable ally for a possible fight against the Nomads. But not the physical ones. She wants to fight and eliminate the entity behind the ships, once and for all. She explained it to me with a drawing, telling me what I already knew myself about the Nomads. I showed her the recordings of our battle with Kapheira."
"We parted on neutral terms, as it felt like neither of us was sure about what to do. I mean, she knew somehow that Maren was infected. She knew I am in a relationship with her. Why looking for an ally against the Nomads in a guy who lives with an infectee? That was what I wondered about." He exhaled audibly. "As if she knew I still hate the Nomads."
"And then later, there was the incident in Omicron Minor. You remember it from the internal news. The Titanic, the ship I sold Martinez'es assistant like a year and a half ago, sent a distress call to the Apahanta, summoning us to Minor. We came, only to find out that Maren and Dinah were on that ship. Simone as well. Doctor Martinez and her assistant, too. I went over there to rescue Maren and Dinah, and Simone joined us. Then the Schiller arrived, which made us leave until we found out about... it being commanded by Maren. Absolute mindfuck. I knew she was still working for the Wild, but I didn't know she was commanding a warship in her second life."
Once more he paused, audibly struggling with the story. It was stressing him out to talk about it. "When the Schiller took over, they boarded the Titanic. The Doctor was said to have shot herself in the head to not get infected. Her assistant was dead as well. No survivors. Good, right? Just the ones we had on the Apahanta. Maren, Dinah and Simone. And then we found out about Dinah and Simone both being clones."
"It was where things started to look suspicious to me, really. Maren and Dinah got kidnapped by Martinez. Neither of the two had memories about how it happened or for what reason. To them, they were on Baden Baden the one moment, the next moment, with headaches, on the Titanic. Maren's incubus was extracted and later on the Schiller put back into her body. That was why I was over there. I watched it happen. The incubus, Valery, was injured. Not even Valery remembered how it happened. Maren was bound to the bed for the next few days, and Noel took care of Simone."
"What does all of this have to do with Boulogne?" I asked. It was interesting to listen to, and opened up many questions, but I didn't see what the connection was.
"That's what I was about to come to. Once Maren felt better, she returned to the Schiller. There was work to do, and the Wild wanted to know more about the Titanic. So Maren took it to one of their shipyards, where it was supposed to be, uh, searched, analyzed, whatnot. Maren was the only person on the ship, as moving it didn't require more than her. But before it arrived at," he said, then hesitated, "... at their destination, the ship jumped out, remotely controlled somehow. Not that that is outlandish, given we do that with our Rovers as well. Maren was kidnapped, by a ship. She sent a distress call. To me, since the Nomads wouldn't have risked anything to just rescue one agent. Looks like I'm useful for more than just fun in bed, eh? And that was pretty much where our intervention began."
"So you're saying we received a distress call from Picardy in Gallia, from your girlfriend."
"Yes." He scratched his arm slightly through the cloth of his long-sleeved black T-shirt. "We were in Kappa when we received it, and literally every second was counting. That was why we had to take risks we otherwise wouldn't have taken. Maren said her ship was entered and people were searching for her, probably not with good intentions. So I ordered a jump to the Omega-7 system. We cloaked, entered Stuttgart, then Cologne. Our good friend Ivy Hawk showed me the jump hole to Zurich, which practically leads to Picardy. It was the fastest way for us, so we used that jump hole. Not 100% stable, as we found out. At least not for capital ships. So we arrived in Gallia, the ship damaged here and there. Cloak still working. We moved to Picardy and used the coordinates Maren sent us. It was close to a small moon, so we found it quickly. Boulogne Base, of the Gallic Brigands. We uncloaked infront of it. The Titanic was there, orbiting the station. I ordered an EMP strike on the Titanic, so it wouldn't move away. Then we targeted Boulogne, as I thought those Brigands were behind all this, until Doctor Martinez joined the audio channel before the situation would have escalated. For some reason, the Brigands listened to her, not attacking us."
"Eeh," I sounded out loud, raising my index finger, "I thought she was dead?"
"Everyone thought so. Except the Brigands. But it was her voice. Her way of talking. I demanded her to surrender Maren to me, and she accepted without any issue, claiming she didn't know Maren was on the ship. I asked her quite a bunch of questions. She answered most of them, again without any hostility. Then we fucked off. You know the rest. We returned to Sirius, dropped Maren and me at Baden Baden and so on."
He stood up, stretching himself before turning to face the window again. He was leaning against it with an arm. "That leaves quite a bunch of questions open, Ezrael. Are you sure that was Doctor Martinez?"
"We don't know for sure. The issue is that there are multiple possibilities now. A: She was fake. A holograph, voice emulator, such things. An AI, possibly. Not really too farfetched, given she was brilliant, rich, had connections and possibly the braincells to do that. Or someone else did. For some reason. B: It was her. In that case, what died on the Titanic in Omicron Minor was not her. Possibly a clone, given Dinah and Simone are clones as well. She possibly can genetically engineer humans to look and be the way she wants. Hashtag godcomplex. Oh, and then there is C: The Doctor died on the Titanic in Omicron Minor, and we were dealing with her clone. Don't know what is worse. What I know is, however, that there is a psionic woman out there that knows for sure now that I'd risk my ship to rescue an infectee."
"And, would you do it again?" I asked him, giving him a curious look. "I mean, if there was a chance to create a controlled scenario that would result in you getting rid of Maren or merely get rid of her incubus, would you consider playing along?"
His look was making it obvious that he didn't like the question, and that he didn't understand where it came from. "How is that relevant?"
"What if her psionic powers told her that you are in a constant fight between good and evil when it comes to Maren and her incubus? You love her, but you also hate her for what she is. You love her so much, you played with the thought of settling down with her, if it was possible. You did so many things for her, even helping her disappearing in Liberty's criminal records. You defended her from Auxesia and the Lane Hackers. So I am wondering, if you had the chance to get rid of either her and the incubus or only the latter, would you consider it. Because, as it looks to me, your relationship won't develop any further at this point, and with you and me having this child, I doubt it will become better. However, you are sort of bound to her, and can't get rid of her. If you piss her off, the Nomads and the Wild will void your NAP with them. Then you are prey. High priority target, given all the stuff you know."
A minute of silence. I stared at him, trying to imagine what was going on in his head right now. He just stood there at the window, looking out while chewing on his cheek. The silence was weird. Not the typical awkward silence, but one that makes you painfully aware of how grim the situation was actually looking. Sighing inwardly, I made a move to stand up, wanting to tell him that I believed he needed a bit of time to think about things by himself. But he turned towards me. "Don't go." And so I sat down again, exhaling. I held my belly. The weight was uncomfortable. I simply felt fat. And it wouldn't get better in the next three months at all.
"Anything else you want to talk about?" I asked him.
He shook his head. "Not really. Just don't leave yet."
"Okay?" Doing as he said, I remained seated, looking back and forth between him and what we saw out there in his new system. "Shouldn't you be on the bridge and look at what we're mapping here?"
"I'm looking at it right now," he said, pointing at the window. "Big green sun, a few planets and a gas giant. Edge Nebula all around us. You know, one would think I should be excited about this. But truth being told, we're probably not the first to find this system. The Nomads probably knew about this already as well. We don't know how long the jump hole will remain stable, either. And if not, it'll just end up as another battleground between Order and Core, maybe even Corsairs and Maltese. And nomads. And Zoners. I can imagine them building another freeport here, which will end up becoming home of drama and suffering."
"You're painfully negative about it. I thought you'd be more of an explorer and adventurer about it."
"I don't feel like being an adventurer today," he gave back. It was weird to see him being like that. "To be honest, this reminds me of our time out of bounds. We lost half of the crew back then and were brought to our very limits, physically and mentally, just to survive. We risked too much. I mean, we are here by controlled terms this time, and not too far away from colonized regions. But still, look out there."
"Any house space system has a traffic count of thousands and millions every day. In Delta it's dozens to hundreds a day. Here, it's just us. When you realize that, you feel very small, very isolated. Very vulnerable. Very naked." He looked at me, smirking awkwardly. "I always feel like house space is the most dangerous space to roam around in. Pirates, terrorists, factions left and right. Then there are the habitated Edge Worlds. Order, Corsairs, Gammu, Nomads. But here, in these systems, I feel like we are alone, and it feels very sobering."
"Negative and nihilistic, it is," I commented. Felt like he had a midlife crisis.
"Space is all about nihilism. Between where we are and that gas giant over there is a whole lot of nothing. Between this sun and the closest habitated Omicron star is a whole lot of nothing. If we die here for some reason, chances are nobody would find us ever. Or in thousands of years only." He exhaled, shaking his head, then chuckled. "I start sounding like Leon. Poor guy. He has changed so much since he joined. I asked him right after the desertion to join and help me, and he came and helped me and we went through all kinds of horrible scenarios together. Back then he was a... well, he was like me when I was in his age. He was used to partying all day on Curacao. Then he met Nancy, fell in love with her, suffered with her and because of her. Every month in space turned him less happy. He became more fearful and kept telling me to give up on the Apahanta, sell it and settle down again. Curacao is safe, he said. He even left the crew for a while to stay on Curacao, although forcefully. Then he returned, just in time before Gallia and Liberty turned Curacao's orbit into a warzone. Now he lives on my ship, heartbroken because Nancy forgot about him in the most literal sense and Curacao is inaccessible. He is literally forced to live in fear on this ship."
"I've been talking to him about that quite frequently. It's less problematic than you think, at this point. He seems to cope with it. As long as you keep him busy in the engineering, he seems to forget about everything else." At least partially. Miss Hookier hinted that he had something in his personal quarters that made it obvious he hadn't forgotten about Miss Sweetwater.
Ezrael moved over and sat down next to me again. His arms were left and right leaned over the backrest. "It's weird. I feel like I'm suffering from the same effects as he does, or did. Maybe it is the isolation? Or that damn bounty on my head. The Apahanta is the safest places for us in Sirius. Our enemies need multiple ships to break these shields, and even more to break the hull. We also have everything we need. Months of supplies, partially self-sustainment in terms of water and food. We can harvest gas and gather ores, salvage remains and keep us fueled, repair the ship. We can remain cloaked for weeks. Radiation is no issue thanks to our armor. This ship is a flying fortress." He nodded at the window. "But this is creepy. We're facing the Unknown."
He remained silent for a while once more. He was obviously bothered. I mean, I really knew this feeling. Space is dangerous. Death was literally all around us, and everything protecting us from it was one of the most high tech warships out there. But I had something that reminded me of why I kept on going. So I took his hand and placed it on my belly. I'll never forget the way he looked at it, and then at me. I smiled at him. It was the first time he had placed his hand on my belly, at least in a non-sexual manner. "Maybe our child will be born in a system like these. In the Unknown."
It felt like he only now realized how much of a thing this was at this point. The sixth month was about to begin. "Sometimes it takes bravery to fight the fear of the unknown, to see what beauty lies behind it."
Why hello again, my dear diary. I know you're a digital object without soul, but I'm sure you still did miss me!
A lot has happened in the meantime. I don't even remember when my last entry was. Probably too long ago. It's currently the first night without Ez sleeping next to me. And I can't sleep, not at all. So why not use my creative energies for something productive instead of thinking about the horrible decisions I made in my life and awkward moments I caused in the past.
I guess the biggest change is that the war is over now. Sort of. Ez allowed us to keep us updated on the recent events. I'll drop the list of all references he shared with us here.
All in all, the situation looks extremely grim for Bretonia. Leeds is lost, New London in ruins. Billions died. It's ridiculous. How easy it rolls off the tongue. Billions died. We are facing the biggest genocide in mankinds entire history. I can't fathom it. Nobody on this ship can. It is a testimony on how incredibly destructive mankind has become. We are able to kill billions of people in a few days, rendering an entire planet, the highest populated planet of Sirius, uninhabitable. At this point I'm not sure what to think anymore. I'm sad. And angry. This could have been prevented if Bretonia had surrendered. There is no excuse to this. I should blame and hate the ones who caused this, the crazed Gallics, but I can't help but think that all of this blood is at the hands of the Queen and my government. Her speech was just a political stunt to please Liberty and the other allies that didn't suffer even a tiny bit of what Bretonia just endured.
I don't understand this. Maybe the Captain didn't share any of it, but where are the condolences? Where are the governments of the other houses taking in what happened in Bretonia, learning from these mistakes, showing any form of... regret, empathy, any emotion?
I lay here in my comfortable bed, can eat anything I want, drink whatever I want, do whatever I want within the limits Ezrael imposed on me, and I am still living a better life than anyone on Leeds or New London right now. I made my peace with the thought of being bound to this ship for the rest of my life because of Luna, but the Apahanta is anything else than a prison. Leeds and New London are. Sprague probably as well.
It's frustrating to think about these things.
But luckily, I have this glimmer of hope here, right here sleeping on my chest. I am a mother now. Ezrael named her Luna. He was with me during the entire birth. Even before, he suddenly began to spend more time with me again, no longer showing any signs of his anger towards me for forcing this little wonder onto him. He was happy when she was born. It was surreal, to be perfectly honest. I didn't expect him to be take this so serious. Every second or third night, he sleeps next to me. He takes care of the little girl. We're even having sex again. I'm just hoping he'll help me getting through the PPD.
Luna is quite a surprise. She rarely cries. Physically pretty average and healthy, very baby-ish. Natural birth, by the way. Big tennis. Turns out it was not just baby that left my body there. Dr. Carr did a good job, though, and I think she was quite happy to have been able to assist there. Ez lay right next to me and held my hand. We were both pretty surprised about how Luna didn't smell nice when she was put on my chest, with all the amniotic fluid and vernix on her. I guess that was just a lie by the media. Get more babies, they smell nice! Fuck my ass, they don't.
Right now Ez is in his room, with Sombra and Noel. There are a few weird things going on right now on the ship. I didn't pay much attention, but apparently we picked up gallic people here in Leeds and are now on the way out. Cloaked, of course. No idea why Ez would pick up gallic people, but I guess there have been plenty of deserters because of the entire Leeds and New London bombardement thing. Maybe we'll get a few new crew members soon. In the meantime I'm sort of bound to stay here in my room. Luna sleeps most of the time, especially when I have her at my chest. I guess she likes the double chin I get when I look down at her.
I'm a bit concerned, though. Ez said he would want to introduce Maren to the baby. After all, she is his girlfriend, and I'm just... well, the mother of his child. I just hope that infected cunt doesn't cause problems like she usually does.
But that's nothing I want to think about now. Maybe I should try to get some sleep again. Putting Luna back into her little fluffy castle of warm blankets. Sleeping is a bit difficult with her wanting attention every three hours.