“Hey, I’m here to check up on Gahn?”

  “You are not given clearance to see Admiral Gahn. Please return to your—”

  “No, no, it’s fine. Let him in. I was about to call him in, anyway.”

  Vertan looked around at Gahn’s quarters; neat, tidy, orderly, and far more spacious than his own. Immediately noticeable to him was its structure favoring functionality; much of the space had to do with a command panel for secure fleet-wide communications, planning, ship surveillance and monitoring, and other logistics. It overall appeared rather minimalistic and a bit sterile, save for some keepsakes, a few souvenirs, and smaller personal belongings. A framed picture of his family sat beside his bunk.

  “Not much of an interior designer, huh?” quips Vertan, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

  “Nah man, it’s very much the goal I aim for,” replies Gahn. “I mean to have it this way.”

  “Really? What’s the thought behind it?”

  “I prefer not to mix personal life with professional life. I would rather that I not get too comfortable out here and make poor and incompetent decisions because of it when I’m at work.”

  “But surely, you must desire a warm sanctuary away from it all?”

  “Indeed I do, and that would be my family at home. Only they are worthy of that role.”

  “Ah, well, that’s very fair enough, then.”

  A quiet moment of silence passes as Vertan continues to survey the room. Outside the wide window, he could see the fleet descending through the atmosphere, preparing to land on Coalition-aligned Qiaou.

  “So, uh, you been doing alright, man?” asks Vertan.

  “Hm?” says Gahn. “Been a bit hectic, I mean.”

  “Yeah, if you have a moment, I just wanted to let you know that I apologize for all the, uh, trouble I’ve been giving you.”

  “It’s alright man, it really is.”

  “And well, I just wanted to check in on how you were doing, handling all of it.”

  “I mean it’s a lot on my plate, but I appreciate you acknowledging it. Maybe it was a stroke of fate or something, who knows, but I know it wasn’t your fault you were saddled with that.”

  Gahn gets up from his desk and moves over to the room’s command center.

  “Alright, come over here,” says Gahn, motioning Vertan to follow him. “I need to show you a few things.”

  Nodding, Vertan followed suit. A part of him would have liked to continue the more personal side of the conversation, though it seemed that Gahn is focused on moving on towards the task at hand. It was best then to just move along with what’s on his mind. Coming up to the command center, he finds himself looking at a holographic map of Qiaou, as well as various flickering blips meant to represent their fleet and other surrounding traffic.

  “So, I’m technically not allowed to tell you a lot of the other details going on for reasons to do with security,” continues Gahn. “After all, you’re not of rank or authority around here even if I do allow you into this room. But I am obligated to at least inform you of what we’re dealing with moving forwards.”

  Zooming in closer on the map’s holographic display, Gahn focuses in on a specific landmass on Qiaou.

  “You may have noticed that we are currently descending through this world’s atmosphere as opposed to docking in orbit. We’ll be landing at the station in Aei instead, since given the information available to us, there was a terrorist incident recently at Qiaou’s orbital station. I’ve deemed it too risky to go forth with docking there, and chose Aei since it’s a bit more out of the way.”

  “I see. That’s a good choice.”

  “Furthermore, we’ll be allocated twenty-six standard hours of downtime, or a full Qiaouian day for rest and refueling. Everyone will be allowed to leave the ship and visit approved local areas should they choose to. However, I have assigned rotating shifts for guard duty for the asset.”

  “The ‘asset’? You mean Lym?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s a person, and you should probably call her by her name, you know.”

  “I know and understand that—that doesn’t change that she’s considered a dangerous and highly sensitive asset in our hands right now.”

  “Hm. Fine, then. But I will be calling her Lym.”

  “Alright so, with that out of the way, let’s talk about your situation, then.”

  “Right, sure.”

  “I will say that your position is a bit unique. Remind me how long she’s been with you?”

  “A little over three months, I believe.”

  “Right. As much as I would rather that we not, I feel compelled that I must keep you around given that you know her best. It would also be a liability for us to have you still running around out there with that knowledge anyways, so please, keep yourself out of trouble while you’re here.”

  “Come on, man,” Vertan chuckles. “We’re not kids anymore.”

  “I mean it, Vertan!” Gahn pushed. “These are very serious matters.”

  “I know, I know. Sorry, just wanted to make light of things.”

  “It’s fine, no worries. Anyhow, I need two things out of you. Firstly, since you’re most familiar with her, keep your eye on her and bring intel back to us. If my eyes didn’t deceive me the other day and you both are telling me the truth, I know that no amount of ‘security’ can actually contain her here. You will be the security keeping her in our hands. Secondly, since you’re considered an Expeditionary hero in the Coalition, I need you acting like you’re part of the operation here. We are, after all, indebted to your service and exceptional skills for being able to contain a demonic threat.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Vertan frowns for a moment, as he thinks this through. It’s just a charade. Make believe. Playing pretend. Surely, he can do that, this all makes sense, right? It’s just the steps necessary to get her home peacefully, as demanded.

  “Can you do that?” Gahn asks.

  “Yeah,” says Vertan, pulling his view back towards Gahn. “I think I can do that.”

  Smiling genuinely, Gahn pats Vertan on the shoulder.

  “I appreciate it, Vertan,” he says. “It’s good to have you on my side again. Don’t you worry, it’ll be over soon enough.”

  As Vertan later leaves Gahn’s quarters, he couldn’t help but internally seethe at himself. He despised the disgusting idea of posturing himself as a “hero” of the Coalition.

  *****

  Vertan found, to his surprise, that Qiaou is in fact relatively peaceful. Or at least, the region they landed in. News of the terrorist attack earlier that day spread with great fervor through public discourse there, and it was theorized that the motives were to sabotage the arrival of something specific. Vertan quietly wondered if that was meant for them. Thankfully, casualties were minimal in number with no fatalities.

  The nightlife in this city is lively. In the distance at the station, looms the ships of Gahn’s fleet, as they are being serviced. Every now and then, Vertan would see some of Gahn’s men going about, enjoying the different areas of recreation the city had to offer, whether at bars, clubs, or occasionally in the sketchier and more secretive parts, the illegal brothels and red light districts. Vertan seldom visited any establishment however, and only sought to walk around briefly after spending so much time back on the ship.

  Internally, Vertan swore that he heard quiet, whispering rumors circulating throughout the population. As he drank at a bar’s table, news of recent major events making its way across the Myriad Worlds played alongside widely varying headlines, each with their own agendas. Words of “the legendary Zviedal” and his now inflated reputation in having captured a “live demon” could be heard uttered amongst the patrons in the bar, who have no idea that he is sitting amongst them.

  It was in the sun’s rising hours as these thoughts ruminated in Vertan’s mind on his way back to the ships. There are still several hours left ahead of them before departing Qiaou in the late afternoon of the same day, and some of Gahn’s troops have already begun to make their way back as well.

  Scanning in and passing through the gates of the station, Vertan could see a growing number of protesters just outside of the makeshift barriers set up on the street across. Armed Coalition peacekeepers are just beginning to arrive at the scene. It was at first easy to assume that the locals were not happy of having to be redirected towards other, often more distant stations, to accommodate Gahn’s fleet. However, upon closer inspection, Vertan could see that the Qiaouians’ grievances had to do with something much greater.

  The people seemed oddly organized and civilized in contrast to popular perception.

  “Hm, I see,” says Lym in response to Vertan telling her about his brief excursion.

  “What do you make of it?” Vertan asks, sitting on a metal stool across from her in the chamber. Those holding guard duty outside occasionally sneak nervous glances in, speechless of his bravery to be in there with her.

  “It’s something that I’m beginning to grasp,” she replies. Her eyes mechanically flicked up to look at him. “Though the concept of this hasn't existed to us before.”

  “What do you mean? Elaborate.”

  “You said it yourself that nobody out here knows who we are, right?”

  “Nobody knows the Happians exist.”

  “They may be beginning to.”

  “That concept has never existed to your people before?”

  “Not that. But rather, that our existence can be for something other than war.”

  Taken aback by this, Vertan blinks astoundedly.

  “Woah, what?” he asks. “What do you mean by that? Do your people really not do anything outside of fighting?”

  “No,” she responds pragmatically.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am. There may have been a time long ago that we did. We preserve those memories for conservation purposes.”

  “You don’t write? Sing? Dance? Paint?”

  “Only when it’s useful and necessary.”

  “What do you do at all, then?”

  “Fight.”

  “For what?”

  “For our survival. I’ve told you about this.”

  “No, I know that. What do you fight for beyond that?”

  To his surprise, Lym remained silent at this. He could feel her thinking as her mechanical eye shifted and clicked.

  “To endure,” she finally says. “To persevere.”

  “For what?” Vertan asks.

  “What?” responds Lym.

  “God damn it, Lym!” Vertan exclaims. “Do you people have any hope at all? Are you just going to keep enduring and persevering through this forever? You talked to me about changing things the other day, but now I’m hearing that you don’t even know what to do when it comes? What’s the goal? What are you going to do after that?”

  “I…” Lym trailed off. “I don’t know.”

  Vertan sat in stunned silence for a moment.

  “Really? You don’t know? What was all that then, protecting those protestors, helping my mother around the house with her chores?”

  “It was my way of fighting for them.”

  “So what do the Happians do for the Happians? What do you do for you?”

  “We don’t have the practical time or space to do that. We must endure and persevere.”

  “If you did have the time and space like we do here, then. What would you choose to do?”

  “In a purely hypothetical scenario?”

  “Yes, whatever. What would you choose to do?”

  “I…”

  A brief eternity.

  “I would choose…to be kind.”

  “Well. That’s at least a start, isn’t it? Wouldn’t you say that’s a part of who you are as a person? Can’t you say that maybe that’s what you did for those protestors, and the small things you did for my mother? You chose kindness, didn’t you?”

  “I chose politeness. And I wanted to protect that beauty, Vertan.”

  “Then you can say that you are protecting it so that it can be something for you to enjoy too, right?”

  “...”

  “...Right?”

  “We don’t last this long for no reason. One of the pillars anchoring down the agency and identity we have left is our suffering. It allows things to make sense for us.”

  “And if you don’t suffer?”

  “Then it doesn’t count or make sense.”

  “I don’t get it, just yesterday you were telling me about roses and thorns. You really want to be remembered for the thorns?”

  “No, of course not. But that doesn’t change the fact that our circumstances dictate we grow thorns. It is how it is.”

  “Then, what is the point and goal in the end? What is all this fighting for if you don’t get to stop suffering? Is that where this is now, just to keep fighting in perpetuity?”

  “The suffering is what tells us that we are real and proves our validity as such. That we are here.”

  “But Lym. Your meaning and worth shouldn’t have to be proven through something like that.”

  Outside the ship, across the station, across the nearby streets, an explosion rocks the morning stillness, killing and injuring multiple protesters and peacekeepers.