Embedded Files
"Emergency shuttle has been docked to the station," The system announces. Shortly after, the space station's crew poured in.
Sverre and Nilda stepped in and took their seats. After buckling up, they conversed in Balkan:
"Well, off to another station," Sverre remarks.
"Yeah, it was a good shift," Nilda flutters and shifts her gaze a bit to Sverre, saying:
"You know… you really didn't have to come if you'd want to."
"Aye, but I would not rest soundly if I left you. I know, I know, you're capable of going to the escape shuttle… yet slowly. I didn't really mind; I'm telling you," Sverre sincerely said.
Nilda smiles and scoots near to Sverre.
"I was really expecting my fellow comrades back at the year '50, or at least someone who had participated in the great Balkan war," Sverre paused.
"But having your company is much better" He beamed a bit, having to flash a small smile on his face.
Nilda smiles, leans on Sverre's shoulder and says: "I'm really, really glad. Being blind is not that easy, and I could say the same. Thank you, Sverre."
Infinite space and numerous space debris float whilst the space shuttle jump to another space sector.
MONTHS LATER
A man in a formal suit barges in. It was the Psychologist, brisk walking towards Sverre. He flips through his tablet, scrolling and skimming through notes pertaining to the severe side-effects of the prescription pills given to Sverre. The Psychologist frowns, furrows his brows a bit, and puts his tablet aside, being rather straightforward to Sverre.
"Sverre… you do realize that the Ignitrasen system does not accept any crew member that is deemed… a liability" He pauses.
"I am helping you the best I can, and I'm, in fact, like you before. You seemed a bit down because she flew off to another nebula, and I got it" The Psychologist was interjected with Sverre disapproving the Psychologist's words, throwing his hand down while he grunts.
"Sverre, please listen, the medicine is making your metaphysical health deteriorating! It's doing you more harm than good. That's why you're here again! Only this time, you were escorted by security, and boy, oh boy, you're lucky that they aren't as fascistic as before," The psychologist lectures candidly.
"Please, Sverre. Your mind, your attitude, we need to take this step-by-step. Lorazepam is doing more harm than good. You're even slurring and not even using your words properly," The Psychologist pleads.
Sverre stands up from the medical counter and grunts when he lands on his feet. The leather shoes he has clapped against the sterile floor.
In a thick Balkan accent, he slurs: "I'em f'aene! Da r' eason why I was h'eer was because a stin'king ma'n woul'd not shut up about music, yes?"
"That's why we have to work on your patience. Do you think I don't give a damn about you or the crew? I'm here to listen to your woes, and I did for many months! And now that you're near your breaking point, I just want you to let me help you!" He exclaimed his pleas.
Sverre scoffs at the Psychologist's attempt to help.
"S'ome k' aend of Psychologist you are" He pauses as he glances at the Psychologist, from head to toe.
"Doctor Wegener," He greets as he flashed a weak smile before leaving the office.
Dr. Wegener frowns and grabs Sverre passively.
"I want to help you, Sverre. I really do. You better not walk your way out of this again," He pleads weakly. Sverre breaks passively from Wegener's grip and frankly said:
"Or what? Ah?" Exchanging glances from one another. Sverre timidly turns around, dusts his gloves, and his flat cap before heading off.
He stood outside the office and to the medical bay, only to observe the sterile plating done on the floor, a couple of machines adjacent to each department, rods of fluorescent light attached to the ceilings, and sterile synthamide walls that cover the bay's interior. The hall wasn't exactly busy, only spotting the virologist walking around and about, fetching vials and other things. It was tranquil, rather weird considering the space station's predicaments are inevitable.
There he was, Sverre Podimtzev. A Balkan man from the native planet of Earth, in galaxy Sol. He was born in the Balkan lands' eastern regions, having to live through an era of blood and muck. At the age of 15, he joined the resistance against the Imperial rule, fighting for the sake of eradicating a fascistic rule over the Balkan lands. During his last few years in the war, he was severely injured after being blown up by a tank's turret, costing him his left arm; despite his critical health, he was able to blow the tank up using an anti-tank grenade, severely ruining the fascist's attempt of invasion over the trenches. He never did have a peaceful life, and he longs for the day he would get peace.
One fateful day, he slipped through the borders after a peacekeeping organization held a ceasefire agreement. Long story short, he got to the colonial lands and heard about the space program being held by the united union; in the consecutive years ahead, we have another Balkan man – in his early twenties – under Ignitrasen Systems, working as a cargo technician.
After being laid out for a while, he usually loiters around the secluded bar or around the library, where Nilda used to hangout. Only his foggy memory could remember the reason why he got himself detained again. It was a blur for him, being in the hull of the ship, just making his way through the hulls to cut his walks short, and all of a sudden, he woke up beaten and in zip ties, caught by security.
"Eh… guess that's where I start all over again," He mutters as he stands before the east wing.
The east wing connects to departure and to the central command. The walls were decorated with ornamental plants, digital billboards, and neatly plated plasteel. The corridors were always busy, having people go from beelines or going in one direction; there were also loiterers around the vending machines, having a couple of groups to loosen up a bit.
Despite the risk he put himself into, he went in once more to the ship's hull, but this time, he makes his way through the cramped hull and to the secluded bar.
A hissing sound occurs when the airlock opens, then revealing the interior of the secluded bar. Despite the lack of maintenance, the room seemed less pungent. The interior lacks any painting or wallpaper, and instead, welded metal walls could be observed; there were vacant wooden tables, a couple of vintage posters, and a couple of trash strewn around the floor. The only thing that makes it lively would be the Christmas lights hanging over the walls, and nothing more. There were a couple of patrons sitting idly while the bar counter was vacant.
Sverre grunts a little as he takes his seat. He dusts off his cap and gloves before placing it over the bar counter. He sits and stares idly before checking himself out, having to test out his prosthetic limb by flexing and protracting his left robot hand. He clears his throat before pulling out his mini synthesizer to play classical music to soothe his nerves.
It was difficult for him to learn new skills in his early youth. Only in his years in the colonial lands made him proficient in performing musical arts. From those years prior, he only learned two of Chopin's opus. It was but a sublime feeling to him whenever he played the works of Chopin. Despite the symphony, he couldn't help to feel a thorn in him that reminds him of Nilda. He played it all throughout, with the exception around the library's premise or the halls when he guides Nilda around the space station. Now that she's gone, it felt somewhat eerie for him; it somehow pains him to play the only music he knew. It wasn't long before he raised his beats and played faster until he made a mistake.
He hits the notes wrong, about two or three times, before stopping. His chest tightened a bit while he felt fuzzy, he felt like he was going deaf, and the only thing he could do is to stare at his robot forearm and hand.
He snaps out of it when he feels a playful pat on his shoulder.
"Ayyyeeeee!" His friend 'Lester' beams.
Lester is just like any other assistant around the space station, having to spend a lot of time in the botany bay and seldom in the medical bay. The two met each other when overgrown spiders broke loose near the research bay. The research bay was somewhat close to the medical bay, and during that time, Sverre happened to be delivering a crate supply for the medical bay. He spots Lester being lunged by a spider; Sverre took his tool belt, took a wrench, and smacked the overgrown spider upwards, knocking the spider off Lester. He finished the spider off using an emergency welding tool, pinning the spider and burning its skull.
"…F[redacted]!!" Lester cries out.
Sverre frankly made Lester stand up and checked on him for any more injuries. He placed his hand over Lester's arm, and in a Balkan accent, he says: "Eh… want to go to the secluded bar? This shift is derm' o."
Lester stutters: "B-but your… your work..!"
"Eh, medical could wait. Come on, kvass a'en whiskiye is on me," He prompts Lester before dropping the small portable welder on the ground.
From there on out, they became good friends, despite being deprived of their time to hang out with each other due to their hectic schedules. It was only at this time that Lester met Sverre, weeks after they had last hung out with each other.
Sverre jumps a bit after Lester's surprising greet.
"Nyu debil!" Sverre cries out.
Lester moves over Sverre's sight, flashing a dirt-eating grin. Sverre felt slightly annoyed for bothering him like that, but that feeling would fleet off immediately after feeling a bit of comfort from Lester's company; seeing his anthropomorphic friend, he did not see any changes besides his lack of fur trim.
"Seems like the piano man is off catching tails if you know what I mean, wink wink, nudge, nudge" Lester jests as he chuckles. Sverre responds to this frankly:
"Nu… I have been laid off b-because of wh-what, what I hav'e done."
"Geez, brudda, what were you in for this time?" Lester queries.
"My memory e' ae, not real-really good, yes? But eh… I do not like the depart' mental head of cargo bay anyways," Sverre stammers.
"Eh? You beat your boss or someone else there? Damn, might have been an as[redacted]" Lester remarks.
"N-no, th'aere was misunderst-misunderstanding, no? So… I dunno, I am here to drink, play mu'zsic and" Sverre explains but was interjected by Lester's cries:
"Find peace, yeah, yeah, y—would you just stop moping? You're missing out on life because you missed some nocturnal moth chick you've only met for weeks!"
Lester sighs and pities his good friend and places both of his arms on Sverre's shoulder.
"Look, buddy ol' chum, we gotta distract you from this. Being basically glued to one another, I want you to return to your laid-back lifestyle, eh? How's about we drink first…" Lester pauses as he thinks of something else.
"Er… uh, no, scratch that; we'll go to the head of personnel and get you a job at the civic-engie' bay, do others and have our own fills, spit on Lucas – yeah ahahah – spit on him, help the central command with the conditions of their departments, and then..! We'll empty the break room's booze cabinet and end the day wasted, how does that sound?" Lester proposes.
Sverre was trying to digest what he could and could only buffer: "Eyuuuuh…" before Lester grabs him on his arm and lifts him up on his feet.
"Great! Let's get a move on!" Lester beams as they trail off.
The hulls were damp and lacked proper ventilation, oil and sewage drip from the pipes attached to the ceilings; it was deprived of any ray of light, and the only thing that shines through would be the two's torches as they go through.
"Man, Mr. Janitor should really consider fixing the lights real soon. It's kin'na dark around," Lester blabbers.
"Influxes. Must be the solar pulses again," Sverre remarks
"We just had that hours ago. I kin'na suspect the new crew being responsible for this; gee, such stinkers, aye?" Lester responds.
"Yes, hopefully, nothing else," Sverre agrees frankly.
The airlocks shut behind them as they went out. They have dragged their conversation on the southern wing, just near cargo bay, central command's communications, and the head of the personnel's department.
"You know, like Xenos. Those aliens that rip your body's important stuff an' lay eggs on you," Lester explains.
"The, the sect' or already cleared of uhhh, xenomorphs. We must be in L'iaar sector to uh, to uh, have xenomorphs in the station," Sverre stammers.
"Eh, yeah… or OR! Infiltrators, again!" Lester exclaims while he raises his forearm upwards. They soon got to the queue, and nobody else was there. The queue was rather far from comforting, having metal grills and reinforced windows cover the line.
"Alright, alright! Stay cool!" Lester prompts Sverre before he drags him in front of the head of the personnel's desk itself. Lester nudged Sverre and made him spoke:
"Ay, eugh, aye… hk' ello, H.O.P.! Good afternoon!" Sverre stutters as he greets.
"Afternoon, crew! How are you, Podimtzev?" The head of personnel greets Sverre.
Lester chimes in to help out Sverre with his transfer:
"Ayee, Sverre! Off to a great start, with the chief knowing who you are"
"Mhm, for rather unflattering reasons, yes?" The head of personnel frankly says as she pulls up the records from her console.
"Two counts of infractions, verbal abuse, not in the rules but he sure spits a lot, as well as numerous records in the psychiatric ward," She prompts and puts in a sincere tone.
"Sverre, I'm not telling these to remind you of your poor behavior at times of work, but I'm reminding you to consider other's welfare by healing, trying to fix yourself in any way possible. We tend to maintain quality around the workplace, and you still seem unfit to be filled into any occupation as of the moment," she pauses once more.
"Sverre, we all wanted to help you with this. There's no shame in asking us for help. For me, I get that your pain is far different from what every crew has endured – and nothing, nobody should invalidate that – but we don't want you to end up being more destructive." She advises.
Before anything else, Sverre weakly just stepped out of the queue, with the sensors picking his presence and opening the airlock before him. Lester immediately follows up and tries to give good words for Sverre.
Lester was conversing with Sverre as they walked through the hallways.
"The hulls are killing me. It seems that it's always making these loud banging noises; damn newbie crew, always making a mess for Jannie!" He cries out before he goes ahead of Sverre.
"Man, dude, they're missing out. Don't they realize that they're denying a good mechanic like you?" Lester cries out as he puts his arms wide up and then puts it at ease when they soon stopped walking.
"Sverre, I'm telling you, you should try again" He pauses as he averts his gaze before snapping his finger.
"How about we both go for custodial and ransack the Janitor's storeroom, eh? Also, spit on Lucas, ahahah! Also occupying yourself, forget everything that has happened, and we drink until we smash the tables, whaddayasay?" He beams.
Sverre sighs and puts Lester's forearm down before shaking his head slowly.
"Y'uo have work… I hk' ave t-time. I'll, I-I'll think about this… I will see y' ou, please take care…" He hoarsely said.
Lester acts a little aloof, knowing that there's not much else he could do and the fact that he will be needed in botany bay soon. He pulls out his tablet and checks his schedule, only to feel more helpless when he finds out that he is required in botany bay.
Lester pats Sverre on the shoulder before hugging him. Sverre seemed a bit more annoyed than to feel comfortable being hugged like that, yet, he sighs to Lester's hug instead.
"Please be okay, brudda. And so we'll hang out at the secluded bar after, aye?" Lester timidly expresses.
"Aye, do not be much cling' ee, though," Sverre responds.
"Good good" He pats Sverre's back before breaking off. He jogs off to the eastern wing and to botany bay, leaving Sverre just standing idly. Sverre walks back and forth before standing idly and aloof once more. After a while, he decides to go to the library instead.
A monastery erects before the library. Sverre just has to go through the hallways leading to the monastery, the monastery hallway itself, before reaching the main library.
Space. Reinforced glass separates the crew from space, just a thin barrier in between. From there, Sverre averts his gaze towards the stars and beyond, seeing space debris, planets light-years away, the sector's sun, and the universe's infinite stars and nebulas. Sverre took a second to appreciate the display, appreciating the fortunes that brought him here in the first place. He felt a slight relief despite his depressive nature. The pain drowns him once more, slightly losing sanity as he hears the faint voice of Nilda, haunting him. He closes his eyes and clenches his prosthetic limb. Before he could harm himself more, he shifts his heels and decides to head to the library once more, near to his hundredth visit during the past few months.
Soon, he reaches the monastery's façade, having memories rush in like a torrent. The very faint voice resonates before him, hindering him from his movement. He shakes his head before entering the monastery.
Lights that illuminate the place are dim, with lit candles and chandeliers being the only light source. During that time, no chaplain was handling the place, the organ wasn't manned, no tributes on the altar.
An old memory surfaced when he walked across the pews, having to remember his deep faith in his savior. Slavic orthodoxy, an ancient religion, originated in the native lands of humankind. He remembers a passage that the priest orated, wise about signs of danger and how fortitude is vital to a person.
A hiss from the airlock breaks the silence after it closes behind Sverre.
A garden stands before the center of the monastery's backrooms, its halls. Sverre gives a good look over nature, reminding him of the better days. He smiles, having to get a glimpse of beetles and blooming flowers once more, before reaching the library's front.
The airlock opens before him, he goes in, and it closes before him.
There it was, the library. Long rods of fluorescent lights illuminate the place, while other corners of the library were lit with candles, safe behind glass covers.
Sverre walks near the reinforced glass that separates him from the exterior, from space. He removes his cap and gloves before he takes a chair and takes a seat. He contemplates the fortunes and predicaments he got himself into, being grateful the very least for persisting to this very day. He sighs to this.
"I just… don't know why," He thinks.
He sits, clasped his hands, and hangs his head down.
It eats him. The thoughts of loneliness, predicaments, and missed opportunities festers his psyche, blaming it all on his own follies. He started to feel like he was going numb, hearing distorted electrical equipment and instruments play as he goes deaf, being consumed by his poor sanity.
An alarm went off
"Red alert!" The system exclaimed, having the L.E.D. Television open by force to announce the sudden dire condition of the station.
It explained that allegedly, infiltrators were sabotaging the station, and on the other hand, would be unconfirmed sightings of alien lifeforms.
It wasn't long before the head of security announced that a curfew is in effect, urging non-working crew to stay in the dormitories until the level of danger goes down.
Sverre was familiar with this and gave no worries about it. He dusts his cap and gloves off before heading off. Before he leaves, he murmurs:
"It-it's just infiltrators, I'll g' aet b'ack tou you," and then the airlock closes after him.
Back to the transparent hallways, he went, taking a short glance to the infinite universe before him and looking back to where he's going.
A few meters away from him, he notices the fire alarm's flashing lights and the airlocks connecting to the main wing. The airlock was blocked by a firelock, blocking Sverre's way.
"K chort..!" He mutters in Balkan before reaching for his rucksack. He pulls an emergency welding kit and welding goggles from his rucksack, having to keep these despite rules and regulations.
He cuts through the firelock. He tries looking for something to wedge against the firelock to open it. He goes back and forth around the hallway until he spots a couple of rebars leaning in the corner of the hallway. He forcefully opened the lock and made the airlock open before him. A small opening stands before him, and so he squeezes through in between. A thud follows after Sverre drops flat on the floor.
He grunts and tries to regain his composure. Sverre looked up and saw utter chaos.
The main wing was bombed near to oblivion, with decorations, electronics, blood, tar, alien blood strewn against the floor while black smoke topples a couple of pockets of space.
"Nu…" Sverre blurts out before standing up. He quickly rustled through his rucksack and took his wrench. He went on alert, making his way as the background soon fills in with sounds of gunfire, bellows, screams of pain and anger, and alien hisses.
Alien hisses. It turns out Lester was right about his other suspicion of Xenomorphs attacking the station. Tearing through security personnel in other corners of the main wing.
Sverre walks over residues and corpses of the crew to make his way through the hull's entrance. Before he could reach the entrance, he spots a battle mech fighting a Xenomorph off it. An engineer was desperately trying to break from the Xenomorph's grip.
Before anything else, an armored security guard grabs its riot shotgun and blasts the Xenomorph with slug rounds. The Xenomorph lets go of the battle mech, dragging a chunk of the mech's leg along with the fall. The mech's leg was severely damaged, causing the Engineer to hop off and fight on foot.
A moment later, it recognizes Sverre, screaming over him:
"Podimtzev! Cargo, right!? F[redacted]!! Help me out with this!"
He accesses the mech's metal inventory for spare parts, but before he could fix the mech, a Xenomorph was going straight after him.
A security guard in S.W.A.T. gear notices this and attempts to block the Engineer from being lunged at. He succeeds a bit, with the Xenomorph's left arm grabbing hold of the Engineer.
Sverre looks idly, buffering on what he must do. Memories and stimuli rush in like a torrent, closing his eyes before he opens his eyes once more. He rushes into the fray.
He slides across the floor, accessing the mech's inventory. He assesses the mech's damage as sharp, identifying what the problem was. He quickly grabs a spare hydraulic tube and replaces the damaged tubes that connect to the leg and to the main machinery. He does all of this while the chaos unfolds before him.
BOOM!
A blast from an infiltrator's bomb went off. Sverre falls flat on his back, damaging his upper limbs, and receiving a concussion from the blast. His ears bled and rang, leaving him helpless on the ground.
More terrible memories flow in, resonating onto him like a boiling wave. The traumatic experiences he endured in the Balkan war haunts him the most, having to compare his situation right now, being down on the floor flat as to his experience during the trench warfare in the Balkan lands. Those memories flash before him, with a short ray of light in between. In frames, he remembers the comfort he felt with Nilda, seeing her in the monastery's garden with light shining before her. It mixes with the traumatic memories before his good memories overwhelm the bad ones, seeing more of his crewmates in the cargo bay, his other friends, Lester, and Nilda. With great willpower, he momentarily gains back control over himself.
Sverre furrows his eyebrows while grinding his teeth, trying to regain composure.
"Hnngggaaaaghh… Haaaghhh….!!" He bellows before flipping himself over and dragging himself to the battle mech. He grunts a lot, adrenaline rushes into his system while he fixes the battle mech. After quickly tightening the tubes, he wields the leg's interior before fixing it.
"I GOT IT!!" He shouts before he is tackled by a Xenomorph.
Right before him was a bipedal alien, covered with thick chitin that protects its skin, an elongated head, and a spiky tail that sticks out from its rear-end.
The Xenomorph digs its claws in Sverre's torso and stabs him with its tail.
Sverre bellows from the excruciating pain that he received, screaming in agony. The Xenomorph retracts its tail, making Sverre spill out more blood.
Before the Xenomorph could do any more harm, its neck was choked by the battle mech and was thrown away from Sverre. The Engineer removed the Xenomorph off Sverre and yelled for security's help for Sverre's critical health.
But before anything else, the Engineer turned before the direction leading to the east wing and saw the malignant queen Xenomorph.
The queen Xenomorph bellows, and so did the Engineer:
"BRING IT ON!!" The Engineer bellows as it prepares in a defensive stance.
The queen Xenomorph lunges over the battle mech and tries knocking it down. The Engineer was struggling to put the queen down, engaging in a huge wrestle.
On the other hand, Sverre had his wind knocked off from him, struggling to breathe. He grunts in pain while struggling to stay alive. He fishes through his coat and takes an emergency epinephrine stim on him, provided by the medical bay. He stabs himself with this and gives him more awareness.
In a split second, he spots a Xenomorph crouching stealthily before the battle mech, making its way to attack the mech from the rear.
Sverre grunts as he struggles to grab some more contraband stored in his rucksack. He pulls out a Molotov cocktail, stuffed a cloth in the bottle, turning it over, then turn it right-side-up, and struggles to make his lighter go off. There it was, a tiny flame opens before him, lighting the cloth that acts as a fuse. It lights up before Sverre.
With a Molotov in Sverre's severely damaged robot limb, he stood and calls the crouching Xenomorph out:
"HOI!!" Then the Xenomorph turns and hisses at Sverre.
"Vot tebya Belgradovo!" Sverre yells in Balkan as he stands up, turns his heels, and throws the Molotov over the Xenomorph, causing it to catch on fire.
The Xenomorph bellows from pain, panicking from being on fire. It thrashes around before it tackles Sverre. It opens its mouth, revealing its inner jaw.
Before Sverre could get bitten, the same bulky security guard tackles the burning Xenomorph, and this time hits it with a fire extinguisher. Before the guard finally gets a good hold of the Xenomorph, the two wrestle one another, unsheathing his bayonet and stabbing the Xenomorph to death.
The security guard, too, sustained severe injuries, lying flat on the floor from pain and exhaustion. Sverre crawls over the security guard and stabs it with his epinephrine stim before he drags the security off the fray and into a vacant corridor whilst crouching.
Sverre exhales and coughs when they get to relative safety. After a while, he gets back to work, rustling through his rucksack once more to grab bandages to patch the security guard of its injuries.
Sverre's hands shake heavily while he pulls the bandages off his rucksack. He was spitting out blood, trying to help the security guard. It was agonizing for him; he was grunting uncomfortably.
He fishes through his coat once more to grab more stims, only to realize he ran out of stims. He stares idly while he spews out blood.
He drags himself and leans against the corridor wall slowly.
He then slowly drifts from the pain he endured and all of the dangers he put himself into for the sake of others. Many would prefer being less reckless whenever help is being received, but that was the only best thing that Sverre could do to his fellow crew in constant torment by his own psyche.
Sublime, bittersweet, and positive memories rush in Sverre for the last time, seeing Nilda in his good memories, seeing her for the last time.
He lets out his final words and says it without stuttering yet was slightly hoarse:
"Nilda… I'm glad… that I've met you this way…"
As Sverre closes his eyes, the battle against Xenomorphs and infiltrators slowly dies down, along with Sverre's consciousness. He doesn't know if it was just his hearing or if the battle had already ended, but he had little concern for it now. He drifts without any worries or worries left in him. He does not concern about the outcome either.
Sverre exhales.
The Engineer in the battle mech killed the queen, cheering on the general communications of his accomplishment. His glorious moment passed after feeling something ominous, something he couldn't describe. He hops off the mech and assesses the damage, and from there, he spots Sverre. He stares over Sverre and the critically injured security guard, slowly approaching Sverre.
"Podimtzev...?" The Engineer blurts out.
End
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