A long time ago. Or at least, in my perspective.

The engines needs some work. Minor damage caused by excessive use. I have only myself to blame for that.

I can’t go into battle with an engine like that. Not when it can break down at any moment. I need a replacement. Could be the time for an upgrade. I should have enough credits. But it also means I have to temporarily put some projects on pause. That’s fine. Can work with that.

Hmm, what next? I go through my mental checklist. Nothing left to do other than work on the schematics of my new engine.

I close my eyes and sit back, listening to the dull roar of my ship. Everything else fades away.

For a small second, I ponder over the feelings I get when I’m like this. It’s… I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Little bits and pieces, working in perfect synchrony, all clicking together. Just to move a big lump of metal. Complex lump of metal, I know.

Slowly, I sink into a familiar trance.

I start with the materials, starting with energy channels, then make the design spread outward, making hundreds of tiny changes as I use my implant to do the calculations, then focus on the…

An hour later, the design is complete. Theoretically, it should work just fine, but I don’t take chances. I connect to the ship’s processor, using it to run simulations. I sit back, my eyes feeling strained despite me not using them for the past hour.

Three hours past midnight, the simulations are done. A couple of small mistakes here and there, easy to fix, but would’ve been fatal had I not found them.

Another round of simulations later, and the engine design is done.

I yawn.

It’s now dawn. There are implants to remove the requirement of sleep, and I have one, but I only use it in case of emergencies. It’s no good to strain your mind like that, even if your body could take it.

Currently, though, I’m tempted, but then I decide against it, and go to my cabin where I sleep for a good six hours.

Six hours, I feel, is not enough. Nevertheless, I force myself to get up, make some tea, and then set about my day.

First thing I do is survey my ship, checking for any small trips, or irregularities. The habit had started because once I had been attacked in bed, and then my attacker had been kind enough to provide me the details of how he got in, and all the small details that anyone in their right mind would never have noticed, then mocked me for not having noticed them. After I had eliminated him, with the help of some obvious traps, which I had gloated to him about in turn, I started to check for those small details every morning.

Today is like every other normal day. All safe.

Next, assess the ship’s condition. I connect to the ship’s systems, go through the feeds, and then go over it again. Nothing except the normal.

All check. Now, time to move out.

I put on my stealth armor. It fits in right beneath my clothes. My skull’s enhanced since a long time ago, so I don’t have to worry about headshots.

I’m a bit over prepared, I know. I’m just going to run an errand.

Usually, most captains wouldn’t have to run errands, as they have people doing it for them. I, however, am literally a one-man crew, and I have to do things like this personally. It takes a bite out of my time, but I didn’t really mind. I don’t want to be cooped up in my ship for too long. It brings up some unpleasant memories.

I leave the ship, go through the outskirts of the space station before then reaching the center.

The outskirts are mostly tunnels, hangers, maintenance, and cargo. The center is a large hollowed out grey sphere, with buildings on the inside. It makes for places to socialize, buy and trade. The space station is’nt made for permanent residence unless you work in it. It is somewhat similar to a pit stop for space travelers.

I go to a familiar rhombus shaped building, the security systems instantly recognizing my tag. In the dim room, behind a counter, stands a man that likes to show off his cybernetics.

Half of his face is green metal. His eyes are glowing blue orbs.

Larry’s a man who specializes in customized ship parts, and he’s the best at his job. He’s the one I trust with the construction of anything I require, as a captain. He’s also very passionate at his job.

Currently, he seems to be discussing various propulsion systems with two new customers. I could tell they’re new by how unfamiliar they seem with the place.

Larry glances at me, and I could’ve sworn I saw a glint flash through those eyes, had he not looked back at his customers. One of the customers, a young man, looks at me, decides I’m unworthy of his attention and turns back to Larry.

I stand patiently, not wanting to interrupt. I myself know how irritating that can be.

Once they are done, Larry turns to me, and asks,

“Is it something new?”

I grin.

“An entirely new engine.”

He gasps.

“You’re kidding me. Right?”

I shake my head.

“I’ve already sent you the schemes. Try to finish the job before the end of the week. I’ll send you the money upon delivery.”

He nods and is already accessing the schemes I send him before I’m done with my sentence. I see his eyes widening and take it as my cue to leave.

On my way out though, I stop as I run into a woman. I start to apologize, but then I catch sight of her face, and am stunned. I barely notice the two white wings as I stare into her eyes.

She smiles, and it sends shivers down my spine.

She leans forward and whispers into my ear. My eyes widen, and I snap my head towards where she was standing, only to discover an empty spot. Nearby people are looking at me strangely. I ignore their gazes and hurry out of the place.

The Present

That was the first time I saw her, four years ago. I’ve always taken her to be a figment of my imagination since the words she spoke to me on that day are horrifying.

I had doubted my sanity then. She hadn’t returned till a year later, and so I had lived my life in blissful ignorance until.

She’s been visiting me ever since, with increasing frequency.

I think of her as a figment of my imagination because I don’t know how else to define her. No one else seems to see her.

But the truth in her words does not agree with that theory. She’s given me information I don’t know but can easily prove. No figment of my imagination would know things I don’t.

But until I find out what she is, I’ll keep thinking of her as a figment of my imagination. She’s a puzzle I’ve been trying to solve for the past four years, and have gotten nowhere with.

Nowadays she pops up every week or so. But rarely does she have new information. She usually just lurks around me, creepily. I ignore her each time, and I’ve gotten better at it. If she wants to tell me something, she would’ve already done it.

I turn back to the man, who seems to be both intrigued and disappointed at the same time. I try to decipher his thoughts, and then immediately give up as I know how irritating it can be to figure out the minds of certain people. This man, I’m sure, is one of them.

Behind him, a group of pirates enters the scene. In the corner of my eye, I notice that the woman has stopped writhing, and is unconscious. I’d have thought she was dead if not for the weak rising and falling of her chest. The fact she’s still alive meant she had much better implants than I had originally thought.

The group of pirates has submissive postures.

I frown.

Looks like these three are pretty important.

I screwed up bad, hadn’t I?

Pirates can get really nasty. Messing with the ones on top is not a wise decision if you want to live. I have to get a message out now, while I still have the chance.

I activate my tag, the one I use… for most of my illegal activities. I had used to like playing cat and mouse with the Sentinels. So while I’ve been inactive for the past two years, the beacon I just sent out should be enough prompting for them to get their asses over here ASAP.

Normally, it's illegal to own two tags, and stupid too, since any decent scanner could pick up their presence. But, I had my second tag worked into the frameworks of my neural implant, indistinguishable. Not that that makes it legal.

The broad-faced man from before rushes over to the woman’s side, glaring at me. He then picks her up and runs past the group.

The group has armor that’s made from pieces of other armor, oddly intimidating, if you don’t know it’s meant exactly for that. Also to not waste resources, because, as they say, one man’s junk is another man’s treasure.

Their armor might be made out of junk, but I myself know how deadly it can be. I used to be one of the people who made that exact type of armor. Not by choice, though.

So, I know I’m no match for them. And there isn’t any place to escape to, either. I’m cornered, and I know it. So do they.

Their weapons are pointed at me in a way that suggests they’re expecting me to lash out like a wild animal. I, myself, know how stupid that is. I would die within seconds. And that’s if they’re in a particularly good mood.

So, I get to my knees, my hands up in surrender. My head bent, I do my best to conceal the smile beneath.