The Burdens of Waking Up

[StarKitten]

              â?oWake up.â?

              The words echoed in her head as she stirred on her cot, shifting to one side.

 

              â?oWake up.â?

 

              Again, she tossed in her bed, this time to the other side, readjusting her pillow to the other side of her face, like somehow better covering her ears would prevent the sound from reaching her brain, giving her one last moment of peace andâ?¦

 

              â?oWake up.â?

 

              Her eyes popped open. The voice ceased as well, and she was left, staring at the rusted dark metal over her bed. Letting out a slight groan, she shifted on her side, grabbing the edge of the cot with her hand and slowly swinging her legs over the side as well. Oneâ?¦ then the other, each a slightly painful move as she begin to rouse her body to the same awakened state her mind was in.

 

              â?oAnother day in paradise begins,â? she thought to herself as she sat upright, swinging her head unconsciously to avoid the cot above hers, and plopping her head down in her hands, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. With the tinge of numbness slowly fading, she flexed her extremities, stretching and wriggling her toes, trying to imbue them with some form of life, letting the tingle slowly fall out to the floor.

 

              With a cautious step, her foot touched cold metal floor, sending another awakening jolt through her, sparking her nerves and tensing her skin to the air. Standing up and stretch, bringing life back to what was left of her body, she looked into the mirror across the room, looking at her tired face, her unkempt hair, the dirt seeping its way into every pore of her skin, and letting out a deep sigh.

 

              â?oNo time to complain,â? she thought to herself. â?oWeâ?Tve got a ship to run.â?

[StarKitten]

The day started off relatively routine for Catherine, checking over the essential ship systems, making sure that another day would pass by without excitement. This routine had been in place, without deviation, for over a year now. Since her self-imposed exile from contact with other humans, freed or otherwise, Catherine had done what was necessary to stay alive, but little else. Her ship, her liferaft in the darkness, had been bound for decommissioning years ago. Fortunately for both the ship and Cat, she had been able to piece enough parts together to get the ship running again, and together, they had fled into the abandoned tunnels under the world. The Conservator II had done her well over the years, but some things canâ?Tt be solved through sheer will alone, and both Catherine and the ship were showing the age of years on their bodies. In the endless void, she had managed to stay hidden all these years, with only the clunking of the ship as her company.

Even with the rattling of her companion though, it was stillâ?¦  so very quiet.

Cat went about tending to the daily ship needs, making sure the computers were still functioning and at least displaying some form of information. According to what readouts she knew, they indicated they knew something about her general location, which was more than she could ask for. "Not that it really matters where I am," she thought. In the midship, she check the hover pads and landing struts. "Still all functioning today, though #4 would probably have to be replaced sooner than later." Runs to the scrap yards for what parts she had needed to stay alive were always interesting, to say the least, and finding something as big as a new hover pad, let alone installing it before she was noticed, would just make it all the more so.

Finally, noting that everything seems to be functioning enough to take a break, she headed towards the aft of the ship, where what was left the crew quarters were. As she walked through the darkened main room room leading to the galley, her hand absentmindedly brushed the chair sitting near the middle, the dust that had accumulated on the never-used leather collecting on her fingertips. The one room that was never used for anything, other than storage, as evident by the piles of used ration cans waiting for her next disposal run. Leaving the dark space behind and entering the galley, she cranked the handle of the storage bin,  dumping her daily ration into her waiting pan. Meandering back to her bed, she sat on the edge, slowly spooning the rations into her mouth, not even bothering to try and taste what had probably been someone elseâ?Ts discarded rations (for health reasons or otherwise), and not bothering to wipe the bit that had affixed itself and clung to her chin, almost purposefully refusing to drip back into the pan.

As she stared blankly around the room, her eyes affixed through the door, seeing the light from her room cast a bean which fell on the chair in the room, her finger trails highly evident across the back of the seat. The unused electronics and monitors there, never touched since she came across this ship, their dust covering undisturbed through all she and her ship had been through, seemed almost lifeless against the light.

At one time, that room had been a gateway...

A gateway... to another lifeâ?¦

 

A lifeâ?¦ without boundariesâ?¦ without rulesâ?¦

 

A lifeâ?¦ worth livingâ?¦

 

Catherine felt the familiar sting of tears rolling down her cheeks, staining her face with the trails, and caressing her jawline, her pan of ration tipping downwards and spilling a bit onto her feet. She could feel her body tremble, shiver, and begin the aching inside, despite her efforts to lessen the effect as the emotion, the only emotion she knew anymore, began to take it's hold once again. She had been given a great responsibility by her mentor, her friend... a great task of caring for others, protecting the Truce, and savingâ?¦

 

...and she had failed.

 

Failedâ?¦ and run away

 

Run awayâ?¦ and hidâ?¦

and now, she was, as been had been before she had chosen red over blue...

â?¦alone.

"I'm sorry," she whispered under her breath. "I'm so sorry I let you all down..." and she fell onto the bed, rations and pan clattering, spilling onto the floor, as Catherine sunk into her pillow, and let her emotion flow into the rough fabric once again.

[StarKitten]

The clamor of an alarm going off in the front end of the ship jolted Catherine from her sleep, her body rolling over and crashing out of her cot. Slipping a bit on the slick rations, she managed to get to her feet and take off for the front of the Conservator. â?oOh God, donâ?Tt let the hover pad be failing, not now,â? she cursed under her breath as she swerved through the corridors, dodging cords dangling through the hallways. Upon reaching the front of the ship, she threw the door open, stopping herself with a light thud against the back of the Captainâ?Ts chair, scanning the cockpit for signs of the impending problem.

However, no warnings were going off...  not from any of the shipâ?Ts systems. All the vital systems still showed levels of functioning in hues of red, yellow and green, but nothing showed imminent failure. Quickly, Cat brought up the radar, but that showed empty as well. She quickly pounded the side to make sure it was somewhat functioning but the radar still showed everything within a 1 km radius was clear and free. Then, Catherine turned around, and finally located the source.

 

The offending beeping, which she now realized being one sheâ?Td never heard the ship make before in her two years aboard, was coming from the communications panel.

â?¦the communications panel that had been disabled and powered down since she had come on-boardâ?¦

 

Looking down at the panel, seeing only the light indicating a message was being transmitted to her, she nervously looked about the panel, trying to find how it could have reactivated, or how it could be drawing power at all at this point. She was no mechanical expert, but she had been pretty sure she had severed all non-essential systems from the power grid a long time ago, and communications was entirely non-essential. Sure enough, all appropriate cords from the panel seemed to be severed and flopped behind the console. Despite this fact, even Cat couldn't deny that the pulsing green light illuminating the room was, in fact, coming from the panel.

Cautiously,  she reached over, and slowly pressed the â?oReceive Transmissionâ? button in. An voice came rattling through the rusted speaker, an all-too-familiar voice. A voice Catherine had not heard since that fateful night three years ago. A voice which sent a shiver straight through Catherine. She backed away from the panel, in shock, tripping and flopping back into the Captain's chair, her eyes affixed on the green, pulsing light, as the voice billowed through the cabin and directly to her core:

 

â?oHello there, Ms. LeFay. Your presence in the Matrix is requested immediately. Weâ?Tve missed you.â?