Reflections of A Moon

[Omnivac]

I needed to kill time and now you get this. I hope you enjoy, and let me know if you'd like to read more like it, since I like writing stuff to give a better understanding of my characters motivations, history, and values.

Words: 1636

Character(s): Zander Moon

 

Captain Zander Moon looked out the departure wing windows at the vast expanse of emptiness that laid bare before him, his reflection on the glass, one of a tall and lean man with hard features and terrible scars below his eyes peering back to past him. He took a moment to realign his uniform in a way that satisfied him, lest someone make a comment behind his back about how sloppy he looked. Though was unlikely, as it seemed a great many members of the crew avoided him outright, and the ones who did freely speak with him did so with a level of courtesy and respect that almost reminded him of a very informal conversation back home.

It was times like this, when there were very few people actually aboard the station that he felt a certain amount of sentimentality that he normally not allow himself to feel. After all, he was taught anyone not trying their best to move forward no matter the burdens that the past lay upon them was doomed to a life devoid of happiness. Nostalgia was a form of vanity. A fixation on things as they were and thus a place where those without ambition could cherry pick examples of things “As they should be.”

“Should be often isn't.” Tutor Raymond often said.

As such he constantly drove himself forward. He challenged himself when and where he could, often finding that most problems he had could be overcome with his particular brand of kinetic solutions. No hurdle is insurmountable, nothing was beyond the appropriate application of will and force. Every day he found more examples of how these teachings applied, which only reaffirmed the thoughts within his mind as a river reaffirms it's place within a canyon. Despite this image, one used in the parables spoken to him often as a child in his schooling, the image of a canyon ran against one of the most important lessons of his people. Simply known as 'The Mantra' it had been spoken for generations: We shall endure.

“We shall endure.” Words his Father spoke to him quietly many nights during the famine that overtook his home a fleet of generation ships that had been traveling over 200 years, The Winter King Flotilla, when he was a young boy. He along with the other captain's holding their people's faith in the elders as well as their faith in the very pilgrimage that their progenitors had embarked on. Some could not keep the faith, and were allowed to leave.

Yet nothing is ever how it seems, “The day is day even if you rest in shade. You will learn Sunlight is often harsh, yet it is needed for life to flourish.” The Tutor told him.

It was not until he became a Father himself at the age of 20, that he learned the price of their freedom from the traditions. To be cast out to ensure there was enough food for the rest of the fleet. Such a heavy sacrifice could never payed back to those lost in this life or the next.

“We shall endure.” Words his Mother proudly proclaimed over the Flotilla's communications grid, spoken in solidarity in the face of one of the worst Pirate onslaughts in their history. She along with the other Tigers saving the fleet by show of arms and well kept faith. This inspired him to follow in her footsteps as a Flotilla Tiger. He will never forget how tightly she held him when he expressed how happy he was she had won the day. “No, child, not I. We have won the day. We have won our tomorrows from them.”

The significance of such a statement and the tears his mother shed, all but completely lost on him. He asked, his tutor “Why would Mother Moon weep such bitter tears if we were victorious?”

The tutor replied solemnly “Every victory has a price. The blood of the Flotilla Borne, the blood of the enemy, what is truly different about it once it is spilled upon the ground? The floor cares not what wet it. Blood, Tears, Rain. It is upon us to recollect what has been spent and what has been bought. It is upon us to ensure enough is payed and nothing more.”

It was not until he rose to some level of notoriety within the ranks of the Flotilla Tigers did he learn that the pirates were not the ones who struck the first blows that day. Some people of the same pirate band had attacked some Flotilla Borne sometime ago to try to make a statement at a space port, to show the Flotilla was not welcome there. The Elders decreed that such a transgression shall not go unpunished and called a strike against them. “...For if they struck out against a few of us, how long until they strike out at us upon the ships where we stand?”

“We shall endure.” Words he found slipping from his lips as a young man at the alter, seeing the same fear in the eyes of Alice, a red haired woman with dark skin, and, his bride. The same fear that he himself felt. Uncertainty as his Father bound his trembling right hand to her left, and her Mother tied his left to her right, signifying on a physical aspect at least, their unity.

“We shall endure.” She said to him, from beyond an airlock where he could not hear nor see her and the body of their daughter. Slain by one of the very pirates who had lost that day long ago, as the Elders repeated their orders over the intercom to vent medical area seven. His trembling hand hovering over the console. Even as he carried out the order trying to think of some other way.

His hesitation was not overlooked. “No son of the Flotilla can hesitate under any circumstances. We are all blood here, they were our kin as well and we do not make such decisions lightly. Your sentence for the failure to execute your duty as Golden Tiger is exile. We shall spill no more blood of kin today. You are never to return unless recalled.”

This memory had caused him for a moment to forget where he was. Something that he hoped no one had seen. He attempted his best to remain stoic on the station. It was not easy, at times he had nearly been driven into a blind rage at, what he often realized in retrospect was some small issue, or a slight that the offender hadn't realized would be an issue.

Wiping a tear from his eye he turned his back to the window.

No one had yet to scream for his assistance to fix access or attempt to get into an area for a reason that was flimsy at best.

The engine was running and the engineers were debating what color paint to use for when the get around to redoing their break room for the fifth time this week.

Medical was only filled with doctors and nurses and the occasional paramour, or at least one hoping to be. Light chatter among the staff there about current events and the gossip around the station. He did not wish to pry, as it seemed like an internal matter so he muted their comms for now.

The brig was empty and security was swapping stories of their weekends, some bordering on tasteless, but he let it slide since it was more or less harmless. So he stayed silent, letting them have their fun for now.

Even the bar was silent, normally worrying, however as he passed earlier he found a handful of patrons at their own tables reading books or papers printed from the newscasters. The few visitors on the station taking their days off to see coworkers or to at least benefit from the free food and drinks their contracts granted them.

The cargo staff were attempting to decide who was going to be the one to file the paperwork today. This task, he thought would be easier if they cooperated with each other on it, however that distinction seemed to be shifted to a cargo technician that could not get a word in edgewise. Meanwhile the Quarter Master seeing little work in the near future seemed to be trying to get to medbay, for 'reasons'. He chuckled at this.

“One Craft, one crew. One fleet, one people. We exist to serve one an other, but never think that anyone who serves under you is below you. Where would the mountains be if not for the firmament that it sits atop? Never think that any above are your betters, where would the clouds be if not for the mountains that hold up the sky? In all of the worlds of all of the stars there exists nothing that is not interconnected and dependent on all that is around it. As such, these things form associations that they can not help. After all, they have not will. We do. It is the essence of what makes us beautiful and unique among all things. We can choose who we associate with, and as such we choose who and what we are connected with and dependent on. One Craft, one crew. It is as such, we have chosen to be a family. From the children, to the People of the Castes, to the Captains, to the Elders. We are all one. Without each other, we would be adrift. Take care of your kin, no matter where you find yourself. It is after all, the will of the Goddesses. Who are we to deny the divine?”

“Message for you on the bridge Captain.” The station's AI informed him in a gentle synthetic voice.

Who indeed?