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I had my fair share of crazy shenanigans travelling around the Heliosphere and beyond. That whale pod in the Oort Cloud? That was just a beginning. Oh, yes. We got up to a lot of mischief back then, Fern, Nomi and me. It's a long story though, and I'm not particularly inclined to spill all our secrets just yet.
We have all been retired from our rogue lifestyle into a more comfortable life, with steady but fulfilling jobs that went nicely with what each of us were good at. They made me a chief engineering officer at Alectrona-Delta. It was curious, how I ended up back there, when that is precisely where our first adventure began. This time, I wasn't planning to blow anything up, though.
Fern, ever the fleabag, got to use her creative problem solving skills as a chief officer for… I forget the precise title. She was the main authority on dealing with people outside the Heliosphere, and after all the issues around the Kuiper net and our experiences with the Oortian peoples, I don't think there was anyone better suited for the role. It meant we barely saw each other, though. We called a lot at first — we formed something of a codependent bond after all we've been through — but even that had lost on frequency until we stopped talking completely.
The Innominate (or Nomi, as me and Fern nicknamed them to their absolute horror) was named the first ever sentient research vessel and effectively became a head of a research lab and the research lab itself. I know, sentient ships are confusing. Don't tell them I said that. Anyway, they stopped by the station a few times in my first few years, pretending to need my "expert opinion" on something they could've figured out without me, pretending to be annoyed that they had to even acknowledge my existence, let alone speak to me, and overall doing a very poor job convincing me that they didn't just stop by to see me. As I said, codependent bond.
I missed them, both of them, but life on the station was treating me well. I loved my job, and I was finally helping people. It took some getting used to, it did, but I was content.
It was early morning and I had just returned after pulling a triple shift. There was a glitch somewhere in the temperature regulator and some parts of the station blasted scorching hot air through the vent systems, and we had to fix it before more people got injured. Things like this didn't happen often, but when they did, my time spent on our space adventures came in handy. I had planned to gulp down a dangerous amount of coffee and catch up on the paperwork I'd been putting off. The amount of paperwork chief officers have to fill out is astonishing. I was not meant to finish any of it that day, though.
I checked my voicemail in case anyone tried to get a hold of me while I was unavailable due to the crisis at hand. To my surprise, a hologram of a stranger appeared and, without introducing himself, started speaking in a honeyed, friendly tone.
"Hello, Guy. I bring bad news — the Innominate has disappeared. We don’t know much, but it is in the Helios authorities' interest to get him back. Apart from being sentient, the ship also has our latest tech built into it. It would be a disaster if it fell into the wrong hands. We cannot let the public know that potential enemies might get a hold of Helios tech this advanced. Therefore, I ask you and Fern to embark on one last top secret mission. It will be dangerous. You may die. But if you want to get the Innominate back, you have no choice. Despite that, this is not an order, it is a request. And it is also the last chance to say goodbye to your unlawful adventures. I will give you the exact instructions in person, shall you agree to accept this mission. I look forward to your cooperation."
Just as the hologram blipped out of existence, unlabelled coordinates appeared on my personal station system interface screen. Alright, that wasn't creepy at all… And what was it with him using our first names like he knew us?
The choice between saving a friend and doing nothing wasn't really a choice at all, not anymore, I didn't even need to stop and consider it. Until then, I had not fully realized how much I'd missed being in action. I grabbed my tool kit and ran out of my personal quarters, the coffee and the stack of paperwork long forgotten.
There, in the crowded station plaza, I caught a glimpse of her pinkish red braided hair for the first time in years. She was gone before I could so much as call out, but I was certain it was her. I would've recognised her anywhere, we had spent too much time around each other for that. I knew every little subconscious movement she made. I just hadn't expected her here, on the station, minutes after receiving the most cryptic message of my life. But then again, maybe I should have.
I pushed the thought of her away and continued on to the coordinates. When she agrees to the mission, I will see her again soon enough.
The spot was in the middle of a moderately busy corridor, like almost any other in the habitable part of this station. It was strange, and I had my reservations, but I trusted my skills enough to take a risk. I've picked up a few self-defence tricks from Fern over our years side by side.
I was pulled out of my thoughts by a sudden movement, registered only out of the corner of my eye. That was when I saw her for the second time, and this time I was sure that it wasn’t a figment of my imagination. She was really here, on Alectrona-Delta. I wanted to run after my dear friend, but I was stopped by the deceivingly friendly voice of the stranger from the hologram.
"Guy? Are you waiting for me, or have you appeared at the coordinates I sent you by pure chance and completely unintentionally?”
I turned to the man who called me by my first name and whom I've never met. There was no way I could catch up to Fern anyway. A smile played on the stranger's face, and laughter seeped into his voice as he introduced himself. William Carter… Where have I heard that name?
He told me that this mission was dangerous and that no one would force me to participate in it. He repeatedly emphasized that it was my choice, and I had to be absolutely certain, because there would be no turning back. But as I said, the choice between saving a friend and doing nothing wasn't a choice at all.
Only when I managed to thoroughly convince Carter that I really wouldn't back out of this did he send me to the docks. There was a tucked away corner where a small group could gather unobserved and without being listened to. I was given an hour to gather belongings I didn't need and say goodbye to friends I didn't have, so I spent the time wandering around the docks. I was thinking about what final adventure would this take us on when I heard the sound of falling crates in the aisle to my left. I looked in that direction, startled.
And there, between the toppled crates, her dark eyes wide in her terrified face, I saw her for the third time. Even from a distance I could hear a quiet "shit" slip from her lips, and she took off. Only this time, I had no intention of letting her escape.
"Stop! Fern, wait!" I shouted after her in vain.
The maze of the vast docking hall was not easy to navigate, but the hours spent aimlessly wandering this often very busy space worked in my favour. It was a place I went to think, and I had it mapped out to the last crate of cargo.
By the time she ran around the next corner, she was almost within reach, and before I could think better of it, I reached out and grabbed her wrist. She turned to me, almost desperately, and I wasn’t sure if it was just the harsh lighting or if I really saw tears in her eyes. When I was sure she wouldn’t bolt again, I let go of her hand.
We stood for a moment in a heavy, electrifying silence, and then she pulled me into her embrace. It was so comforting to be able to rest my chin on her head again and wrap my arms around her. It was as if our friendship never faded, as if it had always been there, unchanging, latent, waiting for the right moment to resurface. And maybe it had.
"It's good to see you, Guy," she whispered softly as she released me from her grip and smiled sadly. It was so unlike her, this expression.
"Then why did you run?" I asked, confused. Either she was lying to my face, which, sure, she did many times before, but she wouldn't lie about something like this. She wouldn't. Or… Or something was very, very wrong.
I was expecting her to go on an incoherent ramble before she came up with an excuse that sounded plausible enough. She didn't. This new, thoughtful Fern was unsettling. It was like uncanny valley, it was almost her, but something about her was just off.
"Because I wanted to avoid having this conversation," she admitted finally with a devastated sigh, her whole demeanour deflated.
"You know, Guy, I wanted to find out what the mission plan was. Stop looking at me like that, I couldn't just accept it openly without being able to back out. I have a wife and a three-year-old son, this isn't responsibility I can just run away from like I used to back then."
"You're married?" I was processing out loud. "Wh— a son!?"
"Guy, after you," she smiled like it would soothe the sting of her not telling me. I wasn't even invited to the wedding.
Still hurt, I took half a step back.
"Fern, what are you really doing here? If you didn't agree to come along, why are you on Alectrona-Delta?"
There was a moment of silence, foreign and uncanny. She seemed ashamed. The Fern I knew was never ashamed, for anything.
"I wanted to see you. Maybe even wish you luck on the mission I can't take part in."
"You're the only thing that ever brought me luck and you know it. Come with me, Fern, please. You're irreplaceable, I don't know what to do in an emergency without you by my side. Come. Please."
My eyes stung with tears. I was sure she'd jump on the chance to have one last space adventure together, and I hadn't realised until now how helpless I'd be if she declined. I hadn't realised how much I needed her there, and how much it would hurt if she knew that and still said no.
"Guy, we both know I can't."
I could see she was decided, and stubborn about it as always, but I couldn't help but try one last time, desperate to convince her. I didn't think I could handle it if she disappeared from me for the second, final time.
"I can't do this without you." I took the half-step back toward her and took her hand to make her understand. "Please, Fern, I'll be lost without you. I missed you so much." A tear ran down my cheek.
"I missed you too," she said, devastated. "But I'll never leave my wife and son. I can't. And I… I don't want to. I'm sorry, Guy. Give Nomi all my love."
"If I can even find them, let alone save them, without you," I said grimly, another tear rolling down my face.
"I don't doubt that for a second," she smiled, but it was a sad thing. She squeezed my hand before letting go of it and disappeared around the corner.
After that, I never saw her again.