“Why do I need next steps? Why can't I just be where I am now? Does the station need me so badly?"
“Hm. That's a good question. Does your job often get bombarded with calls you can't handle?"
“No, it's relatively easy. I had an engineering degree back on Dhugar, you know." Why did I say that? I never talk about Dhugar. I just don't want her to think I am incapable, I guess.
“Well I suppose you still do."
“Huh?”
“Sanctuary Station recognizes all planet earned degrees and certifications. You may need a refresher course on some of the different technologies but I imagine you'd pick up quickly,” she says.
“I already did them, ma'am.”
“Call me Minnik, please,” she replies, smiling for the first time.
“I already got the updated courses. I'm fully qualified, Minnik,” I say with a tinge of pride.
“Then why, may I ask, did you obtain such advanced knowledge if not to use it?”
“I am using it. Beyond answering daily service calls, I help the other maintenance workers with their cases when they can't solve them and I've been working on some updates to our artificial daylight machines. I just don't want to lead again." Shit. Now why did I say that? She would surely latch on to that word…
"Again? Were you a leader of some kind on Dhugar?”
That was enough talk about my home planet for the day. I stood up and brushed the knees of my jumpsuit free of wrinkles. "I appreciate your time, Minnik, but I'm not up for talking about Dhugar anymore. Ever.”
With that I head for the door, but I can't tune her response out and, damn it, it makes me hesitate.
"If we don't talk about it, how will we keep it alive?”
“I don't want to keep it alive!” I practically roar. She has some nerve. "I want it dead and gone and wiped out of memory forever.”
“I thought that too, of my home world. For a long time I thought I wanted Esprit dashed from the history books of every species. Then one day I remembered the flowers.”
I snort.
“I know. The flowers. How mundane. But when I was a child, I'd braid the wildflowers into crowns for my sisters and I. None of them made it off the planet. I didn't want the flowers forgotten. And I didn't want my sisters forgotten either.”
She levels me with a long, piercing look. "We have to reconcile the ghosts of our pasts so we can bring forth thesprimin. I know that's probably not translating.Spriminare essentially good ghosts in Silfish culture. They follow you and protect you and guide you towards the best possible thread of your fate.”
Ah, likeurgruffuhfor Dhugarens. Our guardian warriors, guiding our blades and our bullets. I had forgotten about them; I actively try hard not to think about anything that reminds me of my home planet. Thinking of theurgruffuhmakes me soften a bit, though. I follow her back into the seating area.
We talk a little longer about the similarities in our cultures’ beliefs, not mentioning anyone specific. She doesn't mention the reason for my visit again, but I still walk out with a lighter step. I’m not convinced to take the new position—that isn't going to happen—but at least I have a destination in mind for the rest of my day.
Our talk ofurgruffuhandspriminmade me think of my father. He passed on many years before we left Dhugar, and during some of the biggest battles of my life I thought I felt him, just behind me, watching my back.
I never actually got to see battle with him, though. He was killed by a cowardly silicone bomb during a victory day parade when I was still a cub. “Our" side, the Dhugeshar had decimated abattalion of Dhugalpar, a rival nation in a brutal and bloody field battle. In retaliation, they sent bombs to demolish us.
Dhugarens, as a species, are an advanced enough race. We have science and medicine similar to other races that I’ve met, though none of us are as advanced as the Originem. We are set apart in our bloodlust though. Atomic bombs have been invented at least four different times in this galaxy, including on my home planet, but bombs were considered cowardly and amoral on Dhugar. Hand to hand combat was the most honorable act one could commit. It took a long time to understand how detrimental that way of life was, but I see now how pointless it all was. Dhugeshar and Dhugalpar all live in harmony now, for the most part. Some zealots still hang on to outdated ideas, but they stay quiet or risk rehabilitation courtesy of the Originem.
If we hadn't carried so much hate and prejudice and violence in our hearts, I might still be on Dhugar, and I might still have my father and we could walk through the snow drifts and teach my own son to make ice forts out of compacted snow like he taught me.
Usually these thoughts would knock me over and send me into a depressing spiral I couldn’t pull out of for days, but I thought again about what Minnik said. Perhaps I can honor my father in a small way, instead of letting his memory hurt me further. I know he wouldn’t want that.
The metal floor of Division Five clicks under my claws and it echoes off the high ceilings. The air is filled with the faint hum of the engines and all the various life support systems hosing through the walls and ceilings. These are sounds I have grown familiar with over the last five years, since the Originem brought us to the station. I use them now to ground me as I make my way through the quieter corridors of thedivision. The back alleys, if you will, that maintenance workers are privy to.
Like it or not, Sanctuary Station is home. And right now, I need to be in the one place that truly feels like it.
The Originem tried to make all the Divisions equally diverse, but each species is given a space on one of the floors to build their biome. I was part of the team who helped design the biome they gave us. We named it Little Ulvand, after the mountain we worshipped and left behind on our lost planet.
