#helish drabble

[sohelish]

'But if you don't, how will we ever solve the case?' She stared doe-eyed, mouth slightly agape. There was a strong suggestive intensity about that gaze she could pull off so easily.

The woman would look into another person's very being as if pleading: I need you to do it for me, it is only you that I need.

And to her surprise, this time she felt... nauseous. A good kind of nauseous that told her that she wasn't an entirely soulless person. It wasn't remorse that she experienced. And yet she received no pleasure from manipulating someone she considered a partner. They were supposed to trust each other, fulfil each other's requests. Or at least show the courtesy of considering them. Unfortunately, the present company wasn't in a receptive state of mind, and, alas, work had to be done. The clock was ticking and lives were at stake.

[sohelish]

A pair of fit Andorian arms threw her onto the pillows and pinned her down for the moment. So it was enough to stop any impish and sensual activity that Helena had initiated prior, having had the nerve to play with the lady's antennas in a most risqué manner. The move was not taken as offensive, however. And the women boomed with their cheerful and hearty laughs.

Dilia was smaller compared to your average Andorian, which didn't stop her from towering over Helena, who looked downright fragile next to her. The only threatening thing about her seemed to be the overwhelming amount of blonde hair atop her head. That's how Dilia saw the situation anyway. She preferred it. Having spent quite some time sharing potentially sensitive information with the human, she wanted to believe that the little creature before her wouldn't have anything sinister to do with the offered data. Her appearance didn't exactly scream "spy." Definitely not in the way Dilia was accustomed to.

Yet she couldn't help but gulp whenever there was a glimpse of mischievous light in Helena's eyes. Then, she talked herself into a state of denial anyway.

Hel Redford was just a fun acquaintance, a one-night stand of convenience, merely pretending to be interested in her work: transporter maintenance and logistics coordination. Nor did her questions relate to Dilia being the youngest daughter of Colonel Th'kaari, a semi-prominent figure in the Diplomatic Corps. Not even her father took Dilia and her choice of profession seriously, often joking at her expense during family dinners. Why would someone else do that under these circumstances?

But here. Helena's eyes twinkled again, and Dilia rolled away, nesting her face into the mess of pillows and blankets with a dramatic huff. The blonde followed her affected motions and smiled. The Andorian's aggressive embarrassment caused her to miss a very rare and warm gesture directed her way.

Meanwhile, it was something of significance. This affair became one of those occasions when Hel was bothered by the relative simplicity and straightforwardness of her existence. During her adventures, she got to meet remarkable, intriguing people. Take Dilia, for example. She could listen to her talk about the problem-solving feats and challenges of interstellar logistics for hours and hours on end, in the bedroom and outside of it. However, her mission demanded that she take as much as possible from this encounter only to never contact or see Dilia again. Such a shame it is, she thought and inhaled deeply, fully prepared to savour the last passionate moments they could afford to experience. The human woman let herself feel sad and hopeful while staring at the ceiling. But soon, she started counting the dots in the poly-foam coverage. It allowed her to detach and go back to her seductive interrogation quicker.

'So.' She shifted to lie on her side and scooted closer to the alien girl. 'Where were we?' Playfully, she ran her finger across the blue skin. 'You were telling me about the shuttle schedule discrepancies? The frequency of transporter overloads during— packed diplomatic events?'

[sohelish]

She didn't have a place among the sceptics and the practicals, because she strived to keep an open mind and had been too often a subject of situations where ones senses could not be trusted, and an outlook unhindered by rules was needed. Among the dreamers, she had no friends either. For they required detachment and passive disconnection that Helena considered to be counterproductive. She struggled to rein in her own mind and spirit in exchange for being an active part of something unknown and greater. An avid over-thinker, she forced herself to act instead, going somewhat against her nature, yet giving it direction. Which caused those who should be her equals, to see her as erratic. If you are chill, then what's with all the unnecessary action? If you are analytical, then why the excessive philosophy?

Was she bothered at first? Yes, when she was younger. Soon, though, she learned a simple truth. You can't please anyone even if you did your best. One way or another, a person will stumble upon a piece of you that they will dislike and instantly work to change. That, she took as a cue to leave, as she became not a fellow being, but a project and very much so did not intend to give the other the satisfaction of being such.

[sohelish]

tw for panic and heights

She could not believe that it was happening. She had had so much progress over the years in keeping her fear of heights under control that each time it slipped, Hel ended up surprised. What a silly mistake to make since not all the problems you face can be dealt with for good. Who knows when you might run into something you'd have to battle for your entire life.

Wishful thinking is dangerous, oh so dangerous.

Each time she climbed up to a certain level, Helena had to ask herself: will my head start spinning this time? Will I feel a sudden wave of fear wash over me? And it is icy cold and a vicious surge. It covers you at the wrong moment - and you are done, say your final goodbye.

Come on, move, move.

It happened. That was just the exact issue at the moment.

Every now and then, Hel would partake in climbing in order to monitor her current situation. So much effort put into fighting off the fits couldn't go unnoticed over the course of life. And yet, the failures stood out sore and loud.

Come on, you sad little... move your hand!

She challenged herself, but there was no use, it seemed. The woman froze completely and so close to the top as well. She could sense the dizziness threatening to overwhelm her. Her breathing was hectic. The certainty on the inside she usually possessed went missing. Panic was rising, and she wanted to scream. Why, why was it a thing? What was causing it? Which height triggered this, and what were the conditions?

Phobia is an “irrational” fear. Get a grip. Oh, wait, hahah.

Hel let out a wry chuckle, glaring at her clenched fingers. Once again, she put mental effort into commanding herself to proceed with no result on that front.

Fine then. Fall.

Anything was better than being frozen in place, better than stagnation.

Fall. Relax those fingers.

Being stuck was the worst and not allowed, any action was preferable to inaction.

Let go.

Her stomach turned at the thought of it. Before she even released the hold.

See. Falling isn't as scary as the idea of it.

And then she went flying towards the ground. Until next time.

[sohelish]

The Aktau incident

'You test?' The universal translator wasn't working well, but it functioned enough to establish communication. The transaction was simple anyway. It didn't require an elaborate negotiation. No need to over-think it. Pfft, sure. The latter wasn't Helena's strong suit.

'Test it. Me?' On the one hand, it seemed like a decent idea. Why buy something that wasn't working? There was always a risk of that happening, of course. But here, she'd been provided with an opportunity to negate that risk. On the other hand...

The woman stared at the alien device with unveiled suspicion. Ironically, it didn't look unworldly at all. If anything, it reminded Hel of one of those aesthetically pleasing neo-fountains. A person was meant to admire them and relax, studying the intricately carved details and listening to the sounds of running water.

This thing bore a striking resemblance, and the less threatening it appeared, the more Hel's scepticism grew. She weighed all the pros and cons. Once, twice.

'Alright.' Her Bosses knew where she was. The deal was relatively open and transparent. The Lvessians seemed to be a very peaceful people. Nothing about them suggested they'd turn on her out of the blue. If they did, there were contingency plans.

Still, Hel was quite nervous. And extremely thrilled.

'What do I do?' She asked, watching the Lvessian merchant approach the device. He gently pushed a component that was prodding out - a metronome? The ticking that followed was infernal. 'Should we maybe---'

That sound was so disturbing. It felt like it was drilling into her skull. Hel began to utter something in protest but couldn't hear herself speak. Was she even opening her mouth? Could she move?

The woman blinked - ah! That she could feel herself do. She blinked again and again rapidly.

Until she found herself staring at the monitors all of a sudden. They gave off the impression of being both familiar and very distant at the same time. The latter - literally, too. Because Hel was very aware of how considerably she had to lift her head to see the upper readings.

'Снова на мониторы поглядываешь, эх, Хэлька. Мама твоя будет недовольна. Разве она тебе не сказала идти читать ту книженцию?'

Hel slowly turned her gaze towards the voice.

'I won't be reading that. You know it.'

'I know, that's why I brought you this.'

The man kneeled down beside the young girl and handed her a paper book. Really? That got her full attention. The piece looked old and worn. Would she dare touch it at the risk of it falling apart? She did reach out, examining the title.

'История свободы мысли.' Helena hadn't read this one, but she could tell what it might be about. The notion forced a sinister chuckle out of her. 'Mom's going to freak, дядь Кость.'

'Yes, well,' the man patted little Helly on the head. 'That's just her way. Not much we can do about it. Now go, out of the grown-ups' way. I've got work to do.'

With that, he walked off, leaving the girl alone with the book she'd been clutching, staring at it as if it was the most precious thing.

And yet.

Hel's head snapped, her eyes fixed sharply in the direction of his departure. That wasn't the way to the science lab. Or the bio lab, nor was it the optimal route to the engineering. Docking bays, cargo holds - more likely. What business could uncle Kostya possibly have there? Hel felt herself blinking again. Finally, it hit her - the realisation that the device was working as intended. Interesting.

The next few moments playing in her mind were about her following uncle Kostya's movements whenever he was doing something she considered strange. 

One such case stood out. The girl made her way through the crowd and concealed herself in the side corridor, peeking out. She was surprised to witness Konstantin Zhdanov talking to Richard Redford, her father's brother. Why would uncle Rick even come to Aktau-5? He was such a busy man.

'Is everything ready?'

'Mhm.'

'Are you sure? This is important.'

'Yes-yes. It's done. But I don't understand, Rick. Why would you want to store something like that here? We're not exactly the proper facility.'

'It's only temporary. I don't have another choice, and I can always count on you.'

That was when a loud stomping interrupted Helena's focus. She could feel a pair of arms wrap around her.

'Helly, what are you doing here!?'

Damn it. Жэка... зараза.

'Dude, come on. I wanna show you the thing. Come on!'

Before she could process what was happening, Hel felt herself being pulled and dragged off by her brother Eugene. He took her down the same corridor Konstantin and Richard were currently using for their private meeting.

'Hey, uncle Kostya! Hey, uncle Rick!'

He remained forever oblivious to what was going on. Helena, however, felt Richard Redford's heavy questioning gaze fixed on her.

When she sensed herself blink next, the woman knew what was coming. By then, she'd settled in, watching it all like a movie.

Helly Redford was running, running for her life... not really. No. Her mother was chasing her, letting out an occasional cry. The child had yet again managed to upset her to an extent and didn't want to deal with Oksana, so she rushed off, hoping to hide.

There had to be a vent somewhere - an emergency maintenance corridor that led to another part of the station. Hel's dad left the schematics lying around, and she took the chance to study them, thinking it could come in handy one day. Aha!

She ducked to the side and unsealed the panel. How fortunate it was that it had to remain open at all times in case of trouble. How difficult it was, though, to move the grate. She didn't expect it to be so heavy. Hurt her shoulder doing it.

However, she was determined. And so the girl hopped inside and started crawling. Behind, she heard her mother's voice echo: да, что ж это за ребенок такой, а!?

Of course, she read the schematic wrong. Or, perhaps, she took a wrong turn somewhere along the way?

When Hel finally made it out, not only was she totally whacked and exhausted, she also ended up in the wrong section entirely. The vent was far above the ground, so when she kicked out the grate and jumped down, she miscalculated and fell roughly on her side. The pain was hot and blunt. She was generally disoriented.

It took her a while to adjust her eyes and see that she'd landed in one of the cargo bays. Damn it. An odd one at that. Weren't these supposed to be filled to the brim? The area was relatively empty, and there was something different as well. The humidity was all off. The environmental control settings must have been turned to extremely dry.

Hel made an effort to get up, fighting through the pain and fatigue. Her slightly worn will was overpowered by sudden curiosity: why did so many things in the bay appear abnormal?

More importantly, what was it about the seemingly alien tube that resembled a high-tech sarcophagus? To anyone who lived on the station, it would be obvious enough. The object didn't belong.

Carefully she approached it, scrutinising. Everything was forgotten: the aching, the misfortunes, all were replaced by a rush of excitement. That was what the archaeologists from the stories must have felt when they came across a mystery that could make or break their career.

Her ecstatic state was short-lived, however. The secrecy of a concealed alien object was tainted by the quick assessment of the screens.

By no means was Helena an expert in any manner. But she had spent enough time trying to understand the numbers and readings on the monitors scattered around Aktau-5. The girl did it in a misguided attempt of a regular child - striving to grow up a bit quicker.

Not that she needed to know a lot to figure out a few simple facts. The screen, attached to the alien sarcophagus, showed one set of data. Meanwhile, the panel on the wall connected to the station's computer and was painting another picture entirely.

She gulped. The station readings were somewhat standard, but the indicators on the monitor of the alien pod were displaying a rapid rise in numbers.

Hel decided not to stay for too long under these circumstances. She rushed towards a relatively small cargo crate, doing her best to move it through the pang in her shoulder. She'd need it to get up and crawl into the vent again at any cost.

If it weren't for the instilled fear and the adrenaline pumping, she probably wouldn't have made it out. Fortunately, she did - breathing heavily, on the verge of collapsing.

Her work wasn't done, though. Work... when did it become a kid's task to go through all that? It didn't matter. First things first, she hurried to talk to her father.

Helena had chosen to go to him because, well, he was her favourite parent. Which was ironic since he didn't seem to give a damn about her. But Harold Redford's indifference for whatever reason provided her with more comfort than her mother's crusade to change who she was.

She had chosen poorly. Harry didn't appear to be bothered much, having listened to his own daughter's frantic tale. In fact, he barely glanced away from the engineering station.

'How many specialists are working on this station?' He asked, and Hel had to focus hard to remember the answer. 'How likely is it that none of them noticed the readings in the cargo bay were abnormal?'

When she didn't answer, Harold let out a deep existential sigh. That was when Hel knew - she'd lost this battle. That sigh was final.

The next round was with her mother. She'd been in the bio lab, taking care of the specimens. When Hel entered, the woman dropped everything and stared at her.

'What have you done now?' There was judgement in her eyes as well as something else. Fear. But was it the fear for her daughter or of her?

That conversation went better, all things considered.

'Are you absolutely sure? It's not one of those pranks you and your brother pull on everybody?'

How weird - her kids hadn't done anything like that in years. Helena nodded to the former and shook her head to the latter.

'Alright,' Oksana Redford moved to put the samples away. 'Найди дядю Костю, расскажи ему. Бегом.'

Why didn't she go straight to uncle Kostya? Oh, yeah. In the back of her mind, she'd already thought him responsible and guilty.

That she did. Still, when she told the man everything. When he leaned down in front of her and grabbed her firmly by the shoulders, saying it would be alright. She believed him. She trusted him.

Even as the alarm went off and the station corridors turned red.

Enough, she stated. Helena couldn't speak. But in her mind, she concluded that this much would suffice. It wasn't like she didn't know what would happen next. The horror, the screams, the deaths. As far as she was concerned, the demonstration was over.

'The evacuation route is that way, go, kiddo.'

Uncle Kostya's last words to her.

Enough, enough.

She focused on her inner voice in the now, in the today.

It works. It works well. It...

'It works.'

At last! 

The woman could feel herself blink and hear herself talk, coming back to a normal state.

Her first coherent thought? It was a pity that the trader didn't give her a proper warning. She would've set the timer and checked how long this mental trip had taken her.

Hel glanced at the digital clock on the wall. A rough estimation, but it couldn't have been longer than a minute or two. Impressive. Such a vivid experience, effective and quick.

The mind-numbing sound was a crucial part of the mechanism, no doubt. Although there must have been something else to it. Helena did her best to shake off the brain fog. Radiofrequency electromagnetic radiation? The scientists would have to study this device further. She made a note to ask them about it. After all, this was very curious and exciting.

'I'll take it. The payment will arrive as promised.'

She made her way towards the appliance she'd called the "neo-fountain" and stopped the metronome part with her finger.

It was hard to tell whether she didn't notice the sheer astonishment with which the Lvessian trader was looking at her. Or maybe she chose not to.

[sohelish]

In a lone shuttle, Hel was tapping away on the PADD, chin in hand, dull eyes lifting every now and then to stare into the vast emptiness of space.

The ion storm was approaching, as indicated by the multitude of sensors. But the woman wasn't even paying attention at this point. She was technically far enough not to get hit by it. Technically. But she was aware of how the proportions were frequently underestimated.

Hah. And people say size doesn't matter. It does.

Still, the emergency shutdown protocols, along with the equipment that didn't depend on electricity, should have carried her through the most precarious situation. Assumably.

It was Oolg who got it worse. And when she was saying her goodbyes to the man, she was realistically certain that he wouldn't be returning. With his ion pods and untested ground-breaking tech, he would be trying to outrun the storm to get at least some data on it. The trick? Fifteen minutes tops were what he'd get. And there was no guarantee that anything useful would come of it. Or that the general set-up would deliver results. The one where Oolg was supposed to transfer the data to Hel if he were to get anything.

A fool's errand even by her abstract thinking standards. A damned reckless waste of a good specialist, too, for the sentient being as a resource, in her opinion, was the most precious one. But Admiral Vvin was the chief scientist, he knew better, and she lost that argument. So there she was - tap-tap, tapping. Risking her life and almost definitely sacrificing Oolg in the process.

Why are scientists such assholes? What's the correlation? And should she be asking herself this if she chose to be an asshole but forwent the scientific route? After all, the answers will likely savour strongly of bitterness.

Tap-tap.

[sohelish]

for the send a word meme: friendship

@becomingsea + meme

'Nomen!'

'Gharr!'

An extremely loud exchange like that had to attract Helena's attention.

The transportation hub was buzzing with a myriad of feelings. Sadness due to people leaving, the joy of those greeting their loved ones, and naturally, the weariness of the individuals who travelled for business purposes and were forced to navigate between the other two groups.

Proudly associated with the latter, Hel found herself caught in a moment when she had nothing else to do and could afford to indulge in people-watching. Perhaps it was also possible to let go a little and allow the mind to wander, for hers revelled in doing just that.

She watched closely as the two men went on with their obnoxiously loud display. As if their deliberation lay specifically in presenting to the entire world: look at us, we are so close, we are friends! They even went for that manlier version of a hug, grasping at each other's forearms firmly. And shaking, shaking. The very sight made her slightly nauseous and mildly uncomfortable even though she wasn't the one caged in someone's embrace.

The woman averted her gaze and inevitably drifted towards considering the concept familiar to the entire world and yet very distant to her own understanding. In all her years of observing, learning and trying ( oh yes, she did try ), Hel couldn't grasp the inner workings of a friendship. To her, it was an unstable construct. She could understand a business-like relationship based on mutual benefits and cooperation. When it came to friendship, a person, she had arrived at a conclusion, was to engage in a deal most unclear. Based on the notion that friends provide anything automatically if that much is implied, not even distinctly stated. And said person also had to be initially prepared to give a little more than they could afford - as a sign of trust. The stakes were high, the risks, too. And what did one get from the deal? A companionship negligibly more intimate than that offered through an alliance or a partnership? A deeper connection? But was it even worth it, that depth? Not to her, definitely, since she wasn't prepared to give up herself in exchange for another person's constant presence. If anything, she preferred to see her associates in controlled doses.

What bothered her most personally, however, were the boundaries. For as soon as somebody started using the word friend, they were about to make unreasonable, selfish demands, ultimately falling into disregard for the point of view of the other. And eventually, the elastic band of the boundary would snap. Bits of it flying off and wounding everyone in the process, causing small tactical cracks which would be so hard to locate and deal with, complicating the healing.

Hel pulled herself back to reality, too lost in thought for her own liking again. To anchor, she used the pair who were still talking very cheerfully, fixating once more on their eye-catching shamelessness.

And that was when the development occurred. A woman entered the picture, greeted with delight and a warm hug by the first man whose grip then never left her. Meanwhile, Helena saw the undeniably recognisable jolt of pain in the other friend's eyes. Oh, there we go.

She didn't stay much longer to discover a more particular reason for the dismay: jealousy or disapproval, who wanted whom more. It didn't matter. Her transport was to depart, and thus she moved away, quite satisfied with her brief reverie and the small amount of data fed to her confirmation bias. Hel was very aware she was engaging in it. And yet she was unable not to relish in its sensation.

[sohelish]

Rest

Helena is officially alone - no loud noises, nothing to disturb her. The room she’s currently residing in can be considered somewhat soundproof due to its design. Perhaps, not to go as far as to say that it will conceal every scream, but oh, the bliss.

Her head is absolutely buzzing, heavy as lead. There are no people of any kind around here. And will not be for a while since she is fully contained now in these four walls.

It’s time for her to rest, at last, because the entire world is work, tiresome, exhausting. She soaks it all in, every inch and bit, running the data through her mind. Mulling it over every day.

In this place, the outside is not allowed.

Hey, Hel? What do you do when you’re not snooping around?

She chuckles and instantaneously makes a face as if the person asking this is present. But no, the girl who posed the question is not currently in the vicinity. Yet Helena reacts and catches herself doing it.

Damn, damn. Enough. Stop and relax for a change.

The woman focuses on her breathing, in and out, in and out again. Allows her shoulders to fall and visibly shakes the springiness off of herself. Her face slowly changes, shades of amusement disappearing, leaving only the wrinkles as a trace of her active expressions.

Her eyes barely ever sparkle with any warmth, but this time they go fully dull, almost like she isn’t really there inside her own head.

‘Finally. Nicely done.’

That is how she motivates herself. And why she says it out loud. Her tone, usually cheerful and confident, is gone entirely. The raspy voice is flat. And for a moment, it appears as if every bit of her surroundings is an irritant. And she disapproves of the air itself. It is not true, by all means, but that is the impression.

A blanket of impassiveness covers her - that is when she resembles her childhood self the most. The kid who would sit and stare and observe and judge.

She no longer partakes in the judging, however. Because it has been declared a universal waste of time, and there is nothing to observe in the room. Purposefully so.

Hel blinks rapidly three times, moves her head from side to side, checking. Making sure the professional mask of excitement is stored neatly enough somewhere deep within her.

That is when the light returns to her eyes, even if it’s a dimmed variation. After all, it has always been about the eyes. Nothing else her face shows is ever truly interpreted properly. Rarely, at least.

Alright. What is on the menu tonight?

She walks towards the stack of books that she had brought over: the load of them of a self-improvement kind. Time and resource management, a guide to making quick decisions and how to think more effectively, others with similar themes and titles.

Hel picks one and flops on the couch, opening the...

She is fast asleep, completely knocked out.

[sohelish]

Icy adventures part 2

As she was about to collapse from exhaustion, the Guardian finally made it to a suitable cave. The second wave of energy filled her at the sudden stroke of luck, and she focused on the Solar Light, keeping herself warm and cosy. 

‘How’s that signal you’re sending to Elsie doing? Is it coming through?

She even started working on the Vex parts, having run into a Minotaur on her way to safety. Brought quite a few trophies along with her, even as her ghost protested and lectured her on priorities.

‘No.’

Izi dipped down as if in shame, its voice a morbid tremble.

‘No worries,’ the ghost’s owner was way too cheerful for the ongoing situation. ‘I should’ve told her that I’m coming over. Then she’d be on the lookout for me, but, hey. Couldn’t risk her being nosy, could I.’

‘Yes, but... This is no time to laugh, Hel. This is serious.’

I’m frightened, was what Izi wanted to say, yet chose not to appear weak.

‘Relax, we’ve been stuck like this before, haven’t we?�� Hel kept on toying with the Vex Minotaur arm.

‘We barely made it to the cave this time. The storm isn’t passing, and it has been hours. You are hungry, I am concerned. Very concerned.’

The last sentence was soaked through with a sort of dark helplessness. Hel couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows at the ghost.

‘Okay, I hear it now. What’s the matter?’ She set the metal arm aside. ‘We agreed to talk things out, right? You’ve been awfully weird ever since---’

‘Ever since you dropped off that body?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Yes.’

The pause hung heavily over the human and her drone.

‘I heard something.’

Another pause settled. More sinister this time. Broken... by a fit of a hearty laugh?

‘Helena, really?’

‘Wh--- What do you want me to do?’ The woman quickly wiped a stray tear before it froze on her eyelash. ‘This dialogue feels very surreal. As if it came from some cheap horror novel. The next thing’s going to happen: we hear a large thud here and now. Then,’ she wiggled her fingers. ‘The zombies appear!’

‘Not funny. Not what I meant.’

‘Oh, wait! There’s a zombie here already!’ She poked herself in the chest gleefully. ‘See? No need to be all fussy. This zombie’s on your side and will give the others a run for their glimmer.’

‘I heard a chime, Hel. You know,’ Izi flew up closer to her Guardian’s face and whispered. ‘The one.’

‘Pfft, ah that,’ Helena waved it off. ‘I heard that too.’

‘What, and it doesn’t bother you? The moment you throw a corpse into a Europan crevasse, the Darkness chimes, and that is totally fine!?’

‘It chimes a lot, in many places, actually.’

The woman went back to tinkering on the Vex arm, falling silent for a short while.

‘There’s a rumour--- the chiming can be heard during Trials.’

‘No way, that can’t be--- Mm.’

‘Maybe it’s time to accept that the Darkness is closer than we think, eh?’

Hel brought her hand up and touched one of the petals on Izi’s shell, petting it.

‘Listen. If nothing bad has happened yet - nothing bad has happened yet. Don’t waste your energy on might-s and maybes. If the pyramid parks itself outside this cave - then we ask ourselves, what’s that all about? The chiming’s not a new thing. You clearly just weren’t comfortable with what I was doing and paid attention to a thing at the right moment. Thus you think it’s all connected, when in fact you’re---’

‘Mm. You are right. I do disapprove. Thank you for reminding me.’

The ghost grumbled with steely undertones and disappeared from sight, seemingly executing punishment by depriving the Guardian of its company.

Hel only shrugged calmly and continued working on disassembling the Vex remains.

‘Finally. Some peace and quiet. And a semblance of truth for a change.’

She chuckled.

[sohelish]

The Commander

He looks much smaller from afar. 

So tired, leaning against the railing for support. 

His fist crashes into the metal every now and then - a sign of frustration, impatience.

She never thought she would end up staying in the City, let alone learn to admire someone. But Commander Zavala has always been to her a man who does his job. Does it right, too, never shying away from the responsibility that comes with it.

When he tells her: he is glad that he can count on her - there is no higher praise from someone who strives to be reliable.

It might as well be a quality seal. One Hel uses freely to indulge in her own shady dealings.

He knows. He has to but pretends he doesn’t.

Oh, she’s sure he’d looked her up.

Why not do a background check on a person who’d died recently?

Or maybe he does trust her blindly. Guardians are reborn anew, after all. Clean slate.

Either way, she thinks, she’ll pay him back eventually for any bother she had caused.

She, too, strives to be reliable.

[sohelish]

‘A thought I had,’ she muttered, swirling around the contents of the bottle and smirking lightly to herself.

Not that anyone asked, to be fair.

Hel just randomly chose to muse out loud.

Maybe the alcohol was to blame.

‘About those deciphered messages. About the Traveller being a Gardener, and the Darkness entity being the Winnower.’

The pause that she held felt overly dramatic, rather theatrical.

There was something about the tension of her face, the movement of her mouth that foretold that she was about to spill out something hilarious.

‘What if they really are? A Gardener and a Winnower, I mean.’

Judging by the way her face began to contort, she was barely holding it together.

‘No, for real, what if they are someone’s intergalactic gardening AI tools that just rebelled and ran off?’

She couldn’t hold it in anymore, and the space boomed with her laughter.

‘And all this time,’ she started choking on air, bent over. Almost dropped her booze too. ‘All this time, we are worshipping! Worshipping someone’s high-tech crop dispersal equipment or something!’

[sohelish]

Icy adventures

What a neat business I got myself running here, Helena thought, making her way through the rigid ice planes of Europa.

Who would have thought that so many Guardians needed a “shadier” type of assistance?

Some wanted to learn more about their past. Others needed access to black market dealers and their wares, the Spider, for example.

Hel was happy to oblige and provide her clients with the much-needed reconnaissance or serve as the middle man.

Damn it, she even went as far as putting on a show and introducing people to the chubby Eliksni dealer - and, oh, how he adored the extra attention. How much easier it was to work with her ally after since he became more and more agreeable with each flare of pathos thrown his way.

More surprising, however, was the amount of Guardians that needed--- help... of the cleaning kind.

You’d think that the human population and the Guardians lived happily ever after. After all, the latter had sworn to protect the former and yet. Looked like it took a specific type of person to be forced to play the hero, or the older responsible sibling, if you will, and take it in a stride.

More and more Guardians fought with the mortal fellows. More and more accidents occurred--- or, perhaps, it seemed that way to Helena.

Always the most profitable cases. Often thrilling in the beginning, but when it came to the actual clean-ups...

Tedious and harsh.

She truly liked this side of her work the least. A lot of effort poured in earned her the goods and respect, but in the end, she could never give the Guardians a resolution or the peace of mind they wanted. What they actually needed was to turn back time and not lose their temper.

Hel had just disposed of one such poor outcome - a civilian body, which she’d thrown into the crevasse. Not many people would think to look in there while searching for the Last City resident, that’s for sure.

That took care of one problem for one Guardian.

Another confrontation resulted in a broken nose and hurt feelings - not too bad, it seemed. But were the news to reach Zavala’s ears, things could get ugly.

In the end, after a long negotiation and a lot of lightening the mood with jokes, the wronged side agreed not to voice their concerns and asked for parts. Vex parts.

Thus the trip to the distant moon felt proper - it allowed the fixer to get rid of one issue and deal with another.

There were more than enough Minotaurs on Europa, so Hel could harvest plenty of the specific bits.

The weather proved to be a huge problem, though. It was tough to spot the enemy during the blizzard. Plus, she had underestimated the scale of the windstorm that appeared somewhat out of nowhere. Or so she’d deemed.

Teeth gritted, she struggled to move through the deep snow, focusing on finding any cave where she could hide and wait out the extremes.

The problem was, oddly enough, she couldn’t find any, and it was getting colder and colder...

[sohelish]

Progress

Never had Helena thought that she'd be working with Ada. Not because she disliked the Exo or anything. On the contrary, it seemed that it was Ada-1 who held prejudice against the Guardians.

Frankly, Hel couldn't blame her for thinking so and not trusting the Traveller. What puzzled her was: why would anyone openly express their disdain around the people one was to work with regardless? It only created unnecessary tension and ruined any chance of finding allies.

Had Ada been less emotional and more careful, were she to ask around discreetly, she'd learn that the Guardians were prone to questioning their own way of life.

No, she did not dislike Ada, but she deemed her foolish and short-sighted. Book smart, not street smart at all.

Things have changed, however, now that she had returned with an entirely different attitude. Perhaps it was her legacy that had been weighting the woman down and, since the Forges were lost to the enemy, nothing was ruining Ada's mood anymore.

'That's not the only thing that's changed. She's also---' Hel rummaged through the laboratory looking for something to use as leverage to open a panel. 'Afraid. Subdued.'

'That might be. Still don't see why we are working with that obnoxious lady.'

Izi the ghost had been bothering her guardian about Ada all the way to the frozen Europa and more, along their adventure.

'She pays well.'

'All she does is share information on what we've already found for her.'

'Matter transformation and storage was exactly one the pillars that revolutionised the society back during the Gold Age. Really think looking into that isn't worth our time?'

'I think fighting the Vex is more in our interest.'

Hel glanced at her ghost, amused. There was some mischievous intensity about her. A healthy dose of arrogance seen only in those who knew a lot more than they were leading on.

This gave Izi the ghost pause. The grumpiness - easily forgotten, the drone was trying to put together what it knew and form a bigger picture.

'I don't get it. You think the synthesis can somehow help us fight the Vex? Why? Because... Clovis worked on it?'

'Aha!'

The woman exclaimed happily as she reached for an object that resembled a screwdriver. She then approached the masterfully hidden panel in the wall. Good thing she'd snatched up the schematics and knew exactly where to look.

She didn't say anything back to Izi, though, just peeked over her shoulder and winked, still grinning.

The ghost got nervous if a ghost ever could truly experience such a state of being.

'Say, how much of his project Clovis based on the Vex tech, do you reckon?'

'Don’t know. All of it?'

'You think it's that connected?'

Another pause followed as Helena finally ripped the panel out and revealed an intricate box full of fuses and circuitry.

'Tsk, darn it.'

It was all frozen, however.

Hel squinted, studying the contents.

'Mm, yeah, looks like this is the one Ada asked for. Let's see what we can do.'

The Guardian removed her gloves and started rubbing her hands together while breathing meditatively. She had to do it just right, using enough Light to warm up her hands but not too much so that she didn’t ruin any of the pieces inside the panel.

Having thoroughly concentrated and mentally prepared, she finally placed her hands inside the fuse box, heating and melting away the ice.

It took much effort to do this carefully but eventually, she was done with the procedure. A water puddle has formed at her feet, the pieces became free to remove.

Hel went on to do that, but she also unscrewed a few more parts just in case. Maybe she would need them, or Ada would, or perhaps she'd sell them to the Drifter or Spider.

'You think most of the technological progress was based on the Vex, don't you?'

It was as if Izi's switch was flipped, and it started chattering on again, right where they left off.

'Yeah, something like that, Flashlight.'

Hel suddenly looked and sounded very tired, shoulders slumped, her whole posture was off.

'The Vex are known for many things, time loops included and not only. Do you... Do you ever stop to think that humans become the Vex in the future? With all the connection to the Exos and how comprehensible and comfortable their tech is to you guys?'

'Future. Alternate timeline where the Traveller never arrived. Yeah, I've thought about it a lot, Izi.'

'...oh.'

A sigh.

'I didn't mean to...'

'You never do. Right now, I figure, we should learn as much about the Vex as possible. The more insight we have, the better, and anything to do with Clovis provides good insight, okay? Okay, so let's look around some more. Gather data. Sell it twice - to Ada and the Stranger. Rinse and repeat.'

‘Too bad we can’t ask that giant head of his.’

‘Yeah, at this point, it’s going to lie, whether it actually knows stuff or not, but perhaps one day? Last time I talked to him, I swear he’d warmed up to me already.

A lone narcissist, recognising a fellow lone narcissist...

Hel put the gloves back on and clapped her hands.

Something moved behind the closed doors, and aggressive chattering could be heard.

The woman reached for the gun on her heap.

'Alright. Back to work.'

[sohelish]

A small gift

The Pit of Heresy was one of the most unique places she’d ever been to. With an atmosphere so thick and potent that moving fast was a detriment unless you knew where you were going.

Many a time had Helena ventured deep into the corridors. Still, there were so many nooks and crannies to explore that she had to be extra careful in managing the rush and taking long breaks when necessary.

She paused right as she was on her way back after stalking a particularly pesky Hive Knight who’d been engaging in a weird ritual. She’d watched the creature closely from the shadows, taking note of its every move and the decisions it made, doing what Eris Morn had asked of her.

And then, after having spied sufficiently, like a complete creep - the irony! - she turned around and started on her journey upwards, which made her ghost particularly irritated.

‘I’m telling you,’ Hel sighed under her breath when she stopped to rest in a small dark alcove that would surely hide her from the passing-by Hive.

‘I’m not going to kill that Knight - no such instructions to begin with, plus, maybe we’re going to need to observe it more closely next time, who knows.’

‘Again, you leave the enemy standing.’ Izi the ghost’s shaky voice barely concealed its disappointment. ‘For what purpose? Is this a part of your brilliant “no-resurrection” theory? Haven’t you had enough of this tip-toeing? A month has passed since your last death. I have been monitoring your life signs, and nothing changed, mm? Hello? Ghost to Hel? You aren’t even listening!’

‘Shh, wait. Look over there. Do you see it?’

Farther on the other side, at the edge of a crevasse, the green glow rose from below in occasional bursts, illuminating the darker parts of the underground complex. In an odd moment, the foul light landed on something tiny and supposedly metallic in nature.

‘What? Uh? How did you... spot that?’

Helena narrowed her eyes and fell silent, clearly analysing the situation to the best of her abilities. 

After a while, she finally spoke up, sounding quite tired and rather contemplative, yet determined.

‘You know what? I do feel different. I don’t care what you think or what your data says. Now, come on. Let’s go check it out.’

She waved her hand, gesturing for the ghost to follow, and carefully exited her safe spot.

‘Hel, hold on. I think I hear heavy steps. I think an Ogre is coming---’

‘Relax,’ the woman checked her radar feed to find that, indeed, the red blip indicated an enemy was approaching. ‘Those poor bastards are pretty blind.’

She pulled up the HUD with the map to double-check the location, confirming a suspicion she'd had, before making her way to the shiny piece.

‘This one: won’t fight a Hive Knight. Will cross an Ogre’s path over a patch of reflected light!’

‘It might be more important than you realise. Just hide and get ready for the worst.’

One final glance to look around, a deep breath in to calm the nerves, a quick assessment of the terrain, and then the Guardian darted towards the edge, eyes firmly set on her target.

The Ogre’s sad wail pierced the stillness and echoed through the tunnels.

***

‘I gathered the intel you requested.’

Hel returned from the Pit, all worn and torn and covered in Hive remains. 

Ever so often, Eris would say: "the scent of the worm clings to you". However, in this situation, she failed to come up with anything. The Guardian's smell was that bad.

Therefore Eris simply scrunched her nose, turning around slightly, hoping that the present company might not notice.

‘I highly appreciate your assistance, Hunter.’

She hummed gratefully and nodded as Helena transferred all the info she’d brought.

‘Until we meet---’ 

‘There’s something---’

Both women let out awkward quiet laughs.

‘You were saying?’

‘There’s something else, Eris... that I thought might interest you.’

Having spoken those words, the Guardian began patting herself all over, almost as if she’d forgotten where she put the thing she was looking for. That was until she reached out to Eris and pretended to have pulled the trinket from behind her ear.

Hel grinned playfully, pushing a piece of a metal chain into her hand.

To a bystander, there wouldn’t have been anything special about the charm. It, most likely, used to be a part of an ornament, an attachment of some sort that fell off deep in the Hive undergrounds. Only, as soon as Helena had scarped the dirt off of some parts, she immediately recognised the design. It was very similar to the trinkets on Eris’s weapons.

Judging by the awestruck expression on the fellow woman’s face, she had been spot-on with her guess.

‘This--- this is--- It belonged to---’ Eris's voice trembled, hand firmly grasping the memento from the past.

‘Yeah, okay.’ That was her cue to get the heck out. ‘I’ve got to go. Zavala wanted me to check in on the Fallen near the Hellmouth. See you later.’

Gracing Eris with finger-guns, she swiftly turned around, intending to leave as quickly as possible.

‘Hel. Don’t---’

The pleading, caring tone made Hel’s whole soul twist, and she hesitated for a second.

‘Don’t--- die out there.’

The heaviness of the moment made the Guardian pick up the speed and retreat faster.

[sohelish]

Recording. Entry... number one?

I’ve never done something like this before and normally I’d call it a waste of my time. However, I need it.

I need this.

It has to become a thing I can rely on in the time of doubt, otherwise, I’ll go crazy. Crazier than I am, I suppose?

I’ve been experiencing an unprecedented sense of stability ever since I stopped dying. The longer I go without being resurrected - the more everything makes sense. My mind is clearer. As if I’ve been drunk the whole time and sobered up just now.

Before this, I’ve been secretly - or not entirely - engaging in the practices of Thanatonauts. Not that I was actually hiding - dying publicly in Gambit proved to be most effective. As I did it, I’ve indeed seen things, visions.

I was never adamant the things I’ve seen did happen. Either I was seeing the visions of my past, or I was simply... dreaming, I thought? But how can someone’s brain “dream” if you’re dead, huh?

That’s what made me lean towards the idea that I must’ve been seeing actual bits from my past life. There shouldn’t have been any brain activity at the moment of my death to justify any dream at all.

I’ve long spent months digging up information on my past. Which is easy when you’ve died recently. Can’t hide the City records from a Guardian who’s got influence!

I’ve managed to confirm some things from my visions but only a few.

Then I looked into it all some more and eventually, I think, I’ve figured out something rather... unsettling.

Yeah, the Traveller speaks to people through dreams - this has been relatively known. Ikora guided many of us towards Io through her dreams, hasn’t she.

The Traveller is not interested in telling us who we were, though. It doesn’t show us visions it “guides” us towards goals.

If I were to assume, then, that my visions were real, but the Traveller does not grant such visions...

I believe I’ve been contacted by the Darkness - no, the Entity that grants the Darkness.

I’ve been in contact with it all this damn time and it has been showing me exactly what I wanted to see, true or not. Perhaps, it restored parts of my memories. Perhaps, it embellished some of those so I’d be satisfied with what I’ve learned.

Nobody knows this but...

I had a “dream” once after I got stepped on by the Primeval. Yeah, funny, I know - insert a kink joke here. 

Ugh. I tried to stay serious, I really did.

Anyway. I died and I saw nothing. Nothingness, rather. The void.

However, I heard strange crackling noises. Deep, echoing, and quite familiar.

At first, I couldn’t put my finger on it, but then I remembered that I know these noises well.

I’ve heard them before on Io, in the grove of Ulan-Tan - which is exactly why I went there. Chased away the Vex that were camping inside. Okay, okay, I slaughtered them, let’s be honest.

I sat there, in the deep, and I meditated listening to the same noises I heard after... during my death.

Suspense... and... 

Nothing happened!

I left, shrugged it off. Had a nice rest in the grove, though.

Some “me” time.

The next thing I knew, the Darkness had arrived. It’d arrived on Io as we all remember now. It made its first contact with us near the grove of Ulan-Tan.

I don’t know what to think. Really.

The human mind is tricky that way, it looks at patterns all around and assumes there’s a connection between the things that might be random.

Correlation doesn't equal causation.

And yet.

I practised death. I heard the sounds of the grove in a “death-dream.” I was lead to the grove of none other than Ulan-Tan!

The dude was a known Symmetrist, okay? He said stuff like: the Light and the Darkness are connected, the Darkness is a necessary force, both must exist together. Oh, and, wasn’t he adamant that the Light broke the laws of time and space?

Assuming the Light can, can’t the Darkness do it too? Can’t it tap into your dead mind and show you stuff?

The Traveller speaks to us through dreams.

The Entity - through death visions. Huh, why not?

It’s only an assumption. I might be wrong, but here I am.

I’ve always said I want nothing to do with the Darkness. I don’t care for it. The Light is already a burden, a gift I didn’t ask for, a gift I’ve been studying how to return all this time.

Now, I realise the Darkness might’ve been talking to me, offering things, and I’ve been accepting them unknowingly.

...

I hate this. I hate the idea of this, but I might be in too deep now.

I feel like it said “hello” with a pat on my shoulder when it guided me to the grove, and I fell for it like a sucker. Heh.

...

Eris had a falling out with Zavala and went to Europa to support the Stranger and her Stasis research.

I’m afraid I have to join in as well even as I did my best to stay away.

Pft, yeah, right! Didn’t do shit. Not really.

...

I sent my ghost away so I could record this without it watching... listening.

Izi doesn’t know why I strive not to die all of a sudden. It thinks I’m being cool and eccentric.

I want to leave it that way.

I want Izi to think I’m just being curious, as always.

Not that I sold myself out to the Darkness long ago because I wanted to know who I was.

So. Fucking. Stupid.

But, deep breath. No use to dwell on it now.

This isn’t the time to assign blame. That’s not going to help me, just waste my time.

I can only try and learn as much I possibly can, then maybe fix this state I’m in.

I’m only human... zombie, after all.

I’ll share more of my findings as I go along.

And I’ll try to keep it more professional, but... the only valid way you can say goodbye to a recording is:

Audio-s!

[sohelish]

Moments of freedom

[One]

She’s walking through probably the most beautiful terrain she’d ever seen. The surreal colours are shifting all around her as if dancing. A hot gush of wind caresses her face and, in return, she touches the land with her ungloved fingers the moment she leans over to pick up a stray Baryon Bough.

These aren’t exactly flowers per se, they are a valuable source of matter, yet, still, they form a beautiful bouquet in her hands.

Hel chooses to walk straight ahead at the next junction, mesmerised with taking in the sights so much so she doesn’t notice the crunching sound of the Hive chitin under her feet at first. Then, it becomes a part of the enchanting melody complimenting the surrounding world and she smiles widely.

One of the fellow guardians must have passed through this lane. How sweet of them it was to clear a path for her lovely walk.

[Two]

In her opinion, the Tangled shore is easily one of the greatest places to be, just due to the simple fact that everything around her is a shade of purple - one of her favourite colours.

Too bad that it’s so hostile more often than not and she has to fight her way through hoards of enemies every time she sets her foot there.

Sure, she has dealings with the Spider but, even so, some of his Eliksni associates attack her anyway. 

It’s all a misunderstanding, he says then. You are my favourite.

All the bullshit that makes her laugh at him and secretly pity...

Here she is, fighting yet another bunch of Fallen. Only this time, they don’t look like they belong to any fraction.

Hel ventures into the lower levels, looking forward to exploring the caverns and they ambush her but, unfortunately for them, she kills bigger pray as a way to blow off some steam. She takes them out in a stride until only one Servitor remains. Wounded, it hides behind a cover almost as if it hopes she wouldn’t see it. However, it lacks the ‘patience’ and proceeds to float away.

She takes off her helmet, for some reason, thinking it’d help her see it better. Izi the ghost protests in the back of her mind but she shuts it down.

For a whole moment, she is all alone with the damn machine that ‘stares’ at her.

Then it starts moving.

It’s getting away---!

Hel shuts Izi down again. Luckily so, because most of the time it’s too hard of a feat to achieve.

She lets the Servitor go.

Her ghost materializes on her shoulder.

Hel feels its judging weight.

[Three]

The rainstorm takes her by surprise in the EDZ.

Hel has always loved the rain, however, this time the pour is so strong it completely impairs visibility. She is too close to the Cabal base and the desire not to ‘slip up’ on wet terrain and get caught outweighs any potential fun she could have if she were to choose to splash around.

Getting old, she thinks, setting camp in the near-by cave and carefully lighting the fire with a flash of her solar light. Guarded... serious.

She used to be more daring with her approach to dying. Now Hel believes the longer she stays alive without a resurrection -- the better.

At least she gets some idea of who she is because she gets to exist in the same corporal state for a while. The cases of her waking up at night unable to recognise herself in her own body slowly decline the less she falls in battle.

She sits down at the edge of the cave, further from the warmth of the fire. Lets her boots peek outside, and finds odd joy in the sound of the raindrops against them.

Somewhere not too far away she hears the Cabal officers barking orders at each other. They’re not as loud as Shaxx of course but maybe some of them could compete.

She chuckles.

The storm is harsh yet they are doing their routine rounds and patrols around the base even though it’s totally pointless. Technically she could walk right past them and steal an Interceptor.

Mindless drones, she sighs and dives into a sudden wave of existentialism. At least I’m freer than them.

But how much more is it, exactly, to be just a little freer? Only a smidge?