Dreams
31 Oct 2024Medea Areto
I dreamed of green pastures again. Of azure skies that drip into meadows speckled with flowers and shimmering lakes. This time I swear I could feel the warm breeze on my skin. No matter how much time I spend in the chilled darkness of space, the dreams will always return. I suspect it might be the innate curse of anyone planet born and raised. Maybe it is something that is deeply rooted inside our brains, a voice that tells us that we weren't made for the vast eternity of space travel. Every journey I've embarked on so far has eventually haunted me with a moment where the need to set foot onto an earth-like planet and to smell the fresh air turns from a fleeting thought into an incessantly burning need, like an itch in the back of my throat that I cannot quite get rid of.
I wonder if some of my crew members who are the children of spaceports, of perpetual low gravity and the distant echoing of flight control announcements, dream of lying down on a patch of grass on a warm summer afternoon too.
Wouldn't that be an outrageously silly question to ask.
The air that filled my lungs as I breathed in, slowly waking up from my unruly sleep, had the distinct aftertaste that only a spaceship oxygen filter can produce. It's been one week since my fleet carrier left the safe havens of the Empire, around 4 months since I last set foot onto a planet of any kind. After arduous years of work and the contributions of more than a few generous patrons, I finally had been able to register the fleet carrier TLX-N6J "LLV Hesperus" in my name. This journey was the proud vessel's maiden voyage, a small round trip to the Retina Nebula and back, to see if the ship and the admittedly rather small crew had what it takes to eventually brave maddeningly long ventures towards undiscovered shores. Sitting in the Commander's seat so far has been as exhilarating as it was nerve wrecking, the memories of the last few days at the helm enough to make me blink open my eyes hastily and endure the burning sting of the way too bright artificial lights in my cabin.
Nothing a cup of coffee can't fix.