Chapter 4 part 5

###Warm Aspirations in Frozen Landscape

You might say that for someone so adamantly opposed to it, I'm taking on a high-risk mission for the sake of a warm water bath.  

And you'd be right. Absolutely, embarrassingly right. The risks and benefits are laughably uneven, and I’m well aware of how ridiculous this is. Laugh all you want—label me a foolish spacer, a desperate wanderer of the stars. I won't deny it.  

But a warm water bath? That’s the kind of luxury I can’t replicate on my own, not even in my wildest daydreams.  

If I were living in some utopian habitat pod near a pristine water source on a carefully terraformed planetoid—with no xeno predators lurking and infinite resources at my disposal—then maybe I could indulge in regular baths. But out here? In this cold, resource-starved corner of the galaxy? That’s fantasy on the level of ancient starlore.  

Even the advanced systems of this sector fall short. There’s no techno-magic miracle providing unlimited water purification for casual use, no ever-heated grav-wells generating luxurious cycles of warm liquid bliss. What we have instead are sonic cleansers and ionic radiation stations—efficient, sure, but soulless. 

Most spacers consider them a luxury. Many don’t even bother, content to reek of engine grease, recycled synth-alcohol, and the sterile hum of their ship’s life support systems.  

Me? I’m just a step above them. I scrape together enough credits to buy cycles in private sterilization stations. Even that much makes you regarded as obsessive-compulsive in this sector.

As for the public decontamination stations.. They’re nightmares. With no proper filtration or circulation systems, the “water” is more contaminant than cleanser. Every time you step in, you risk coming out worse than when you entered. Gross doesn’t even begin to cover it.  

Sure, there are private warm water baths available at high-ranking pleasure stations reserved for nobles, but… yeah, no. One dip there would burn through months of my earnings, and that’s *if* I somehow avoided attracting the kind of attention that ends with a laser pistol at your temple.  

So when Moona offered me two cycles in an honest-to-stars warm water bath—complete with full gravity regulation and proper water filtration—I was done for. Completely hooked.  

Out here, water is life. It’s a precious resource reserved for food, drinking, and even starship fuel in emergencies. 

The idea of filling a chamber with it just to soak your body is seen as obscene—a waste only the wealthy and insane can afford. 

Couple that with the energy cost of running the grav-regulators at full capacity to keep the water from floating off? It’s no wonder baths are practically a myth in this sector.  Even as a spacer with decent engineering skills, I could never build a system like that myself. 

Not out here. Not without sinking into debt so deep I’d need a wormhole to crawl out of.  

So yes, I took the mission. I’m not proud of it, but I’ve made peace with my decision.  

"Well, counting on you today."

"...It's still before stellar dawn you know."

The day of the mission arrived, and I found myself standing before the sleek bulk of the *Diana* crew starship, its dark hull glinting faintly under the distant starlight.  

Lunar greeted me at the airlock, already suited up and looking far too composed for the ungodly hour.  

“Morning, Narwhal,” she said. 

“Heard you’re all fired up over a warm bath?”  

“It’s important to me,” I replied. “Cycling through a proper chamber three or four times in my life is the dream.”  

“Three or four, huh? You’re inflating the number already. I heard Moona had to bargain you down to two.”  

“Details.”  

The truth is, I never expected to step foot on a vessel like this, let alone casually banter with Diana’ leader. The *Diana* crew starship was the kind of ship you admire from a distance, the kind of ship you mutter, “They must be loaded,” as it passes by in orbit.  

"...You're wearing a neural-dampening cap, not a full helm?"  

"Oh, this?" I tapped the sleek, dark material encasing part of my skull. "Yeah. Only need to mask a fraction of my glowy genetic markers for this mission, so I went with what deep-space hunters swear by. No chance I'm wearing a metal helm in a cold planet."  

Winter across Loki's dwarf planet was harsh, but not in the suffocating, airless way one might expect. Loki’s atmosphere was surprisingly good—some even said it's better than old earth, with just the faintest trace of exotic gases in the mix. Breathing there didn’t require artificial filtration, and even on the coldest days, oxygen levels remained stable. Turning on life support systems was an unnecessary drain on resources, especially for a guild like Diana that prided itself on energy efficiency.  

Metal, however, was the real challenge in these conditions. Even with Loki’s good breathable air, the temperatures could drop so low that metallic equipment turned into ice traps. Exo-suits and alloy-based armor became liabilities, their thermal conductivity working against you. I'd even heard stories of station workers complaining their exo-boots locked up mid-shift, the neural ports freezing so badly the entire interface had to be restarted.  

I preferred lighter gear—environmental layers made from synthetic leather reinforced against temperature extremes. Of course, that meant relying on extra protection, which came in the form of my compact energy shield. Portable, reliable, and leagues better than being weighed down by cold metal.  

"I wonder if that stellar dynasty heir plans to show up decked out in full combat armor," I mused aloud.  

Lunar smirked. "Hah! No one's that reckless... right?"  

"Hopefully not. If she does, though, and collapses from thermal shock, we’re aborting early. Not my problem if her noble house wants to throw credits into the void."  

"...You're seriously treating a dynasty heir like this? What if the patriarch files a grievance later?"  

"You worry too much," Lunar said, waving me through the airlock. "Trust the guild’s backing, Narwhal. Diana doesn’t walk on thin quantum ice—we walk with gravity stabilizers cranked to max."  

Lunar opened the airlock and beckoned me in.

"We'll join up with Stella at the guild station, then head out from there. Let's have a strategy meeting inside first. Well, it's nothing major."

She led me inside the Diana crew’s starship, its halls alive with the hum of pre-expedition preparation. 

The central hub, located near the ship’s thermal generator, was already bustling. Diana crew members milled about, finalizing equipment checks.  

Lunar, Moona, Goressa, Yunikon, Aioi, and Mamu—six of them, plus me, made seven.  

Mamu stood out, her easy laughter ringing through the chamber as she adjusted the long-range sensors. A veteran in her late thirties, she split her time between internal systems maintenance and taking care of her children back on the ship. Diana, it seemed, operated as much as a daycare substitute as it did a guild crew.

I see, so that's why I keep seeing the same members despite their numbers.  

"Easy mission, Only a single solar cycle to wrap this up. Perfect work for semi-retired members like me."  

 Mamu said, grinning at me.

...Maybe I was overthinking things.  

"Vanguard will be Goressa, with Stella assisting her," Lunar announced, cutting through the chatter. "Middle guard is Mamu and me. Rear guard is Aioi, Yunikon, and Moona. Narwhal, you’re watching the backline."  

So, I was stationed opposite Stella. I may rush out to engage if something happens ahead but...

But it is fine—nothing was likely to happen on the dwarf planet.  

"We’re counting on you, Mr. Narwhal," Aioi quipped, adjusting her gear.  

"Let’s hope nothing happens that needs guarding," I replied, patting the compact shield at my side.  

"Mr Narwhal, didn’t know you carried energy shields."  

"Oh, this? Hardly use it, but thought I’d bring it, just in case. My other one’s bulkier and not great for planetary missions."  

"First time hearing you own another shield."  

"It’s a nice one. Maybe I’ll show you sometime."  

"Why’re you so smug about it...?"  

With that, our formation was finalized. All that remained was meeting the dynasty heir herself.  

The guild station's main hall gleamed under faint luminescence, and in its center stood Stella, clad in metallic exo-plating from head to toe. Her armor caught the light, refracting in sharp lines—a symbol of her noble blood.  

"I am Stella, Iron Rank," she announced, her voice cutting clean through the room. "My specialty is energy blade combat. However, I have yet to encounter xeno-beastic entities in live combat. Thus, I accompany you today for training. I vow not to hinder Diana during the mission. Please treat me well."  

I silently admired her composure. For a noble heir, she was unexpectedly humble. 

Still, I had doubts. Would that armor hold up against the bitter cold? Loki’s surface was unforgiving, and the trek ahead was long.  

Lunar stepped forward, her tone clipped and professional. "Welcome, Stella. As a novice member, you are expected to follow Diana’ instructions without deviation."  

Though she played the role of an overbearing guild leader, Lunar’s bluntness felt appropriate. A dynasty heir or not, Stella was just another recruit in her eyes.  

Meanwhile, I'll avoid speaking as much as possible to avoid complaints later.

"Understood," Stella replied with a formal bow. "Please correct me as needed. I lack field experience."  

"Good. And if unforeseen circumstances arise, we will abort the mission immediately."  

"You mean such as an encounter with a xeno-beastic entity resulting in injuries?"  

"Precisely."  

With that, we began our travel toward Loki dwarf planet’s surface.  

Walking under the star-speckled sky, introductions came quickly—just names and titles. Stella, for her part, didn’t seem interested, offering only a polite, "Please treat me well." She was quiet, though not unpleasant—an easy companion on a trek like this.  

Occasionally, I caught fragments of her conversation with Goressa and Mamu. From what I could gather, it centered on possible xeno-beastic threats and combat techniques.  

Despite barging in, she has a decently serious personality apparently.

"mister," Aioi whispered in our private channel, falling in step beside me. "I haven’t done much winter trekking in Loki terrain. What’re the xeno-beastic patterns this cycle?"  

"None," I muttered back.  

"...None? Really?"  

"Loki in winter is practically a dead zone. The xeno-beastic lifeforms either hibernate or retreat so deep into the crust, they’re unreachable. Anything that didn’t find shelter would’ve perished long before now."  

"Seriously...? So any entities that failed to hibernate..."

"So, no chance of encounters at all?"  

"That's true, nothing comes out in winter." 

"Guess that's really how it is..."

"Not unless you’re the luckiest hunter alive. This terrain’s emptier than a drifting cargo barge."  

With an atmosphere as rich as this one, the lack of life was an eerie contrast. You could breathe freely, yet all around was a void of sound—no predators, no prey. Just frost-coated rocks and miles of frozen terrain.  

Loki in winter was emptiness incarnate. That void of life, combined with its eerily perfect air, made it unsettling.  

Still, for the sake of that elusive warm water bath, I’d endure it. 

"Let’s face this cold together, Stella," I murmured to myself. "Stellar ascetic training it is..."