Sector Delta One Three
Colony station “Sycamore”
December 25th 2235
5:35am
Madalyn sipped absent-mindedly at the mug of cocoa that rested on the table in front of her. Old Christmas songs played in the background, rattling through the worn-out speakers that lined the walls of the small, twenty-four-hour coffee shop. This had become her regular haunt since arriving back from her latest shop job a few weeks ago. It wasn’t popular, nor was it particularly fancy, but they made the best hot cocoa she’d ever tasted and was often empty and quiet.
Today was no exception – although she’d expected that. It was early in the morning – the artificial daylight hadn’t even been switched on, so they were technically still in “night mode”. She was alone in the shop, save for the young man at the counter, who was tidying up and mopping the floor. It appeared that they hadn’t expected anyone in so early on Christmas morning; if the man’s reaction when Madalyn walked in was anything to go by.
‘Blue hair!’ he had greeted her. That was how many people knew her – the ones who saw her frequently enough to remember her, that is. ‘You must really like your cocoa,’ he commented, as a bleary-eyed Madalyn had ordered her usual. ‘That, or you must really hate sleep’.
‘Both,’ Madalyn had replied, a small half-smile crossing her face for the first time in a long while. It was very rare that anyone spoke to her – people on Sycamore Station were friendly, but very independent, and that was why she liked it so much. Few people ever stuck around long enough to make friends, or even for anyone to learn their name. Madalyn only had another two weeks until she herself would be off again, on another Fleet shop job, taking cargo to some distant colony she’d never heard of before. She was toying with the idea of returning here afterwards – so far, this was the only place that offered her the friendliness she needed and the anonymity she craved.
She’d returned to New Manhattan after her first job, but she’d soon learned that in her absence, things had changed. Although her parents tried to convince her that things hadn’t changed – apparently it was Madalyn who was different now -, Madalyn just didn’t feel like she belonged there. The colony that had been her home, and defined her personality so much for nineteen years, no longer held a place in her heart. She couldn’t think of it as home; home had become an alien concept to her. As soon as she thought she was settling down somewhere, she’d be uprooted yet again, moving from Fleet job to station, to colony, to shuttle – every time she tried to make attachments, she was torn away from them.
That was what she liked about Sycamore. No-one hung around long enough to get attached to anyone else. Even those who called it home had a tendency to keep themselves to themselves – being friendly and polite, but never making the effort to learn about others, because they’d only forget it as soon as the person inevitably moved on. It was strange, but Madalyn was beginning to feel like Sycamore offered more adventure and discovery than the Fleet.
So far, her experience of the Fleet had not been what she was expecting. When she’d graduated as an ensign, she hadn’t expected her first assignment to be to cargo haulage. After that, she’d expected the second job to be better – or at least the third? Time after time, she’d been disappointed. Living on Sycamore Station was a completely different experience. New people arrived at the station every day, and other people left. The population and demographics constantly changed – sometimes they’d have an influx of young families, sometimes they’d be all young, ambitious kids like Madalyn, other times it’d be businessmen stopping over on their way to conferences on the bigger colonies. Places like this coffee shop were permanent, a fixture that could always be relied on – as was the supply of their amazing cocoa.
