AN: 11 Advanced Chapters on my Patreon.
https://www.patreon.com/cw/Crimson_Reapr
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Mark shifted the position he was in and bent down to pick up Anahrin with as much care as possible. He hooked his arms under the alien's shoulder and under his knees, but even with the superhuman physique he had, the Strathari's weight betrayed the frail and thin appearance it had.
"Shit, Ani! You gotta go on a fuckign diet sometime," Mark said as he let Anahrin down, opting to pull him across the cold floor instead.
It took him a good 10 minutes to drag the Strathari all the way from the simulation room to the medical chamber he had been using as a room. He dragged Anahrin to the Dais that had been furnished with a soft 5-inch mattress for comfort, tightened his jaw as he lifted the heavy alien and lay him onto the mattress.
Mark let out a heavy sigh, his breathing ragged from the effort he had just made. "Jesus fuck, Ani. Talk about things not always being what they seem."
The Starthari's long body just barely fit into the dais, his arm resting limply at his sides, fingers twitching ever so often as if they were still typing commands on the console. His breathing was stable, even if it sounded as if he was struggling to get the air in his lungs.
Mark sat on the edge of the dais, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly together to the point that his knuckles blanched, and his head bowed down as if he were in prayer. His right leg was bouncing up and down restlessly, his heel tapping the floor with no specific rhythm. Every so often, Mark forced himself to stop moving by pressing his palm against his thigh, only for the tic to switch sides to his left leg.
He tried taking his mind off Anahrin's current state, instead thinking about the reactor and how Anahrin had managed to fix all of the flaws it still had within a single night. But the sight of Anahrin lying on the floor would pull him back into the moment, and he'd look over in hopes of finding the Starthari awake, but nothing had changed.
"You were doing just fine enough," Mark whispered. His voice was tight, as if anger and sadness were battling for control. "How the hell did you just collapse one day. Sure, you weren't in your best state, but man, you didn't look like you'd keel over and-" He stopped speaking and pressed his fists into his eyes until stars and shrieks of lightning flashed in his vision.
He wanted to yell out, to rage at the situation. He had grown to love the alien as a friend, and seeing him lying so fragile on the dais only worked to piss him off even more. So, instead, he leaned forward and started to rock back and forth in nervousness.
Hours slipped by in the blink of an eye, Mark's mind drowned in a bunch of thoughts, of what ifs, of what to do with the Ship, what name to give her. He'd stand suddenly and pace around the chamber, muttering equations under his breath in an attempt to make his mind focus on something else, only to stop and check on Anahrin's pulse with trembling fingers to make sure he was still alive. Then he'd sit again, pressing the heel of his hand into his knee to the point that it would ache in an attempt to bleed the restless energy out of himself, but now wanting to leave Anahrin's side, not now.
He chewed the inside of his lip, the taste of iron creeping in as his rocking grew faster and more impatient.
"Just wake up, man," he whispered hoarsely, his eyes red. "Come on, Ani, just wake up and yell at me for not checking my ratios. Or laugh at me for running the same damn sim three times in a row expecting different results. Anything. I don't care what it is, man, just move or say something."
However, the only response Mark got was a heavy silence that was accompanied by the faint rasp of Anahrin's lungs and the occasional twitch of his long and slender fingers.
Mark slumped forward, resting his forehead against the edge of the mattress as his hands grabbed onto the bedding so hard that the fabric started to tear slightly under his nails. He wasn't sure when his body had begun to shake or if it could be attributed to rage, exhaustion, dread, or fear. But it didn't matter as a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob broke free from within him.
"You know," he said, his voice muffled by the bedding, "once the system quit on me, I didn't even think I'd make it past a month if I rationed correctly. And, hell, I didn't even make it a few hours before I pretty much killed myself. I remember falling and just thinking 'this is it,' that I- that my story simply wasn't meant to be. Thinking that I was just going to fade into nothingness, another nobody just like I was on earth, well, maybe not so much of a nobody in this life. But seeing as they didn't even send rescue crews, I guess I really was a nobody in this life, too. And then I hit the water, and everything went black for me. Thinking about it now, that was the lowest moment of my life. I was in so much pain for what felt like hours, just waiting to die. And then your slender ass appeared out of nowhere." He chuckled. "Oh, you crazy bastard, saving another alien race that could have ill intentions towards you, and then making me better than I was. Shit, I didn't think I'd survive that fall, let alone become a Starship Engineer and build a ship from scratch." Mark's throat tightened as he paused for a second. "I made you a promise, damn it, I made you a promise. So, don't you dare fucking leave before you see her fly."
The day dragged on, and the sun had fallen, accompanied by the night, but Mark was too focused on Anahrin to notice the changes outside of the factory. But exhaustion was the only thing Mark couldn't ignore as he felt it overtake him. His body had burned itself out with all the thinking and all the nervous ticking, and before he knew it, his eyes crossed and his eyelids slowly closed. Sleep took him without a fight.
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The soft hum of the dais and the soft snoring of Mark were the only sounds that filled the air. Anahrin slowly stirred awake, his eyes fighting to flutter open, his eyelids feeling inexplicably heavy as the world swam into his view in patches of shadows and muted lights. The air was thick in his lungs with every breath becoming a heavier task than the previous, but he was awake.
His head slowly turned to his left, where he saw Mark, head tilted backwards awkwardly, face slacked with exhausted sleep. The human's hand still gripped the edge of the mattress, as if trying to hold onto Anahrin himself.
A faint warmth tugged at Anahrin's chest. He had never asked for companionship, expecting to die alone after the cataclysmic event that had led to the downfall of his people. Even if he hoped he would be rescued and cured, he was also at peace with dying. But here was this human, a man from a race that was technically younger than he himself was, clinging onto him like a station clings onto a docked ship.
With effort that caused his vision to blur, Anahrin lifted his hand. It trembled violently, his strength all but gone now, but he forced it forward until his long fingers brushed against Mark's shoulder.
The touch had been extremely light, Anahrin barely able to exude any pressure, but it was enough.
Mark stirred almost instantly, jerking awake. His eyes blinked open, confusion washing over his face momentarily before his eyes locked onto Anahrin's.
"Huh? Ani?" Mark's voice cracked as he sat up so fast he nearly fell off the chair he was on. "You- you're awake? You're awake!"
Anahrin's lips twitched in what might have been a smile, his throat burning as he managed a raspy "Barely."
Mark laughed, but his laugh was strangled and shaky. Relief poured out of him in a flood that he couldn't contain. His hands hovered over Anahrin, unsure whether to grip his shoulders, his arms, or anything at all, afraid that applying any sort of pressure might cause him pain.
"You, man, you fucking scared the shit out of me," Mark said, his voice trembling. "You- you were out all day, and I- I thought you were-" Mark cut himself off, swallowing hard as his leg bounced uncontrollably. He rocked back and forth, unable to stop the nervous energy from spilling out.
Anahrin's eyes, those shiny, glowing blue eyes, studied him, though their shine had dimmed exponentially. "And yet... here you are."
"Of course I'm here!" Mark snapped, immediately softening as he raised a hand and pressed it against his brow. "Man, where else would I go? You're-" Mark's words trailed off again, his mouth failing to make a sound as his throat tightened.
Anahrin exhaled slowly, the sound closer to a sigh than to a breath. His hand, still trembling, once again reached out towards Mark, resting lightly on his knee. The contact was light, almost weightless, but it helped steady Mark.
The silence between them wasn't empty as unspoken words were shards between the two - Words of gratitude, frustration, fear, and loyalty. Mark finally calmed down, his rocking slowing and the nervous tic ceasing.
A smile broke free on Mark's face as he spoke, "You've got to lose some weight, man. Carrying you felt like carrying a ton of bricks."
A soft chuckle escaped Anahrin's lips. "Oh.. I've got to lose weight?"
Mark's smile only widened as he spoke. "Yeah, you do, fucking weight a ton..." Mark trailed off, and his smile faded. "I made you a promise, a promise I intend to keep. You'll see her fly, even if I have to haul your heavy ass into the bridge."
Anahrin's lips curved faintly, his eyes closing again, though this time it was from trust.
"I've thought of a name for her," Mark said, prompting Anahrin to open his eyes again.
"Have you now?" Anahrin mustered.
"Yes," Mark said softly. "I'm thinking of calling her 'Strathos' Shepherd.' What do you think?"
Anahrin's lips quivered as a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. His voice was a strained whisper as he spoke. "The mighty Strathos' Shepherd... hmmm, quite the name. You honor me, and most of all, you honor my kind. But, are you sure you want to carry the weight of our end?"
Mark exhaled as he leaned forward, his hand gripping Anahrin's. "Remember how you had told me that knowledge was a burden when you first offered to teach me? Well, I don't see this as a weight or a burden, Ani. To be honest with you, this is more of an... an inheritance. You gave me more than a second chance, and you know far more about me than I'll ever know about you. But you also gave me a doorway to purpose. Strathos' Shepherd is as much the beginning of my legacy as it is the end of yours, and being the last one left to remember you, it is only fitting for me to take on the mantle of herding your people's legacy."
Anahrin closed his eyes for a few seconds, his breath rattling in his chest as a cough threatened to break free. He opened his eyes again and looked up at the ceiling of the chamber, his voice hoarse as he spoke. "Purpose... yes. It is what so many creatures seek, especially both our kinds, though your memories showed me that humans crave it. I guess you are right, my people left physical legacies, gates that humanity questions the origins of, who planets, and towers that stretched to the vastness of space. Yet of those, I believe only the gates remain. Legacy is not a physical copy or proof of existence, but the hands onto which it passes."
Mark frowned slightly. "I see... everything you taught me is your legacy then. Reminds me of a song that once said a man could be dead, but his ideas would remain."
Anahrin's lips twitched into the faintest smile. "Yes, physical legacies are meaningless. They'll disappear in time, no matter how future-proof we make them." He coughed, a dry rattle that caused Mark's chest to tighten. "I think we've reached the point of teaching you the makings of a leader, at least to the level that I held. What do you say? Time for one last lesson?"
Mark smiled bitterly as he nodded, prompting Anahrin to go into lecture mode, no matter how much discomfort or pain it caused him.
"I want you to pay attention to this, Mark. Building ships, developing weapons, making advances in science, leading ships in war, all of those are one thing. But building a company, surrounding yourself with people willing to follow you, not into a battlefield, but in your ideals..." Anahrin paused to catch his breath. "Having people willing to follow your ideals and your vision, that is another thing entirely. Leading people away from death is much different from leading people into a better quality of life."
Mark nodded, taking Anahrin's words to heart.
"You want to know what makes a good leader outside of the military life? It's not power, it's not strength, it's not fear, he'll, it's not even brilliance. What makes a leader is their ability to make others better in their presence and in their absence. People must feel safe enough to fail, to learn, and to argue with you without the terror of consequences. That is how loyalty grows."
Mark frowned at Anahrin, a clear rift in beliefs displaying itself. "Safe to argue with me without consequences? That just sounds like a surefire way to get yourself kicked out of your own company. A mutiny waiting to happen."
Anahrin chuckled faintly while shaking his head. "No, mutiny does not come from the expression of ideas. Rather, it comes from the lack of them. When people stop talking, when they swallow in their doubts and thoughts, they turn bitter. They turn violent. But when they are able to converse with you freely, they become invested. Letting them speak, and most importantly, listening to what they have to say, even if you hate what you hear, is how you keep people on your side. That's how you maintain loyalty, by showing interest and a willingness to exchange ideas even when you find them ridiculous. It shows them that you care."
Mark's right leg started to bounce again, though at a slower tempo. "Okay, I can understand that, not being a tyrant. That's slightly different from the Navy, where people cannot question orders unless they want a heavy reprimand."
Anahrin nodded at Mark's understanding. "Yes. Respect is not demanded from those who follow you. It needs to be earned. But you don't earn it through grand speeches or through massive paychecks. No. You earn it with consistency in your character. You share and give credit where credit is due, you take blame for your failures, and you show them that you see them just as they see you, as another human being. You demonstrate that you are no better than they are, that you're only their boss, but that's it. Don't put yourself on a pedestal, because if you do things right, then they will be the ones to put you on it. That's how you get people to follow your ideals."
Silence lingered between the two of them as Mark took mental notes of Anahrin's advice.
Anahrin closed his eyes, as if reminiscent of the past. "These are the words my father told me when I opened this very factory all those years ago. He said 'Though you stand at the head, those who work for you are not tools to be wielded as you please. They are souls, they have aspirations, they have dreams, they have goals, just like you do. Treat them as you would treat yourself, and you will not only be obeyed, you will be followed, maybe even adored.'"
Mark nodded again, his eyes seemingly lost, as if he was engraving the very words into his brain. "I... I don't know if I'll be any good at it, Ani. But... I'll try."
Ananrhin smiled as his eyes closed slowly. "That's all a good leader ever does. They try, fail, learn, and try again... I'm tired, I want to rest now..."
Mark forced a bitter smile as he watched Anahrin fall asleep, his raspy breathing falling into a rhythm.
Mark then stood up from the chair he had sat on, making his way out of the chamber, feeling more at peace now that Anahrin had awoke and chatted with him for a while.
He made his way to the simulation room, downloading the data of the working reactor into a tablet, the same tablet Anahrin had used these past months to control the drones.
Once he was done, he went to the room that housed the 3-meter by 3-meter nanoprinter and controlled the drones to help him move it close to the 8-meter by 8-meter nanoprinter. Once it had been moved, he turned both of them on and started to feed them materials, waiting an hour before he started moving on to the next step.
Mark was moving like a man on a mission, a resilient machine that was now on an even tighter time crunch. He uploaded the schematics to both of the printers, utilizing the bigger of the two to print the larger parts required for the reactor and the smaller printer for the smaller parts.