The coffee steam hovered thickly beneath the buzzing fluorescent tubes overhead, casting blue shadows over the metal tables. The coffee shop of the Eclipse base overflowed with voices, heavy boots, technical chatter, and forced laughter.
It was peak hour, and Angelica barely had time to breathe between one order and the next.
"Three synth-lattes and one foam-free bio-espresso for table fifteen!" shouted one of the cooks from the bar, passing the steaming cups with rehearsed movements.
"I'm on it," Angelica murmured, gliding between customers with the tray balanced as if it were an extension of her arm.
Her platinum blonde hair, tied in a high ponytail, shimmered under the artificial lights as though it reflected each pulse of energy from the ceiling. Her pale skin, speckled with faint freckles, looked almost translucent under the bluish glow. She wore the base's standard dark uniform, though she had discreetly personalized it: a golden insignia on the lapel, not belonging to service staff, and a small rabbit-shaped pin near the collar. Small details, yes, but unusual enough to stand out. No one said anything. Or rather, no one with enough authority in the coffee shop dared to.
She had a presence that was hard to ignore. Even amid the noise, her height and posture made her stand out among passing soldiers. Her eyes, an intense electric blue, resembled the condensed plasma of next-gen weapons: cold, deep, almost unnatural. She wasn't just beautiful. She was magnetic. There was something in the way she moved, responded, even in her silences, that clashed with the role she played in that place.
On one of the wall-mounted screens, the Alliance news broadcasted a live urgent update. The anchor's voice was clear and emotionless, and the red background signaled severity, though it was barely audible amid the cafeteria noise.
"Just a few hours ago, the radical group Reborn simultaneously attacked two government-level beta facilities. At the Halion base, no survivors have been reported—the installations were reduced to ashes. However, the second base, at Thalmoor, was partially defended thanks to the rapid intervention of three response squads..."
Angelica walked past the screen without stopping. She heard just enough to feel that familiar knot in her chest.
For a moment, she wished the hot coffee she was carrying could also burn away that sensation.
Unfortunately for her, she wasn't the only one who heard the news.
"Angie, wasn't that the mission your squad went on?" asked Anya, one of her shift mates, stacking dirty plates behind the bar.
Angelica didn't look at her right away. She finished serving the orders with a rehearsed smile and returned with the empty tray.
"Which one? Thalmoor?"
"Yeah. I heard some of our groups were involved. Sounded important enough to call in the elite squad. Why didn't you go with them?"
She hesitated for a second. Then she shrugged.
"It was a joint decision," she lied easily. "The captain and I agreed it was better if I sat this one out."
Anya raised an eyebrow.
"Really? That's odd coming from you."
"Why?"
"Because you love getting into trouble. Why stay behind? Do you actually like working here? Weird girl..."
Angelica chuckled softly.
"It's not that big a deal."
But it was. Of course it was.
The shift continued.
Customers came and went, some were techs with deep under-eye circles, others were soldiers still covered in soot or machinery grease, and others were high-ranking officials using the cafeteria as neutral ground to talk without surveillance. Everyone knew Eclipse's coffee was better than any other module on the station.
Angelica cleaned tables efficiently, but her mind was elsewhere, in the strategy room, in digital maps, in tactical movements, in the adrenaline of the mission she didn't live, in the places she didn't see...
Since the accident, Mikhail had relegated her to secondary functions. He said it was temporary, that he needed time to reorganize the squad after Rowan's death.
But that "time" had stretched nearly four months.
Rowan had been her captain and mentor. The only one who had truly trusted her since she joined the Alliance, her best friend. Their last mission together as a team went terribly wrong, and even though it wasn't her fault, Mikhail had taken command since then... and placed her behind a counter.
"Angel, capsule restock is yours!" Anya shouted from the storage room.
Angelica tried to pretend she hadn't heard that nickname.
"Angel" that's what Anya called her because of her almost ethereal features: pale skin with freckles, eyes blue like condensed plasma, an imposing height that stood out even among soldiers, and an aura that made her seem as delicate as a porcelain doll. But she hated that nickname, not because of the name itself, but because it reminded her of what she wasn't doing: restocking coffee pods instead of fulfilling her duties with her team, as if she were too fragile to go on missions.
Eventually, the shift ended later than expected.
As usual.
When the clock struck 23:03, Angelica took off her service gloves, slung her backpack over one shoulder, and exited through the side door, waving absentmindedly to the security staff.
Just for appearances.
Then, she began to run, as fast as she could.
The halls of Eclipse base were long and winding, with digital signage running along the floor edges. Boot soles echoed in the distance, but Angelica dodged them with precision, greeting a duty manager with a quick nod and leaping over a cleaning drone that moved without looking.
"Sorry!" she shouted at a maintenance tech as she passed.
The station was alive.
It always was, but she had only one goal now: don't be late again.
She turned sharply at the intersection between modules E and H, spotting the animal shelter's metal shutter closing in the distance.
"Wait, please! Don't close!" she yelled desperately, her voice echoing through the corridor.
The attendant, a petite woman with a severe face and a gray braid, paused for a moment. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of Angelica running.
"I swear, this time I have a real excuse!" she said, panting.
Without thinking, she threw her backpack toward the threshold before the shutter fully closed. The backpack rolled, getting caught under the mechanism. The shutter made a metallic noise and stopped.
"For heaven's sake, Angelica!" the attendant protested. "Again?"
"I'm sorry, really. The shift ran late. Can I... can I see Lyss?"
The woman sighed with exasperation and reactivated the panel to lift the shutter.
"This is the last time I wait for you."
"I promise."
Lyss was in his cage as usual, sprawled on his anti-gravity cushion with a look of utter indifference. He was a chubby rabbit, white with gray spots, long floppy ears, and so fluffy he looked more like a cloud than an animal.
Angelica picked him up and cradled him to her chest.
"Hey, Lyzzie," she whispered. "Did you miss me?"
Lyss didn't answer, of course, but pressed his damp nose against her neck, which was answer enough.
"Thanks. Really," she told the attendant, who was already briskly wiping the counter.
"Remember what I said."
"Yes. Last time."
With Lyss in her arms and the backpack slung over one shoulder, Angelica made her way through the base more calmly. She greeted a few acquaintances with a tired smile, took the inner lift, and walked down the personal quarters corridor.
She passed several standard doors, identical, gray, nothing special.
Until she reached hers.
A sleeker door, with soft blue-lit edges, slightly set apart. It opened automatically upon detecting her face.
The inside of her room was narrow but with high ceilings.
The single bed was placed near the entrance, with a metal trunk beneath it. Opposite, Lyss's cage held a prime spot, surrounded by accessories, toys, and automated food dispensers.
Above the cage, a foldable panel served as a desk. Shelves were filled with photos, old medals, a small projector, and even a hand-carved figurine. At the back, a tiny door led to a minimal but functional bathroom.
Near the ceiling, a slim window let in the artificial exterior light. From it hung several fake plants, carefully arranged to mimic real life. One could say she had done her best to turn what used to be a cleaning supply closet into the coziest room on the base.
Angelica entered carefully, letting the door shut behind her.
She set Lyss on the bed, watched him roll over like a living puffball, then collapsed beside him with a long sigh.
Her fingers stroked the rabbit's back as her thoughts choked her.
Why didn't Mikhail trust her? How much longer would she have to wait? How many coffee machines would she have to scrub before her own captain realized that, despite her appearance, she wouldn't break that easily?
She wasn't a child. She wasn't fragile. Rowan had known that. What had she done to make Mikhail think otherwise?
The frustration burned inside her. If she could cry, she would've. She owed it to herself, and to Rowan.
"I swear I'll talk to him," she told Lyss. "I can't keep going like this. I don't want to keep going like this. This isn't what I was trained for."
The rabbit curled up on her chest. Angelica closed her eyes, holding him tightly.
And so, still full of fury and fresh promises, she disconnected to recharge for the day ahead.
With Lyss on her.
With the war outside.
And with determination pulsing under her skin.