I woke up on the right side of the bed today, spring in my step, however you want to phrase it. This morning’s workout was incredibly rewarding, even though the “after workout pump” only lasted for about twenty minutes. Still, it was like a mirror into the future; looking at yourself, muscles engorged with blood. It was the future of what you would become with consistent hard work and dedication.

The station’s head mechanic had left me a voicemail; the ship was repaired and ready to go. I had fully expected delays and excuses; so it was particularly refreshing to hear everything was on budget and schedule. I also had an automated message from my datacore production facility; my cores were produced and awaiting my pickup. All in all, a very good morning.

I hummed an offkey tune as I waited for the magtrain, my final day on this godforsaken station, and smiled at near passerbys. The train arrived on schedule, and I found myself a spot to stand amidst the crammed in crowd. There was nothing that could get me down.

“Excuse me, but this is for you.” a strangely familiar voice said. I turned to see one of the Achura females from the annoying group in the corner standing before me, an envelope in her outstreched hand. I politely thanked her, and she turned away, squeezing her way back to her seat in the corner with her friends. I had completely forgotten about them, my joy was so great at what awaited me today.

I looked at the sealed envelope in my hand. Maybe I had gotten through to them? Maybe taking the high road did work after all? I looked back over at the group, who were quietly talking amongst themselves. I felt good about myself suddenly. Maybe I did make a difference for once, not as Colonel Roc Wieler of the Tribal Liberation Force, but simply as an anonymous commuter. My belief in the good of people was quickly being restored.

I tore open the envelope, eager to read their response. There was a folded sheet of paper inside. I unfolded the paper, only to see a large, thick glob of mucus stuck between the folds of the paper. On the paper itself was a smeared lipstick kiss. There were no words on the paper whatsoever.

My right eyelid twitched uncontrollably. My hands trembled, adrenaline coursing through my body. I could hear their laughter now, and chanced a glance in their direction. They were pointing, ridiculing me, louder than ever before. My head burned, and I could feel my heartbeat strongly in the pulsating vein on my forehead. The muscles and tendons in my neck strained as my jaw clenched, my teeth grinding against each other.  The mucus glob had slowly made its way down the paper, and dropped to the carpet at my feet with a thick, wet thud. 

I tried to push my emotions aside. I tried to make a rational decision. My vision narrowed and turned red, the rage announcing its hungry desire. All I could see were Veshta Yoshita, Mandi Kai, the two teenaged Brutor morons, the Amarrian priest, and every other individual from my past and present that subtracts from my enjoyment of life. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcefully willing myself to not react the way every fiber of my being was urging me to. A single tear slid down my face. 

I turned my head away before opening my eyes. When they opened and focused, my vision rested upon the yellow sticker from the day before; the emergency sticker and strip that lined the top of the side walls of the train. A sinister grin tugged at one side of my mouth. The decision was no longer mine to make.

I pressed the strip. An emergency was about to happen…