Sebastian lays down and stares up at the ceiling. The ship creaks all around him, its metal hull reacting simultaneously to the heat of the idling engine and the chill of the deep desert night. Various whirs and clinks echo within the walls. Underscoring it all is the ceaseless thrum of the engine—a deep, subtle, hum that gently vibrates through the floor. All of these sounds work together to absolutely siphon Sebastian’s confidence that this ship will stay in one piece. His mind races. The events of the day begin to catch up with him. The speed of his heart accelerates, his stomach sinks deeper and deeper.

Then it hits him all at once.

An impact.

A deep crater forms within his stomach, then spreads up into his chest.

Sebastian’s breathing becomes stifled. The exhales are manageable, but inhaling becomes more and more difficult. He tries to close his eyes, to calm himself. Once his lids are shut, they continue to press. They press harder and harder until his brows furrow and his facial expression becomes a wrinkled grimace. He’s been taken against his will and forced to cook for a band of murderous pirates. Their ship has been damaged and could crash at any moment. Even if he were to flee successfully, the life he was plucked from was a dreadful thing altogether.

No.

He wasn’t taken against his will. Sebastian chose this path. He had June and Dusty trapped. He could have told the guards at the gate everything and it would have all worked out.

Why did he do this?

Why on Earth did he let this happen?

Sebastian can no longer recognize himself. His own decisions no longer make any sense. What is he doing? How did he get here? Breathing becomes difficult. The comfort of the flour disappears, leaving only the cold metal around him.

He stops himself.

He waits for a moment, then uses everything he has to inhale. The smells of spiced meat and wine flood his senses. A wave of comfort washes over him. For a moment, everything is okay. He realizes that this source of comfort came from him. Sebastian’s cooking. His passion. In this sea of darkness, he has managed to create his own light. An ability that he had forgotten that he was capable of.

"There are many hands with little to grasp. Hold fast, filling only the palms of you and yours."

The Mantra of the Sheltered: the creed of the early lunar colonists that has remained a cultural cornerstone for over four centuries. Sebastian was taught that after a brief period of prosperity, life in the early Moon colonies became brutal. Its limited infrastructure was a holdover from the colonies’ initial construction; back from when it was assembled in a rush to escape the apocalypse. Back then, resources were sparse. Colonists starved. They fought amongst one another. They sought to survive. Sebastian’s ancestors did whatever it took to protect the family.

The will to survive is burned into his DNA. Sebastian can feel something within him flickering to life. Something he has never felt before. It could just be the adrenaline again, but it feels deeper than that. He will survive this. He will see his family again.

Sebastian stays awake for almost an hour before he realizes that he has left the kitchen lights on. He stands up, turns them off, then returns to his makeshift bed. The warm light from the mess hall subtly illuminates the kitchen with a dim golden light. As his tired body forces his panicked mind to fall asleep, Sebastian returns to those familiar golden halls.