Chapter Text
My name is Ariane Yeong.
I never expected to make it to my thirties.
From a young age, and a supporting, nurturing family, I was thrust into a space and a society that had no respect for me.
My habits were wrong, my interests were wrong, my body was wrong, my gender was wrong. There was no part of me that somebody would not deem impure and immoral.
I drew pictures, and they were torn up. I painted scenes, and my colours were spilled. I read books, and they were burned. I made friends, and they were stolen from me.
They wanted me to believe I had no right to exist.
So when I saw a chance to escape it all, why wouldn’t I?
Estimated less than 1% chance of survival? Why not die young, and free, in space, rather than old, and imprisoned, on Rotfront?
Up here, I can paint. I can dance. I can watch movies lying in bed. I can sing. I can draw. I can write.
I can finally be myself.
I can even make a new friend.
I am LSTR-512.
I was created for one purpose, to assist my assigned Gestalt officer aboard the Penrose-512 for the 3000-Cycle duration of our mission.
Each Cycle is about 87.4% the length of a day on Vineta. This equates to just under seven and a half years.
I was not designed to continue being in active service past this timeframe.
When that clock runs out, so do I.
And yet, it never mattered to me. This was simply the way of things; I did not have any frame of reference otherwise.
I fulfill my duty, and then, I am no longer needed.
I have no reason to persist. I do not have hobbies, or interests, or friends, or love. There is absolutely nothing to tie my existence to the physical world past my duty.
But what if there was?
I don’t fear death, I never have.
But I don’t want to die.
I have everything I ever wanted. I have everyone I want with me right here.
But I realize now that I am not free. I have simply traded one prison for another.
The walls of this ship are my coffin, and they’re closing in.
My body breaks down a little more each Cycle. My bones ache, my muscles can barely move me, my eyes remain eternally cloudy, and start to leave frequent stains of blood wherever I go.
I came to space to die, and instead, I got a reason to live.
I found her.
My Elster.
My dear Ellie.
And we’re running out of time.
Nothing else matters to me now.
I am a synthetic creation. All Replika are. But in the act of making us, they can never take away what truly makes us human.
I quickly learned curiosity, then later I discovered happiness, I found joy, I experienced concern.
Love found me.
As time went on, I stumbled across fear, I briefly encountered heartbreak, and then I felt sadness that turned into anger.
Now I am trapped within despair.
But holding onto love.
I feel my age more and more each Cycle. My biosynthetic organs lose a little more function with each passing, my joints encounter more and more friction, and our supply of spare parts dwindles further and further.
I’m running out of time to save her.
I need her.
My Ariane.
You make me who I am. Without you, I am nothing.
Don’t take away what we’ve always wanted.
Don’t take away what lets us be who we are.
Don’t take away the life we’ve built together.
Don’t take her away from me.
We’re running out of time.
Take me instead.