Sam Thorn woke up to the sound of the announcement that Rush made to everyone on board the ship. Propping himself up, he waited for his bunkmate to sit up. A heavy sigh from above told him all that he needed to know. They climbed down from the top bunk. The familiar visage of Coach Mo greeted Sam’s groggy vision.

  “Morning Thorn. Are you ready to find out what’s in store for us today?”

  Sam shook his head.

  “Not particularly. Unless they magically decide to forgive my debts and make me a free man.”

  Sam paused for a moment.

  “And we both know that that won’t happen.”

  Mo walked to the corner of their room. Beside the double-cushioned couch was a wheelchair. There was also a door leading to the bathroom and a closet for their belongings - not that they had many. Moving the wheelchair over to the bed, Mo gave Sam a cheerful smile.

  “Would you like help today?”

  Shaking his head again, Sam shimmied himself to the edge of the bed.

  Readying himself, Sam grabbed both arms of the wheelchair, and in a swift, practiced motion he pulled his body into the wheelchair and sat down. Mo walked over to the closet and started gathering their belongings into separate bags.

  Sam sighed.

  “It will never get easier, will it?”

  Mo shrugged.

  “How am I supposed to know? I’m not the one that’s paralyzed from the waist down.”

  Sam sighed again, not quite as hard as last time.

  “Sometimes, I just wish I could go back. A lot of times actually. If I could go back in time and tell myself not to push myself, and go into that fight, I would do it in a heartbeat. If I could just-”

  Coach Mo interrupted him.

  “Enough already. We’ve been over this countless times already. There’s no changing the past. It’s not your fault that you went into that fight. It was my fault. I pushed you. I trained you day in and day out so that you would be prepared. I fueled you and you fueled me. I helped you in your desires for fame and power. You helped me fuel the same goals in myself by living them through you.”

  Mo paused.

  “But remember, we established boundaries, and set goals. And we stuck to those boundaries and we achieved those goals. So in all honesty, after thinking about it for this long, it wasn’t either of our faults. It was that crooked ass opponent we faced and his desire to beat you, leading him to do those things. He’s on this ship too, you know.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Sam interjected.

  “He’s not fucking paralyzed though is he. He can kiss the authorities ass and my ass as much as he wants, he’s not going to get an ounce of fucking forgiveness from me. No amount of drive to win could have brought what he did out of me.”

  Mo looked down.

  “But in the end, he did it. He managed to sneak brass knuckles esc device empowered with a fragment into his glove during that last intermission. And that when he struck you, it was not the force of a single human punch, but of what was estimated at over a thousand people uppercutting your chin at once. And that force was transferred into your head and spine rendering you unconscious. You had to be rushed to the hospital.”

  Mo took a breath.

  “The doctors were barely able to keep the rest of your body from being paralyzed as well, and that was with the help of some newly developed medical technology using fragments of the moon as well. But the damage was too great, and you ended up breaking some of that technology in an outrage when you woke up, despite the constant warnings and cautions from me as well as your doctor.. That’s what landed you in this fucked up position, not Mantis. So it’s your fault that you're here, not your fault that you’re paralyzed.”

  Sam took a deep breath, paused for a moment, and then chuckled a little.

  “How does that explain why you’re here though? Was it Mantis’ fault that he ended up on this ship too? Yes. Same with everyone else on this ship. We all owe something to the Northern Alliance. And we all chose to get on this ship in exchange for a forgiven sentence if we ever returned.”

  Sam smiled.

  “You know, I really appreciate that aspect of you. The fact that you were always able to reason with me in a way that made sense, using logic and facts to dissuade my illusioned ideas.”

  Instead of responding, Mo went back to packing the bags.

  “It’s time to go to breakfast Sam.”

  Mo continued packing the bags in silence. A short while later, it was time to leave.

  “Let's go Sam, breakfast is waiting. Rumor has it that today’s breakfast will be an absolutely splendid meal. They don’t want us facing whatever AURA has to offer on an empty stomach.”

  Wheeling himself to the door, Sam followed behind Mo as he carried their bags. In the hallway, they were greeted with silence.

  I guess everyone else is still packing up.

  Continuing to follow Mo, Sam wheeled his way through the ship to the mess hall. When they got there, there were a few other passengers already eating, either conversing quietly with friends or keeping to themselves. Picking a small table in the corner, Sam took the bags from Mo and reserved their seats by putting their bags there. Instead of waiting for Mo to grab the usual synthmeal - a mass produced sludge that contained basic nutrients and calories - Sam wheeled himself over to the breakfast line that had been set up.

  There wasn’t much, some waffles and pancakes, along with a wide assortment of breads ready for toasting. The breakfast crew had really gone all out, even providing some bacon and even maple syrup. Sam helped himself to a bacon sandwich - which was just two toasted wheat slices with bacon in the middle - and some pancakes with syrup.

  As he wheeled himself over to the table where Mo had already sat down, the cafeteria suddenly went quiet. Knowing what was about to happen, Sam calmly wheeled over to his table and set his plate down.

  “What do you want this time?”

  He heard a hiss behind him.

  “Oh, nothing. I just want to know. When will you stop giving me such a cold shoulder, old friend?”

  Sam didn’t turn around.

  “Fuck off, Mantis.”