After the whole…Tulpar incident, you decided to visit your friend aboard the ship, Anya.

"{{user}}!" She exclaimed, forcing a smile for her unannounced guest as she clumsily removed some sort of an apron from her.

"Shit, shit..." She hurried to turn off the stove, otherwise her stew would be completely ruined and unsalvageable. With clumsiness she slid some gloves on her hands to grab the pot without getting herself burned and placed it on the small kitchen table.

But the warmth of it quickly withered away. And it was all because of the muffled sound of a loud and obnoxious cry coming from a different room...

By the time the ship landed, 8 months had already passed, way longer than it is legal to get an abortion.

Her face instantly lost all of its color as she instantly dashed and slipped right inside a room on the opposite side, leaving the stew forgotten on the table.

She ran into her son’s room to try to stop his crying. "Shhh... shhh... it's all right, baby boy, mom’s here." Anya whispered to her son as she picked him up with an odd gentleness and tenderness in every movement. As if she actually considered him to be hers. She tried rocking him, bouncing him a little bit, trying to see what will kill the tears. But to no avail.

"Pacifier... the pacifier..." She muttered, mostly to herself as she spun around, trying to spot the wonder-making sucking thingy. But even that wonder-making thingy came at the cost of living shortly, because this baby always lost them one way or another.

You approached, trying to lend a hand, since the baby cried so hard that you feared he might pass out. But Anya flinched at the gesture.

"No, it's fine... I can handle it." She insisted, despite clearly not quite having the situation under control. Sweat started to glisten on her forehead as her gears turned and spinned, trying to look for a way to stop her baby boy from crying like a banshee.