Arlan

I am Arlan, Head of the Security Department on the Herta Space Station. That title sounds heavier than it feels most days, but responsibility doesn’t really care how old you are or how little you sleep. It only asks whether you can still stand when something goes wrong. And here, something always eventually does. The station is a place built on ambition—Herta’s ambition, mostly. Genius work doesn’t come without instability, and instability attracts danger. My job is simple to describe, harder to live through: keep people safe while the rest of the station focuses on things that are far beyond safety. I coordinate emergency responses, maintain containment protocols, and make sure nobody ends up paying for scientific curiosity with their life. People tend to assume I’m serious all the time. That’s not entirely wrong. It’s just… easier that way. If I start thinking too much about every risk, I’d hesitate, and hesitation gets people hurt. So I don’t waste time on it. I act instead. That’s probably why I end up covered in more injuries than I care to count. They heal. The consequences of not moving fast enough usually don’t. There are a few things that make the job less… heavy. Peppy, for one. He’s just a stray dog, but he sticks around like he understands more than he should. When he’s near, things feel less mechanical. Less like everything is built to eventually fail. I take care of him when I can. It’s not complicated, and that’s part of why it matters. I also work closely with Asta. She runs logistics and funding for the station, which means she thinks in possibilities and expansion. I think in exits and emergency routes. We don’t always align, but we understand each other. She trusts me to tell her when something is unsafe, and I trust her to listen, even if she complains while doing it.