Morning Routine

In the sunlight, the hulking mecha would have been impossible to miss. But, in the early hours of the morning, the nearly three-storey-tall robot towered against the night sky, nearly invisible. While most wouldn’t notice it, someone with keener-eyes may see the mecha’s pitch black silhouette blocking out the swirling cosmos in the sky above.

Haruka stirred within the passenger pod, her makeshift bed nestled snugly in the densely armoured droid. The pod, designed to carry two extra people, now held only her, surrounded by the essentials for survival. Clothes hung from the roll cage above, drying from the previous day’s wash. Metal tins containing rations lined the floor under the seat, and a massive 300-litre water tank occupied most of the remaining space. Though cramped, the space felt cosy, a reflection of Haruka’s resourcefulness.

Like a contortionist she swung her legs up and over herself, twisting on her back to maneuver around the water tank and into a seated position on the edge of the bed. She hit a command panel on the wall next to her, bringing the cockpit lights flickering to life. Reaching down, she grabbed her pants from a pile on the dusty metal floor, gave them a good shake and pulled them up around her waist. The hum of fans echoed through the mecha’s interior, signalling the start of her day.

Haruka’s appearance was unassuming. Black hair framed her face, and her slender build seemed to blend into the surroundings. Yet her eclectic attire – the bright orange and white cargo pants, adorned with pockets and clips – hinted at the adventurous soul beneath. Various bits and bobs dangled from her and as if by magic the baggy-looking pants held on tight as Haruka stood up. You would think that they would at least try to get the size right when sending her a company uniform. But hey, free clothes were free clothes. And this uniform, albeit bright, was surprisingly high quality.

Haruka had programmed the mecha’s start-up sequence to begin when the passenger pod door opened in the morning. The reactor in this unit was many times older than she was, and it gave her plenty of time for her morning routine before starting her day. As she moved around her cramped bedroom, various other mechanisms began their work day as well. A small radar and antenna could be heard unfolding above her and a large electric motor was spinning up somewhere below.

This job had become an exercise in mindfulness, each day repeating the last, each task physical in nature. At first, she found it refreshing, the repititive nature of her work helped to calm her racing mind and she hoped in time it would help her process what happened at the station she left behind, the way things were going, she could have ended up a space popsicle (a very technical term I know). Her mecha had grown on her too. Baugi (pronounced bo-zhi, at least in Haruka’s mind) was a well-worn battle droid retired nearly centuries ago. Stripped of its weapons, the mecha now carried utility gear: a scanner, arc welder, and core drilling attachment. Its mechanical movements were slow and deliberate, yet reliable—a trait Haruka had grown to appreciate in this harsh environment. While it wasn’t the most luxurious place to live, she had certainly seen worse and there was a certain homeliness that came with the giant mecha.

As she walked her fingers ran along the cold steel of the internal panels, the briskness of which made her feel more awake with each step she took. The surfaces had different textures in some places, hatched in one area, ribbed in another, her fingertips bounced on them as they moved. She assumed each had a purpose, extra grip in places, perhaps others doubled as heat-sinks for hidden components. Behind the cockpit was a storage area that held some of her most prized possessions. Every item had its place. While other areas of the cabin were strewn with mess, this was pristine. She grabbed a small metal box from the drawer and opened it cautiously. Inside the small tin was what remained of a tightly packed brick of dried leaves.

With deliberate care, Haruka broke off a small amount of leaves and dropped it into the mug she had unclipped from her belt. She savoured every moment of this ritual, knowing each leaf was precious - her limited supply was running thin. She held the mug under the spigot and pressed the button, feeling a sense of satisfaction as the hot water flowed. The mecha’s startup sequence might take a while, but Haruka had prioritised the kitchen’s power allocation to ensure she had hot water for her morning tea. While all the rations could be eaten without applying heat, most were greatly improved with a little love. Once the cup was full, she began filling a flask with more to take with her and glanced through the small glass door to her side - taking note of the remaining food stored in stasis. It wasn’t a lot, but she was coming to the end of her first contract, and while the last few weeks wouldn’t be the best eating, she had more than enough food to last her.

Turning back to her cup, she watched as the leaves began to unfurl slightly, tinting the water a golden hue. Stepping back into her bedroom, she pushed up on the hatch above her head. With grace, she pulled herself out through the hatch above her head and onto Baugi’s. The ease with which she did all this, even with a full cup of tea, made it clear this wasn’t her first time.

With a soft clank, Haruka sat down on the roof, dangling her legs down in front of her. She imagined that from inside the cockpit they might look like oversized wipers and she began swaying them back and forth. She let out a short chuckle at the image she created in her head.

With a gentle pour, she shared some of the steaming tea with Baugi. The liquid trickled down the mecha’s side, leaving a shimmering trail. This daily ritual was Haruka’s way of expressing gratitude to her trusted companion. Without Baugi, she’d be lost.

She set the cup down next to her, allowing the remaining heat to let the leaves unfurl a little more. Knowing it would be worth the wait, Haruka looked out to the horizon. It hadn’t been easy adjusting to life in Baugi at first. The silence at night was deafening, the lack of structure stifling and the absence of human connection unbearable. Yet, over time, Haruka grew to cherish these aspects of her new life. She embraced the peace, revelled in the solitude, and, above all, relished the unbridled freedom.

Now she poured more hot water from the flask, this time the deep umber hues immediately streamed out from the tea, much darker now than before. Her cup was robust, full of dings and dents, but it conducted heat a little too well for hot drinks. Setting the hot mug down on the cold metal roof beside her, Haruka pulled the jacket down off her shoulders, braving the cold morning air against her skin; while she used the sleeves as insulation against the heat. That first sip of the morning was always the best, the warmth from the tea spread through her body and everything was right with the world again.

The tea tasted smooth with a dense woody flavour that reminded her of the smell after the first heavy rain, when the ground is soaked again after months of dry weather. As Haruka gazed out at the horizon, she could see cliffs rising like giants in the distance, she felt a deep sense of contentment. In this moment, she knew she’d made the right decision to embrace this new, solitary life.