Mystical writing wizard

Evan ran his hand over the bent and scratched panel on the side of the ancient generator, searching for the- click -pressure latch. “All right, let’s see what we’re working with,” he muttered under his breath, placing the small flashlight between his teeth as he pulled the panel out of the way.

The smell of old gasoline and hot metal immediately grew stronger, filling the cramped utility room behind the bar. Evan had already shut the generator down and disconnected it from the building, forcing the place to rely on the main power grid for the first time in months, maybe even years. The lights inside had flickered when he had switched it, followed shortly after by Finn loudly complaining that everything looked too bright. 

Evan leaned closer, shining the flashlight across the rusting inner mechanisms as experienced eyes searched for the problem he had been hired to find. Years of dust and copper shavings had collected along the bottom of the housing, mixed together with a thin layer of oil that definitely wasn’t supposed to be there.

Several wires had been replaced at some point, each repair done with stuff you could find at Home Depot. It made the thing look less like a functioning electrical system and more like several generations of people had each been allowed one attempt to fix it.

“How bad is it?” Finn called from the doorway, leaning against the frame.

Evan took the flashlight from between his teeth and set it beside himself.  “You want the honest answer?”

“No, but you're going to tell me anyway, aren't you?”

Evan snorted- the old man knew him well. “It’s pretty bad.”

The owner of the bar stepped into the utility room, wiping his hands against a familiar faded bar towel as he looked over Evan’s shoulder. He had owned the place for almost thirty years and the generator for apparently much longer, though the exact age changed every time he told the story. Sometimes he bought it from a closing factory in the nineties. Other times it had come with the building. Once, after several drinks, he claimed his father had pulled it out of a military bunker.

Evan was reasonably certain none of those stories were true, though one thing was true; the words ‘made in Kentucky, 1975’ etched into the back of the access panel told him it was pretty old. And was way overdue to be replaced.

“It still runs,” Finn grumbled, wringing the towel between his hands.

“Finn, you called me because there was fire coming out of the exhaust. That's not ‘working’.”

“Still counts.”

“No, that’s usually what machines do right before they burn down your bar.”

Finn grunted, but didn’t argue. He trusted the local power company about as much as he trusted anyone who wore a tie to work, which was to say not at all. Keeping the bar disconnected from the main grid had started as a way to save money during an especially expensive summer, then gradually became a matter of personal pride. Solar panels covered half the roof, batteries occupied a locked room beside the office, and the generator filled in whenever clouds or several consecutive busy nights drained what they had stored.

It was a surprisingly competent system, aside from the generator currently on its seventh pair of last legs.

Thankfully, finding the first problem didn’t take very long. Evan had moved the flashlight deeper into the housing, following the thin sheen of liquid until it had disappeared beneath one of the fuel lines. The rubber was old enough to have faded from black to a sickly gray, its surface covered in tiny cracks that widened whenever he pressed his thumb against it.

One of those cracks was wet with gasoline, the strong smell hitting Evan almost immediately.

“Well, there’s at least part of your problem,” Evan muttered, shifting to the side slightly so Finn could see. “The fuel line’s cracked. Looks like it’s been sucking air whenever the pump kicks on, probably starving the engine under load.”

“And that makes fire come out of the exhaust?” The older man asked, squinting as his inferior eyesight struggled to make out the damage in the dim light inside the generator. 

“Could. The engine starts running lean, combustion gets all out of whack, fuel makes it somewhere it isn’t supposed to, and then-” Evan made a small explosive motion with his fingers. “Boom.”

Finn stared at him, skepticism plain on his face.

“That was the simplified version.”

“I liked it better when you just fixed things.” He grumbled.

“And I liked it better when you didn’t wait until they started breathing fire to call me.”

Evan reached farther into the housing and traced the damaged line toward the fuel pump. The crack itself wasn’t large, but the rubber around it had gone stiff with age, resisting his fingers instead of bending with them. Replacing the damaged section would get the generator running again, but every other inch of hose in the thing was probably waiting for its turn to split.

He pulled his hand free and reached for the battery terminal.

“What are you doing?” Finn asked, confusion replacing skepticism. “You already found the issue didn’t you?” 

“Disconnecting the starting battery before I stick a metal tool beside it.”

“But you already turned it off.”

Evan paused, looking over his shoulder. “Do me a favor and never try fixing this yourself.”

“I’ve fixed it plenty of times.”

Evan rolled his eyes, “That explains the wiring.”

Finn grumbled something under his breath and retreated toward the doorway as Evan removed the battery connection, wrapped the loose terminal in an old shop rag, then returned his attention to the fuel line. He pinched it shut above the damaged section, loosened the ancient clamp, and carefully pulled the hose free.

A small amount of gasoline spilled across his glove, the smell of gas only growing stronger as it soaked into the cloth.  Evan wiped it away with another rag, then inspected the metal fitting beneath it. Corroded, but still solid. That was something, at least.

He cut away the damaged section and replaced it with a short length of fuel-rated hose from his tool bag, fitting a new clamp over each end. It was a simple repair, the kind that might last a year or so if the rest of the generator wasn't just as bad. He tightened the clamps, tugged on the line twice, then ran his fingers over the neighboring sections in search of another crack.

“All right,” Evan said, sitting back on his heels. “That should stop the leak, but I’m telling you now, this is temporary. You need to replace the rest of these lines, and honestly, you need to replace the whole generator.”

“How temporary?”

“The section I replaced? It could last a couple years. Everything around it?” Evan looked back into the generator. “Four months if you’re lucky. This thing should have been replaced when Reagan was in office.” 

“So it’s fixed.”

“That is almost the exact opposite of what I said.”

“But it’ll run?”

Evan looked into the generator again. The replacement hose sat firmly between the pump and the carburetor, cleaner than anything else inside the housing. As far as quick repairs went, he had done everything he could without taking half the machine apart. “It should.”

Finn smiled, clearly hearing only the answer he wanted. “Knew you’d get it done.”

“I’m charging you extra every time you ignore me.”

“Put it on my tab.” the man said wryly. 

“You own the bar. I don’t. I don’t do tabs.”

Finn disappeared back through the doorway, laughing under his breath as Evan gathered the fuel-soaked rags and carried them outside. He dropped them into the metal waste container beside his truck, removed his gloves, then returned to the utility room. The gasoline smell still lingered, but most of it had followed the rags outside, drawn away through the vents near the ceiling.

Evan checked the new line once more before reconnecting the starting battery. He left the access panel open so he could watch the repair when the fuel pump restored pressure, then reached for the ignition switch.

“Going to test it!” he called through the doorway.

“Should I turn everything off?” Finn shouted back from somewhere inside the bar.

“For now. Give it a minute before you put a load on it.”

“What?”

“I mean don’t turn anything on until I say so!”

“Oh! Why didn’t you say that?”

Evan shook his head and turned the ignition. The starter began to attempt to bring the ancient beast to life, clicking several times before the engine turned over. It coughed a plume of smoke before falling still once more, all parts spinning to a stop. Evan released the switch, waited several seconds, then tried again.

The starter whined as the engine rolled over, the fuel pump drawing gasoline through the new section of line. It coughed again, louder this time, and a cloud of dust shook loose from somewhere beneath the housing. The new hose twitched as fuel passed through it but remained firmly attached.

“Come on,” Evan muttered. “You’ve survived this long.”

Noise filled the utility room as it finally started, the sound deep and uneven at first as the generator struggled through several rough cycles. Evan kept one hand near the cutoff while watching the fuel line. No wetness formed around the clamps, and the hose didn’t move beyond the faint vibration of the engine once it really started going.

Gradually, the generator settled into a steady rumble. Evan smiled despite himself.

“Still running?” Finn called.

“For the moment!”

“I told you it still worked!”

“Give it some time to warm up before you celebrate.”

Evan reached for his meter, but stopped when something glimmered beneath the fuel pump.

A droplet gathered against the underside of a different hose, several inches beyond the section he had replaced. It swelled, trembling with the vibration of the engine, then fell into the bottom of the housing. Evan’s smile disappeared as he spotted it.

Another droplet began to gather in the same place, followed by a third farther up the hose. The rubber darkened as gasoline seeped through cracks that hadn’t been visible while the line was empty, each one spreading as the engine vibrated around it. “Ah, shit.” Evan dropped the meter and reached for the cutoff, but the engine suddenly coughed, shaking hard against its mounts as the fuel line swelled.

The crack split open.

Gasoline sprayed across the inside of the housing, coating wires, metal, and everything in between in a fine mist. Some of it sprayed across Evan’s shirt as he jerked backward, his hand still reaching for the cutoff. He could smell it immediately, strong enough to burn his nose as the generator sputtered. For one strangely long moment, his eyes followed the mist as it hung in the air, every tiny droplet catching the weak light from his flashlight.

A loose battery connection snapped with blue electric power against the housing, and Evan already knew what was about to happen. 

Well, shit.

There was a flash of white, heat washing over Evan as the utility room vanished around him. He expected pain, or at least the feeling of being thrown backward, but neither came. There was only the horrible sensation of being pulled in every direction at once before something took hold of him and yanked him sideways.

Evan tumbled through darkness, his body striking hard surfaces that disappeared before he could properly feel them. One moment he was falling, the next he was sliding, then something folded him in half and forced him through a space much too small for his body. He tried to grab onto anything he passed, but there was nothing there. Only flashes of metal, stone, and bright colors that smeared together like a dry brush dragged across wet paint.

Then, just as suddenly, he landed.

His back struck a smooth black surface, knocking the air from his lungs as it began moving beneath him. Evan rolled onto his side and pushed himself upright, blinking rapidly as harsh white lights came into focus overhead. The room around him was enormous, stretching so far in either direction that its walls disappeared into a pale haze. Hundreds of black belts ran beside his own, carrying people, glowing shapes, sealed boxes, and several things Evan couldn’t begin to describe toward rows of metal arches.

Some of the people were screaming. A few were crying. One man several belts away sat cross-legged with his arms folded, looking more annoyed than afraid as a strip of paper repeatedly tried to attach itself to his forehead.

A cheerful chime rang out above Evan as he was still reeling from being dropped onto what was apparently a conveyor belt.

“Post-mortal transfer received.”

Evan froze, one hand still pressed against his chest as he tried to catch his breath. “Post-mortal?”

A narrow strip of paper appeared above him and slapped itself against his shirt. He tried to pull it free, but the paper clung to the fabric as if it were a part of him.

PROCESSING DESTINATION: C-8

“What the hell is C-8?”

“Routing confirmed.” The voice continued as though he hadn’t spoken. 

“That didn’t answer my question.” He said, with increasing panic in his voice. 

The belt carried him beneath the first arch. Pale light swept across him from head to toe, cold enough that he felt it pass through his body instead of over his skin. Symbols he couldn’t understand appeared across the archway, then vanished with another cheerful chime.

“Destination approved.” 

Evan looked ahead and saw that the belt ended in a perfectly square hole with pitch black darkness. It wasn’t a natural darkness either, it was a pure black like ink. “No. No, hold on.”

The belt sped up as he protested, rails rising from either side of the belt as if to prevent him from escaping whatever was coming. He dropped onto his stomach and pressed his hands against the moving surface, but it was completely smooth. His palms slid uselessly across it as the opening rushed closer.

“I think there’s been a mistake!”

“Routing complete. Thank you for your patience- have a good afterlife.”

The belt threw him into the hole.

Darkness swallowed him again, followed by the same crushing pull from before. Evan twisted sideways as something dragged him through another narrow passage, his shoulder clipping a wall hard enough to spin him around like a top. Light flashed ahead, and he flew out into a circular room lined with hundreds of doors.

He landed on another moving surface, barely had time to see a figure made entirely of blue glass looking down at him, and was launched through the nearest doorway.

“Now delivering to: C-8,” a distant voice announced in the same cold tone as before.

“Transfer accepted,” another answered.

He dropped through a forest filled with silver trees, their branches covered in paper tags that fluttered despite the complete absence of wind. Something scanned the label on his chest before a hole opened beneath him. Evan could feel his thoughts turning to mush as he was tossed from place to place.

“Hey i think there’s been a mist-”

“Jurisdiction confirmed.”

Another hole opened up beneath him, and Evan fell through an office where dozens of small winged creatures argued over a stack of folders, scattering them as he passed. One looked up, shouted something he couldn’t understand, and pointed just before another doorway struck him from the side.

By the fourth transfer, Evan had stopped trying to stand. He curled his arms over his head instead, waiting for the next impact as the universe handled him with all the care of an underpaid delivery driver nearing the end of their shift.

Something caught him by the back of his shirt.

For the briefest moment, Evan hung motionless in complete darkness. He could hear a soft mechanical ticking somewhere nearby, followed by the sound of paper being pulled through a printer. Or what he guessed was a printer.

Evan dropped through a ceiling.

He struck the edge of an enormous wooden desk, rolled across its surface, and crashed into several leaning towers of paper. The first collapsed beneath him. Another tipped into the one beside it, sending folders and loose reports spilling across the room in a slow-moving wave. Evan landed facedown on the floor as papers drifted over him, one page settling across the back of his head before the rest of the stack buried him.

For several seconds, the room remained completely silent.

Evan lay beneath the papers, waiting to see if anything else intended to throw, crush, scan, or label him. When nothing happened, he slowly pushed himself upward, dislodging several folders from his shoulders as he emerged like a winter fox from under a snow drift. 

Across the room, a woman sat behind another desk.

She looked exhausted. The kind someone carried after working several days without sleep and then being told they were required to attend a meeting that should have been an email. Her hair had been pulled back at some point, though enough of it had escaped to suggest she had stopped caring several hours ago. Ink stained two of her fingers, and one hand remained frozen above the document she had been writing in.

Her eyes moved from Evan to the mountain of paperwork scattered on the ground. A page slid from the top of a nearby stack and fluttered to the floor, drifting down like a feather on the wind.

“What,” she asked with frightening calm, “did you just do to my filing system?”

Evan looked down at the thousands of pages scattered around him, then up at the hole in the ceiling he had fallen through. “I’m going to be honest, I don’t think any part of that was my fault.”

The woman stared at him for another long moment before pushing herself away from the desk. “Nobody was scheduled to deliver anything today.”

“I uh… I think I am the delivery?” Evan said sheepishly, trying to pile the papers back up on the table only to cause a few more stacks to fall over. “Stop.”

He froze with several pages in his hands.

Vivian crossed the room and carefully removed them from his grip. “Do not touch my paperwork.”

“I was trying to help.”

“You have already helped enough. I was nearly finished reorganizing this.” She said through gritted teeth.

She stepped carefully around one of the fallen stacks, muttering under her breath as she picked up the label still attached to Evan’s shirt. Her irritation faded as she read it, replaced first by confusion, then something much more focused. She looked at Evan, back at the label, and then toward the ceiling as if expecting someone to realize their mistake and pull him back through it.

Nobody did.

“You came through post-mortal routing,” she said.

“Yeah, I was hoping you could explain the ‘post-mortal’ part.”

The woman ignored the question, her eyes moving over him with growing interest. “You’re a mortal.”

“Last time I checked… yes?”

“And you were sent to C-8.”

“That’s what the thing said. Back there, with all the conveyor belts and-” 

A smile slowly spread across her face. It wasn’t a comforting smile. It was the expression of someone who had spent an impossibly long time searching for a solution and had just watched one crash through her ceiling.

Evan glanced toward the door behind him, wondering if he could run out of the room before whatever was about to happen, happened. “Why do I feel like I’m about to be sold something?”

Chapter one:

11:00 pm S.F.T. (Standard Federation Time), aboard The Odyssey II's Recreation Room

Loyd flicked his omnitool on with his thumb as he pressed the steel plate against the wall with his other hand- covering the exposed wires that the previous engineer had left hanging out. “There we go.” He muttered, as the sheet just about covered the entirety of the hole.

He pressed the trigger, double checking that the tool was in ‘WELD’ mode, and watched as the edges of the metal began to heat. They quickly melted, and Loyd pushed the plate- fusing it flush with the rest of the wall.

He paused, waited for the metal to cool down, and ran his hand down the new weld seam. The steel was warm from his omnitool fusing the sheet, and the stripped bolt heads that had been along the edges were nearly non-existent. Someone had tried tightening them with the wrong tool and just kept going. Classic.

Of course, that's why he had chosen this piece of scrap metal for the repair- it was still structurally sound, but nobody was going to use it for anything else.

He flexed his fingers, his joints popping one by one. His knuckles still ached from the last repair job, but that was what you got for being the only person on board who looked at a problem and thought I can fix that, instead of I can report that.

Across the room, a female Tiquil perched on the back of a bench, her long curved beak pointed down towards the table. Brightly dappled feathers puffed and flattened in erratic pulses as they tried to act casual, and failed at it, clearly itching for some interaction- or, perhaps, a duel of some kind.

“I don't like that we're at the edge of federation space…”

The Kree’ark across from them didn’t bother to answer at first. They didn’t so much sit as occupy the bench- long lower body curled beside it, legs tucked in tight, their flared lobster tail supporting their weight.

“I don't enjoy it either, Coori.”

The mandibles on their long tubular head clicked in slow, steady rhythm, and one mantis-like arm moved with neat little jabs as they spoke. They seemed to be waiting for their compatriot to continue the conversation. Both beings were wearing green environmental suits- clearly signaling to Loyd they were part of the Hydroponics team.

“Why are we out here again?” Coori trilled, their small clawed wings spreading out. Loyd checked the edges of the metal sheet to make sure it had fused properly, only mildly eavesdropping as he ran his finger over a slightly rougher patch of the weld.

“Federation law.” The Kree’ark’s mandibles didn’t speed up, their tone calm and reassuring. “Human-origin SOS signals must be investigated.”

The Tiquil’s feathers flared, as they were given an answer- then lowered as they tilted their head. “Aaah right. Why?”

“Because they’re nearly extinct. There’s only around a million humans left, if I remember correctly.” The Kree'ark tapped their smaller manipulating appendages on the table, the built in screen pulling up a strategy game- a battle simulator. Four large triangles appeared on both ends of the table, with eight smaller ones surrounding them. Command ships, with their escorts. “Care for a game?”

Coori’s eyes flicked to Loyd, their deep brown eyes lingering for a moment on his frame before looking back down to the table. They silently accepted the game invitation- making the first move, and ‘pushing’ a small triangle to a cluster of hexagons- an asteroid belt. “Oh yeah. I keep forgetting because of that guy.”

Loyd just kept listening, turning his head to watch their game as he pretended to flip through settings on his omnitool. Honestly, he should be getting to his next repair job, but it was fixing the restroom pipes- and he really didn't want to do it.

“A deathworld species will do that.” They moved two of their own smaller units, having one circle the other- which caused the hiding unit Coori had set up in the asteroid belt to swap its targeting between the two without firing.

The Tiquil’s feathers didn’t stop moving now, fluctuating as their crewmates' ships grew closer to his own. “But yeah, I don’t like it. I’ve heard the Zerinth ambushed a research vessel just a couple of cycles ago. I hate thinking they might be waiting for us.”

“Maybe they are,” the Kree’ark clicked, and one mantis arm made a precise, dismissive gesture. “but they wouldn’t do anything stupid. They’d lose their spot at the Federation’s table, and they really can't afford that.”

Their mandibles stopped clicking as four more of Coori's units came out from the asteroid belt, hidden by their hexagonal field. They blasted the Kree'arks ships, dwindling their smaller ship count down by three- the final ship fleeing back toward the rest of their force. The insectoid aliens' emerald compound eyes seemed to glitter as their ship fled.

Then, everything went dark.

“The hell?” Loyd muttered, lowering his tools as he looked around the dark room- before the red emergency lights flicked on. The cold, calculated voice of the ship AI began to loop through the speakers.

Alert.

Zerinth vessel approaching.

Odyssey II is registered as a neutral research vessel- No response to Federation hails.

All personnel remain calm and proceed to emergency stations.

Loyd turned to the Kree'ark with a sour look, their biomechanical spines rippling down their back, both of their manipulating appendages lifting up in a “sorry” gesture.

“They won't-” the ship shook as something impacted the starboard side, the red lights now being joined by the heavy shrill of alarms.

Warning! Heavy damage has been detected in the following sections:

Hydroponics

Life Support

Strange Matter Containment Unit

Cargo Bay

Engineering

All personnel please proceed to the escape pods. This is not a drill.

Loyd's stomach dropped as the list of damage rang out. He only hoped that the Strange Matter had already burned off.

The ship shook again, the alarms blaring all around as he shoved his omnitool into its place at his hip and turned towards the other two frozen in their spots.

“Run!” He roared, barreling past them as he ran towards the escape pods. Coori acted first, the game forgotten as their tridactyl feet clicked against the metal floor, chasing after the man. The Kree'ark took a few more seconds to truly process what was happening, before they too began to skitter towards the escape pods.

The hallway quickly became two, one wrapping around the outside hull, the other going deeper into the ship.

“We should go this way” Coori trilled, taking a step toward the outer hallway. Loyd wanted to agree. The outer hall was shorter. Too close to vacuum, his brain warned. He was proven right when the metal ahead of Coori groaned, buckling inward at four points halfway down the hallway. Loyd didn’t even have time to turn his head before four carbon hardened claws pierced through one by one.

A jagged seam tore down the bulkhead and the air left like it had been waiting for the opportunity. Wind slammed into him hard enough to steal the breath from his lungs. The world became white in an instant- condensation flashing into mist- loose objects became bullets, slamming into the walls with immense force. Many broke apart into smaller pieces, becoming even more deadly.

Coori’s small wings flapped open as they scrambled backward, quickly making their way back to the other two standing at the airlock.

A little ahead- a Sru, tall for their kind and racing as quickly as they could toward them- threw all four of their arms out, fingers scraping for a handhold and finding no purchase. Their eyes full of pure fear as they were ripped from the corridor and into the cold embrace of the vacuum- a few pieces of debris slamming into their body and releasing blue blood into the darkness.

A Krii, scampering right behind, hit the shredded opening like a thrown plush toy, squealed, their ferret-like body becoming a green smear along the open wound.

One large, slitted amber eye looked through the hole- cold, and unfeeling. It blinked, a clear membrane sliding over the eye- and when it finished, its pupil was focused on the three of them.

The airlock slammed down with a heavy clang before the Zerinth mech could do anything, and Loyd turned to the two xenos following his lead- his ears popping as atmosphere pressure returned to normal.

“KEEP MOVING!” he screamed, and began to run again. The hull right behind them groaning as four points once more appeared in the walls. As if trying to find the little morsels of meat that had just escaped its grasp.

Airlock 141: closing.

Clang

Another airlock slammed shut behind them as they bolted down the hallway. For a second, Loyd stupidly hoped it would stop it.

It wouldn’t. It would only buy time, and not enough of it. Though it was a valiant effort from the ship AI.

Airlock 142: closing.

Clang

Another slammed shut as the sharp scream of metal being torn echoed through the air.

“The ship cannot handle much more of this!” Coori screeched, her beak ajar as she panted heavily- the stress and pace were taking its toll on her. Handfuls more airlocks closed behind them, and the feral tearing of metal faded as they created distance. While it was strong he thought, it couldn't tear through a ship as large as The Odyssey very quickly.

And then- they were surrounded by others. Sru were trying to swing with their superior dexterity over the throng of people, using the piping above to make headway.

Tiquil were frantically calling over the den of noise, trying to find loved ones as their luminescent stripes and spots glowed in the dim red light.

Krii scampered beneath everyone's legs, trying to make headway, slipping between legs and chitin alike to get to the escape pods quicker.

In contrast, the Kree'ark were the calmest- all attempting to funnel their crewmates into various hallways and directions, using their sheer size and intimidation in the lighting to help their fellow xenos. Loyd even spotted some of their pupae clinging to them, their frightening appearance dampened somewhat by their endless shaking.

“We don't have time for this.” He growled, grabbing a nearby exposed pipe and yanking. With a groan, the tube was ripped free, and he immediately slammed the hollow pipe against the overhead tubing. Dozens of heads turned, and the smaller Krii squeaked in alarm as they scurried to hide behind their larger constituents.

“Get out of the way!” He roared, pushing forward. His dense body easily shoved even the massive Kree'ark aside as he cleared a path- Coori following behind as the Kree'ark paused, looking around at the panicking crewmates.

“I cannot continue. I have to help.” They clicked. It was clear there would be no convincing them once Loyd looked into their emerald eyes- their entire posture showing determination. He nodded, and continued banging the pipe against the ones above- nearly hitting a panicking Sru as they swung across the pipe's trajectory. Loyd jerked the pipe to the side just in time, bending it just enough to be less effective in his hands.

“Shit.” he groaned, tossing the pipe aside- though it had served its purpose. They had left the crowded main corridor and found the secondary ones- leading straight to the escape pods.

“Thank the ancestors.” Coori chirped, looking to the wall- the black line reading escape pods clear even in the dim lighting.

“Don't count your blessings yet- we have to get to the pods. And lets hope that bastard out there hasn't had the time to look at the ship schematics” Loyd stepped forward with purpose as he followed the line, keeping a steady and fast pace.

They quickly passed by pod bay A and B, as they were already sealed- either suffering catastrophic failures, or all pods already launched. Approaching pod bay C, it was still open- but only one pod remained.

“You take this one. I'll go to the next bay.” He pushed Coori forward, pointing toward the pod. “If you make it to federation custody, make sure you tell them about what happened.” The Tiquil stared at Loyd as he shoved them into the escape pod, and turned away from them.

“Will you be alright?” She asked, strapping herself into the seat.

“I sure hope so.” He chuckled, before running down the hall to the next bay- bay D.

This one had several intact escape pods, with only one or two already having been launched. Loyd quickly hoisted himself into one of the seats and buckled himself in, pressing the giant red button on the wall to initiate the launch sequence. The best thing about human built ships is the simplicity, he thought to himself, the airlock into the pod closing with a heavy thunk.

The atmosphere pressurized quickly as an automated voice began to play.

[Escape Pod 103 activated. For your own safety, please buckle yourself into the seat provided.]

Loyd gripped the belt buckles as the pod began to shake, steel rushing past the small viewing port as it was launched into the vacuum. He breathed a sigh of relief as he cleared the ship, body relaxing as he began to move away. The pod rotated, slowly showing the extent of the damage to the Odyssey.

The Ship was… in pieces. The bridge, toward the front of the ship, had been chopped off entirely. The viewing port had been shattered, the edges pulled back as if to open up the space inside even more effectively to the vacuum. Loyd could see small pieces of metal floating around the port, and what were probably bodies. He thought of their families back in the federation, and hoped that they had given them a proper goodbye.

The rest of the ship had fared only marginally better, not being ripped in half but missing large chunks. The entire top of the ship had been peeled open like a tuna can, and perched atop the dying ship was the Zerinth mech. Its sheer size took up a quarter of the total length of the Odyssey.

Its angular skull was adorned with one long curved horn, dots of bioluminescent lights pulsing downward toward the rest of its form. Its face- it was a predator’s through and through. A long muzzle opened up as it bit into the ship, long fangs piercing the hull as if it were made of butter, lights pulsing past its glowing eyes.

Its arms split into four at the shoulders, like a Sru- but unlike them, these four fingered hands were adorned with several foot long claws, currently stabbing into the sides of the Odyssey in frantic jabs. Its skin reminded Loyd of a shark’s- smooth and dark. Even here, the lights pulsed- they flowed down its body, down the sides of the mech and its long bladed tail. The only thing breaking up this predator form was the large circular metal disk embedded at the base of its neck, shimmering in the dim star light.

It was strangely mesmerizing, but he didn’t get to dwell on it long as the pod turned again towards the nearby planet they had originally come to investigate. Clouds drifted across its surface as the pod began to maneuver itself into the optimal position.

[Breathable atmosphere detected. Attempting descent... Communicating with other life rafts for landing zone. Please stay seated]

Loyd closed his eyes as the planet surface rushed towards his only hope for survival, flames slowly creeping up the viewport. The roar of air rushing past the pod drowning out his own thoughts, the only sound the automated voice reading out time to impact

[Eight minutes to impact… five minutes… two minutes… thirty seconds..]

[Prepare for impact]

[Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two-]

[One.]

A drop of sweat slowly wandered down Josh's back as he walked upon the ash covered ground, slowly scanning the area before him for any glimpse of green. Any hint that life had taken hold on this barren soil. He could hear the oxygen pumps working away in his suit, slowly pumping fresh air he could breathe around his face. He slowed down, then stopped, looking down at what he had hoped he wouldn't see. A small sprout, pushing its way out of a fist sized seed case from beneath the ash and dirt.

"Damn. Sorry little guy."

Josh muttered, grabbing the heavy flamethrower at his hip. With a snick and a hiss, the small blue flame he had become accustomed to flickered to life.

It wavered, as if it didn't want to burn away the tiny plant below it, almost going out before Josh pulled the trigger. He felt the flamethrower jerk as it spewed forth its liquid death, almost knocking him over as it enveloped the tiny seedling. There was what seemed like a tiny scream, then silence. A tiny fire where this green sapling had been all that remained.

Josh flicked the switch and let the flame fade away before hooking the flamethrower back onto his hip. He barely glanced back at the dying fire as he began to scan for any other signs of growth, not lingering on any one spot for too long. Out of the blue, his radio crackled to life in his ear, and he winced as he adjusted the volume.

"This is Gregory, section C-10 to C-4 is all clear. No Greenies at all, still have a full tank. Pass it along."

Josh nodded his head as Gregory spoke, waiting to see if anyone else was listening, and would report on their own sectors. When they did not, Josh cleared his throat and slowly spoke.

"This is Josh, Sector C-3. I'll pass it along."

Without waiting for Gregory to reply, he pulled out a small piece of paper. In messy handwriting and covered with soot smears, he could barely make out the frequency of sector C-2's radio. He quickly switched his radio over to the needed channel and pressed down on the blinking red button.

"This is Josh, from Sector C-3. All clear here, only one Greenie, I dealt with it. Sectors C-10 to C-3 have been swept. pass it along to C-1."

There was a faint hiss as his finger lifted off the button, waiting for the response. He didn't have to wait very long, and heard a familiar gruff voice blast out from his ear piece.

"This is Gary, sector C-2. Hear you loud and clear Josh. I'll pass it along, get your ass back to Soot City and return your equipment."

Josh turned his radio down as he heard the last of the message, and took one last look around himself before spinning in a 180 and slowly making his way towards the blackened dome in the distance. Small plumes of smoke belched out here and there, almost as if the city was vomiting it out like a disease. He could just make out the skyline within, trying its best to appear dignified within the clouds of smog.

Josh slowly trudged his way back towards the depressing scene he had grown accustomed to during his life living under the thumb of Exxon Mobil Corp. But, he couldn't complain too much. It was Soot City or the Jungle, and he knew which one he would choose any day. He would much rather slowly die from the smog created by cars and generators than be eaten by an overgrown Venus fly trap. Or poisoned by a small Gas Sack. Or the hundreds of other ways he could die in the Jungle. It wasn't pleasant, but Soot was much safer than anything out there. After all, it was the most important job in Soot, to be a Burner.

Burners. The only thing between Soot City and the Jungle. He and his fellows would go out, every day, and turn anything growing within a five mile radius into nothing but ash. Of course, it was broken down into sectors, alphabetically. The closer to the beginning of the alphabet you were, the more you got paid. Or that’s what he had heard. In reality, nobody talked about it.. Or talk about anything other than work. It wasn’t fun, but Josh knew work wasn’t meant to be. It was meant to pay off your debts to ExxonMobil and the Oil Enforcement Corp. He was still thinking about how much he hated the O.E.C when a shadow fell over him. He looked up, and gazed upon the massive wall of glass and concrete before him.

Josh shook his head to clear away the dangerous thoughts in his head and began to look for the tiny metal door he had left through hours before. It took him a minute, but he soon found the old rusting door embedded in the concrete.

“Ah there you are. Now…. OPEN SESAME!”

He shouted, grabbing the dented steel handle and pulling as hard as he could. With a groan, the door swung open and released a plume of brown air. A small concrete room greeted him, with a singular dull light bulb the only light inside. Josh was very glad he was wearing his oxygen mask as the polluted air washed over him, and stepped inside without hesitation. He could hear the door moaning as it swung back into place, and with a dull *Thunk* as it settled back into its frame. A soft beep from his earpiece got his attention once again, and Josh hastily went to turn the volume back up, fumbling a little in the dim light.

“Joshua Blackwood, your oxygen subscription has nearly ended. Please renew your subscription or you will lose access to your filtered air. Contact your local MobilAir™ office for more details. Joshua Blackwood, your-”

Josh sighed heavily and turned the volume back down until he couldn’t hear the automated voice any longer. He must have used more oxygen than he had thought he had, and his budget was gonna hurt for it. He mentally kicked himself as he grabbed the handle of the second, much cleaner looking door and opened it too. Blindingly white light assaulted him, making his eyes water as he lifted an arm to block the offending bulbs attacking him.

“Ah, Josh. I see you’ve made it back. Walking in’s a bitch as always.”

A deep warm voice called out to him, muffled slightly by an oxygen mask. Josh knew better than to flinch away as a heavy hand pounded his back, nearly knocking him off his feet.

“Hello George, see you’re in good spirits again today. And yes, i never will understand why the bigwigs thought buying the brightest fucking bulbs on the planet was a great idea.”

Josh agreed, regaining his footing as he turned to look at the man behind the voice. Standing there and grinning like a little kid, was George. He was a big man, standing at nearly six feet tall and sporting a slight beer gut that never seemed to sit still when he spoke. He was once again wearing the dirtiest white tank top Josh had ever seen, and it always made him wonder if that was the only shirt George owned, but he wasn’t one to judge. Wasn’t like many of them could afford much more than one set of clothes, especially in their line of work. Or any line of work for that matter, besides the higher ups.

“I’m not in a good mood, everyone else is just sour.”

George joked, patting Josh’s shoulder as he walked over to the long wall of lockers. He paused by one of them, labeled C-12 and pulled off his oxygen mask, immediately going into a coughing fit as his lungs were filled with the stale, polluted air. Josh was worried he was about to keel over before George gave a thumbs up and closed the locker.

“See you tomorrow Josh, you *cough* lucky dog. Wish i owned my oxygen mask, but hey *cough* we don’t always get what we want!”

He turned and walked down the hallway, not looking back as he disappeared around the corner and re entered the hellscape beyond.

“Trust me buddy, I'm basically renting this one too. I just get to take it home..”

Josh mumbled as George walked away, approaching his own locker. It was closer to the door, having a lower number than his big burly friends. He opened it up and carefully pulled the flamethrower from his hip and leaned it against the back of the metal box, taking care to point the ‘barrel’ upwards. He knew it didn’t really matter to the rest of his fellow Burners, but he wanted to make sure his equipment needed as few trips to the repair shop as possible. He really couldn’t afford any undue, uncovered repairs for something stupid like a bent gas tube.

“Ahh, smart.”

Josh jumped and nearly shouted out as the muffled voice of Gary met his ears, and nearly slammed his head into the locker door. Gary seemed very smug for a moment before his face turned down into a slight scowl, opening his own locker besides Josh with a squeak of old hinges.

“Oh don’t stop on this old geezers account.”

Gary’s voice almost sounded like someone was dragging two stones together. It wasn’t the most pleasant voice to listen to, and it made Josh appreciate the way his radio and earpiece made everyone’s voice monotone. Though, he wasn’t surprised. If you managed to live to be as old as Gary, your voice tended to be pretty…unpleasant.

“Josh, I’m gonna shoot the shit with you, and you’re gonna listen to this old rusty Burner.”

Gary set his own mask into his locker, but unlike George, he didn’t seem to go into a coughing fit. In fact, it almost seemed like he breathed a little easier.

“I’m not going to be doing many more shifts with you. Not that I don't like you, but I'm being told to retire.”

Josh again wasn’t surprised. Gary was getting up there in years, already a pretty rare occurrence, but the fact he hadn’t fallen over dead from some kind of cancer was another miracle. He idly set his extra gasoline besides his flamethrower, listening carefully to what he was saying before speaking.

“Lemme guess, they're trying to screw you over and not give you your retirement fund.”

Gary laughed, before he doubled over and coughed. Not the smog affected cough that George had let out, but a much deeper, and wetter, cough.

“You know it. Those bastards up top don’t want to give us our due payment even at the end. But that’s not what I'm talking to you about. I’m going to put in a recommendation that you get transferred to C-2. You should get a pay raise with it.”

Josh closed his locker and turned to face the older man, eyes squinting in slight suspicion.

“Why me? We work together, sure, but I'm not exactly your friend.”

He asked, crossing his arms. It was true they had lockers side by side, but they had never had a conversation outside of what they did today, or what they were doing after work.

“Because you’re the best damn burner we have. You’re able to spot a seed from ten feet away under an inch of ash. Now I'm going home, see you tomorrow.”

Gary said dismissively, closing his own locker. He turned and coughed again, that deep wet cough. Gary either didn’t notice, or didn’t care as he walked past, hobbling along like some emaciated hobbit chasing a golden ring.

Josh just watched him go before he heard another beep from his radio. Glancing down, he saw a little red light flashing, warning him of his oxygen timer.

“Shit!”

He turned and sprinted down the hallway, blowing right past Gary as he hobbled along. He must have lost track of time, his oxygen pump was going to time out soon. He shouldn’t have indulged the old man. He cursed as he rounded the corner into the lobby, the clean marble floor nearly making him slip as he ran full speed past the front desk. He grabbed his ID card and skidded to a stop at the clock out station, breathing heavily. Seconds passed as he waited for the system to register his ID, and fidgeted with the card between his fingers. Eventually the light turned green and he shoved the card back into his pocket before once again running at top speed out the big glass doors out onto the street.

It was dim, as it always was, outside the building. The clouds of smog blocked out the rays of light trying to penetrate the dome of glass, only allowing a soft red glow around everything. It was a bit jarring, after being outside in the clean fresh air and bright sunlight, but Josh wasn’t going to stop and ponder about that. He needed to get to the Mobilair™ building and renew his subscription for tomorrow. He couldn’t afford to get any spores in his lungs, or he wouldn’t be able to work, or might even die. As he ran he heard the familiar rumble of trucks gaining ground behind him, and watched as the oil trucks drove on by.

“Shit its the evening deliveries.”

Josh ran as hard and fast as he could, taking back streets whenever he had the chance to cut out a minute or two from his trip. A few minutes more was all he needed. He needed to make it before the evening deliveries got to their destinations, or the office would be closed for the next few hours. He couldn’t afford to skip the payment again. He was already behind on three payments and could not afford to be late on another.

Josh heard the soft beep of his radio turning its volume back up by itself, and began repeating the message over and over again. He cursed and grabbed a light pole, using it to turn a corner with dangerous speed, nearly flinging himself out into the road. But his goal was in sight, he could see the MobilAir™ building right ahead, its windows covered in grime. But at that moment it looked like the most beautiful sight Josh had ever seen. He ran a little faster as he saw one of the delivery trucks round the corner behind him, belching out black plumes of smoke from its exhaust pipe.

"No no no!"

Josh yelled, pumping his legs as hard as he could manage. He heard the truck slowly gaining ground on him before he ran face first into the glass doors to the building with a loud *thump.* Luckily, the door didn't break, but it swung open with such force that Josh was afraid that it would. Panting, and now groaning with pain, he walked up to the desk and pressed the small red button on the counter. A buzzer sounded somewhere, and a few moments later a disgruntled woman walked out from a door behind the counter.

"Made it here last minute huh?"

She said grumpily, sitting in the swivel chair behind the desk. She turned to the small laptop and sighed before looking back to Josh.

"Well? What do you need?"

Josh pulled off his mask and set it on the counter almost immediately coughing as he took in the polluted air within the building.

"Well I need my subscription renewed for tomorrow."

He said simply, watching as the woman sighed heavily and pulled out a small cord, plugging it into the laptop. She began to type before stopping and once again turning towards Josh.

"Your account number?"

She asked curtly, almost angrily. Josh began to feel a bit bad. He might be keeping her from her break, or accepting the oil truck that most likely had pulled into the back.

"Uh it is 1226910, under the name Joshua Blackwood."

He answered, moving his mask forward to make it easier for her to reach as another cough wracked his body. The woman seemed to give a deadpan stare before she began typing into her laptop again. After several moments, she grabbed the mask he had presented and plugged the small cord into a tiny little port on the side.

"And your payment details are current?"

She asked, still typing away as Josh nodded.

"Yes, it's current. I should have enough points to pay for half of it?"

He asked hopefully, looking down at the laptop. The woman seemed to sigh heavily before typing something else into her keyboard.

"Yes yes it looks like you have five hundred points to use. This will pay for about half of your bill for today. Is that it?"

She lazily put in a few more keystrokes as Josh nodded. There was a soft beep before she unplugged his mask, pushing it back towards him.

"Thank you."

Josh said, picking up his mask and putting it back onto his face. He felt the pumps spring back to life and begin to pump fresh air into his lungs again.

"I am obligated to tell you-"

The woman began, standing up from her desk and turning to leave back into the dark depths of the back room.

"-That you are behind on your payments for your V8 Flamethrower. If you miss another payment, the O.E.C. will be sent after you.”

Josh turned a bit pale , and nodded before hurriedly leaving the office. He listened to the oxygen pumps working away to provide him fresh air, and sighed softly. He should have known that he was too far behind on his equipment. He would have to use his next paycheck to cover that. Shaking his head slightly, he looked out into the smog above him and squinted. The sun had begun to set, turning everything into a deeper red, red like a crimson pool of blood. He paused, watching the sun disappear under the edge of the edge of the concrete wall, and everything was bathed in darkness.

For a moment, he stood on the sidewalk and just stared, even if he couldn’t see anything. Then, there was a soft buzzing sound as the street lights began to flicker to life, giving off their own dim yellow glow. While dimmer than ever, and obscured by smog, he could still see far enough. And so he began to walk again, passing under street lights as he went. He soon could see the flashing lights of main street, and the loud voices of the various shops and markets.

Josh slowly entered onto the main street and covered his eyes with a hand, looking out into the crowds of people. Some wore the same oxygen masks as himself, glancing around as if someone was out to get them. Which, in all fairness, could very well be true. Many, however, wore nothing. He could see several men and women coughing violently as they walked, covering their mouths with their elbows every time they convulsed.

Josh could see beggars, holding out hats for change, and small oil stained children running around while their parents tried to wrangle them up. Some hung around the entrances to nightclubs, the flashing signs above promising a good time for any who dared to walk inside. And he saw several food vendors, but he wasn’t interested in any of them- except one.

He confidently walked into the crowd and placed a hand onto his tank, making sure someone with sticky fingers didn’t take it from him while he traversed the busy street. He lost sight of his goal for a moment, but it quickly came back into view as he left the crowd of people and back onto the sidewalk.

“Ah there he is, the hero keeping us from being overwhelmed with those green monsters out there.”

Someone called out, making Josh grin. The voice in question came from a heavyset man who looked out from the open bar with ratty leather seats barely standing on rusty pillars underneath it. He had a twinkle of mischief in his brown eyes as he gave a shit eating grin, the red light from the sign above illuminating the small space. One light was out, the O in Gluttony, but it added to the charm of the small stall.

“And this hero would like some steak, Jeremy.”

Josh laughed as he answered, sitting down on one of the rather well loved looking seats and folding his arms over his chest.

“Oho the hero is splurging a bit today isn’t he?”

Jeremy chuckled, leaning down and grabbing something from underneath the bar. It soon became clear that it was a large steak, still dripping with marinating sauce when Jeremy slapped it down onto the grill with a satisfying hiss. His large arm wobbled as he grabbed a large spatula and began to flip the slab of meat at regular intervals.

“Maybe, or maybe I know you owe me a steak from last week.”

Josh answered casually, leaning over onto the bar as he watched Jeremy flip the steak yet again, a nice golden brown char beginning to form on the outside of the meat.

“Ahhh, I see, and where did you get this idea? I don’t give out handouts you know.”

Jeremy answered, just as casually, as he flipped the steak onto a plate. A glob of rehydrated mash potatoes slapped down besides it before he slid it towards Josh. Josh stopped it just as it reached him and slowly took off his mask, coughing slightly before digging into the food.

“So, any news on the outside?”

Jeremy asked eagerly, leaning his large back against one of the pillars to his little stall. Josh chewed for a moment, holding up his finger, and swallowed before he answered.

“Nothing new my friend. Still hostile, and still has those damn greenies. Just burned up a sapling today, actually.”

He took another bite of his meal, almost coughing again but shoving it down to not spray his meal everywhere.

“A hell, guess those damn eggheads really fucked us all over huh?”

Jeremy shook his head before a loud *chunk chunk* sound filled the small area they resided in. He rolled his eyes and seemed to kick something below the bar, making Josh wince as he heard a sickening screech. A puff of black smoke rose out from under the bar before everything seemed to settle down, and Jeremy nodded to himself.

“Damn thing still wants to die on me, but it seems to work with a good kick.”

Josh raised an eyebrow, and pushed the empty plate towards Jeremy, who promptly picked it up and tossed it into a waiting dishwasher beside the grill.

“What, your generator? Jeremy, I told you to get that thing replaced weeks ago.”

Jeremy chuckled again, this time disheartedly as he leaned back against the pillar.

“You know I can't do that, Josh. I’m already months behind on my payments, I can't afford a new generator. I already have the collector bothering me every day about it..”

Josh nodded as he listened, tossing his fork into the dishwasher from his sink. It landed with a satisfying *bloop* into the water, and Jeremy clapped as Josh placed his mask back onto his face, muffling his next words.

“Well, if your generator goes out, you're out of business, and then you’ll have more than the collector up your ass. You don’t need to be ‘volunteered’ by the O.E.C. for the new colonization program.”

They both seemed to shudder at the same time, before Josh began to reach into his pocket. Jeremy waved his hand dismissively before Josh could pull out whatever he was reaching for.

“Don’t worry about paying, like you said I owed you for last week. Go ahead and go home.”

Josh raised an eyebrow before he pulled out a piece of charcoal and grabbed a napkin, writing down something on it, and pushing it towards him.

“I wasn’t reaching for my card, Jeremy. If your shitbox dies on you, go ahead and use some of my public credits. I eat here often enough I don't want to see you kicked out. “

It was Jeremy’s turn to raise an eyebrow as he took the napkin and looked down at it.

“It's not much, but it's something.”

Josh added, before slowly getting up from his seat and slapping his hand down and turning away. He started walking away, not looking back.

“Thanks!”

John gazed out the bridge viewport for another moment before beginning to flip various switches on the control board.

"Annie, what's the ETA to the closest station?"

He asked, fingers flying over the familiar controls. He barely had to think, only pausing at the coordinates input.

"Using FTL, approximately one week in transit."

She answered, her soft voice floating over the sound of the engines slowly revving up. Soon, her glowing form appeared on the control panel, sitting on the top while she watched. John raised an eyebrow, looking at her as a mischievous grin crept over her face.

"Well? Are you gonna tell me the coordinates or not?"

He asked, eyebrow still raised. Annie just kept grinning before she tapped her holographic foot onto the coordinate input, auto-filling the bar. It locked automatically, and John could hear the FTL come online. Its high pitched whirr filling the air while he shook his head.

"You know, you could have just told me."

He said, with an exaggerated mocking voice. Annie simply shrugged and leaned back, as If she were relaxing against a tree, her brown hair flowing around her as if she were underwater.

"But it's just so much more entertaining this way, though."

She teased, while John clicked the harness around himself. Tightening it, and tugging on the center to make sure it was secure. He always loved this part, even if he had to be strapped in to witness it.

"Alcubierre Drive active in 5...4...3...2...1."

Annie announced, using a bit of flair at the end- John smiling as she did. He still remembered when she simply stated the countdown in a monotone voice, and had to try and convince her to try and put a little more personality into it. But he wasn't here to reminisce about the past- well, not anymore.

He stared out of the bridge as the Alcubierre activated, the stars disappearing in a sweeping motion around them as the ship jolted forward slightly. For a moment, it was pitch black. And then- the streaks of color began. Purple, blue, yellow, and red all streaming past the ship as the fabric of space folded around them. It was beautiful, and John never wanted to miss when they started a jump.

He slowly unbuckled himself as the drive stabilized, the ship no longer jolting as they kept streaming through space.

"Well, how are the engines now Annie? Still slightly under par?"

He asked, gently plucking the white rose from his suit and fluffing it up a bit. It had wilted slightly, probably from his movement and preparing the ship to jump. He carefully set it back into place and nodded to himself as he stood. Annie, on the other hand, hopped from the top of the control panel and vanished, before reappearing on his shoulder.

"Well, the Alcubierre Drive is running at full power, but our sublight engine seemed to drop in power to 62.3% right before we jumped."

She muttered, pulling up several windows in front of herself. She of course, didn't need to, but it had become a habit John was picking up on.

"Hmm... so, we need an engineer. I've been keeping us running but I'm pretty sure my MacGyver repairs are doing more harm than good. Even with your help."

John answered, tapping his chin as he walked. Passing by the hydroponics bay again, and opening a separate airlock labeled ENGINE. Personally, John thought the massive lettering was absolutely ridiculous. He knew why It was done, but he still thought that if someone was dumb enough to mistake the hydroponics section for the Engine section, they probably shouldn't be space faring.

At that, he entered the engine room. He could smell the oil and hot metal wafting through the room, and took a deep breath. It was... rather comforting to be in the engine room. He had spent a long time here, simply repairing the small dings and breaks from use after- he didn't finish the thought, and began walking around the room.

The center was entirely taken up by a massive carbon glass tube, filled with a constantly changing substance. He never could quite pin down if it was a gas, liquid, or plasma, as it seemed to flow between the states of matter in the moment. Though, he had never seen it change into a solid funnily enough.

It was the Alcubierre Drive- the best invention humanity had accomplished. While his was several generations out of date at this point, it was still very reliable. Able to jump half the galaxy on a full tank of Exotic Matter, he didn't really have any use for the newer ones. And, he rather liked needing to stop at various space stations. It allowed him to mingle with so many different Xenos, and really get that adventure feel

Though, he wasn't really here to stare at what was currently folding space around them. He quickly skirted past the drive, and began searching behind it- to the sublight drive. While he was able to patch it, he was no engineer. He quickly spotted all the carbon tape, electrical tape, and well duct tape all over the engine, as well as his shoddy welding job at critical junctions.

"Yeaaah we definitely need an engineer. Does the station we’re going to have Terran-certified engineers?"

He asked, turning his head to Annie who had hopped off his shoulder and was covering her mouth. Trying not to say anything about the rather haphazard way he had been repairing their engine.

"I didn't check, but I'm sure they do. If they don’t, we have plenty of exotic matter to jump again. Also..."

Annie paused and patted her hand on one of the pipes of the engine, giggling slightly.

"I am so very glad you're not allowed to tinker with my code. Look at this mess."

She teased, popping out of existence before popping back in front of John, with a secondary hologram beside her. It was a Neanderthal, with John's face plastered on, smacking a wrench against a pipe. The pipe changed to a motherboard, as Annie placed the back of her hand on her forehead. As if she were fainting.

"Hey!"

John shouted indignantly, swiping at the hologram. His hand passed through without doing anything as Annie laughed, and rolled around in the air. Her focus taken from the secondary hologram, it disappeared quickly, flickering out of existence.

"I'm not that bad at repairing things. We're still moving aren't we?"

John asked, crossing his arms- carefully, as not to disturb the rose on his chest. He scowled, but not exactly seriously.

"Oh yes, my dear captain."

Annie said, standing up and saluting.

"We are indeed limping to the next space station. Your handiwork is a masterpiece"

John scowled even more, before shaking his head and chuckling a bit. He gestured to the engine and then to Annie.

"Okay, miss comedian. Can you make a note of the actual problems and make a comprehensive list for our new crewmember?"

Annie cleared her 'throat' and pulled up another window, typing on a non-existent keyboard as she became slightly more serious before she spoke.

"Of course, I'll have that list ready by the time we dock. Do you want me to take note of anything else that might need repairs?"

John rubbed his chin and nodded, slowly answering as he thought.

"That's actually a really good idea. Can we just get a diagnosis of the entire ship? It will be a lot of work to repair, but we need it. This old girl-"

He paused as Annie raised an eyebrow and peeked over her window, and coughed.

"-I mean this very young and beautiful ship probably needs a checkup."

John amended, glancing over to Annie as she went back to typing away. He sighed in relief and began walking back out into the hallway, Annie floating a few feet behind him as she focused on typing.

"Mm guess we'll both need something to do for the next week huh?"

He said, only getting a confirming grunt from Annie as she seemed to become more engrossed in her work.

"Or maybe just me,”

John muttered to himself.

Over the next seven days, John did as much as he could while they were in warp. He cleaned the mess hall, which hadn't seen much use for a while. The Food Printer was wholly inoperable, and he had managed to splatter BBQ sauce all over himself and the wall, which Annie had found absolutely hilarious. Even with all the trial and error, he hadn't gotten it working. So it was added to the list.

He swept the halls, cleaned the port windows besides the bridge, and tidied up. He hadn't really realized just how much he had allowed the ship to gather dust and dirt- probably from himself. He even cleaned the shower room, which he hadn't been in for almost as long as the mess hall. Eventually, he had the entire ship looking almost as good as the day it rolled off the manufacturing line. Well, on the inside.

And then, they were there. He heard the warning, and strapped himself in for the docking procedure. Annie popped back up on the controls, throwing up a window with a countdown- the reverse of what she had done when entering warp.

"Exiting Warp in..3...2....1... brace!"

She announced, and John gripped his harness tightly while they exited the warp bubble. The ship itself jostled around as they re-entered realspace. He grabbed the controls almost as soon as the shaking and rocking stopped, and opened a common network.

"This is the Terran Exploratory Ship Helios, requesting to dock."

He stated clearly, flicking more switches as the Alcubierre Drive powered down, the high pitched whirr disappearing as they entered sublight speeds. A quick response was given back, garbled at first but slowly clearing up as Annie translated.

"Terran Exploratory Ship Helios, you are cleared to dock. Please proceed to bay 4 and state your business."

John turned the ship and began following the outside edge of the station, eyes peeled for the Galactic standard numerals, and answered back.

"Terran Exploratory Ship Helios, docking at bay 4. We are here to acquire crewmates for exploratory missions, repairs, and identifying planetary bodies. We also have a Terran grade Artificial Intelligence on board. It-"

He hated saying it when referring to Annie, but it was the best option for this. Saying 'she' would make them suspicious.

"-is under contract as well."

There was a loud clunk as John docked with the bay, the airlocks between the Helios and the station hissing as they stabilized their atmospheres. Another pause, before the answer came back again.

"Helios docked. Welcome to Cretm Station. We will deduct the Galactic standard 5 Elium from your account for our services. You will be docked another 500 Elium if any damages, data breaches, or intelligence transfers are detected."

John nodded to himself and stood, turning to Annie.

"Remember. Do not interact with their systems without sending an official request first, don't make your hologram pop up wherever you want without warning, and for the love of god don't joke about being Skynet."

He said sternly, as Annie rolled her eyes and sat on his shoulder.

"Yeah yeah, I get it. They're terrified of me."

She said dejectedly, leaning her hologram against his neck.

"I know it's not fair. But they'd vacuum me and decommission you if you even stepped a toe out of line."

He muttered, putting on a blue T shirt and brown pants, along with a black vest. While it wasn't a bulletproof vest, it did look nice. She had always liked this vest.

"Well it's not my fault some random jerk went nuts and tried to pull an actual skynet."

She shot back, crossing her arms and furrowing her brow. John sighed, and would have pat her head if she had a physical body.

"I know. But we gotta be safe. It wouldn't be fun for either of us to have that happen."

He turned his head and took a deep breath as he pressed his hand on the scanner to open the airlock. It took a moment, but it soon slid open with a soft psshh of the hydraulics. He stepped forward, and looked around at the bay.

Hundreds of aliens of various shapes and sizes bustled past, doing their daily tasks, repairing their ships, or just passing through to get to another part of the ship. Insectoid Kree'ark, their Xenomorph, lobster, praying mantis-like bodies skittering around as they avoided bumping into the smaller Krii, their small fluffy bodies scurrying on the ground. They almost looked like a complete ball of fluff, if not for their legs and eyes.

And then there was the Tikill. They made John, hell, any Terran think of the ancient Terror birds of old. They had sharp, curved beaks, short arms that doubled as wings that allowed a short glide, and were carnivorous. Weirdly, they had three fingers on the front edge of these wing arms, that allowed them to mostly manipulate tools.

Finally, the Sru. They were the most familiar to John, as they looked almost human- besides their gray skin, four eyes, and much shorter height, they were almost identical. Many people he knew brewed up conspiracies, thinking they had the same origin. But these had never been substantiated.

John only stared for a moment before he turned and slowly entered the flow of traffic. While some of them stopped and stared, many just ignored him. Terrans weren't exactly rare out in deep space, and they needed to get where they were going.

It took him a while, but he managed to navigate himself to a nearby terminal. He changed the language to 'Terran English' and began to draft a document.

"What're you doing?"

Annie asked curiously, looking over his shoulder as she watched him tap away.

"Well, we could sit out there in person and try and recruit people that way with our absolutely charming personalities-"

John answered dryly, with a hint of sarcasm as he pointed at the terminal.

"-or. We could send out a help wanted notification. It's only 50 Elium to broadcast to the whole station."

The document before them read as follows-

HELP WANTED!

crewmates required for exploratory vessel Helios, captioned by Terran John Tersk. This vessel does have assistant AI Annie, under contract, on board. Requires long/indefinite stays on board, and willingness to explore unsafe space. Below is a questionnaire on compatibility to this crew.

Are you comfortable with Terran Grade Technology? Y/N

Are you tolerant of Artificial Intelligence? Y/N

Are you able to commit weeks/months/years on a ship? Y/N

Species? ______________

Profession? _________________

Age?________

Do you have a history of criminal behavior? Y/N

Additional Details;

"It's short-" John said, tapping the Finish Document button below the bottom of the page.

"But it should work. We can look through them after a nice meal somewhere since our food fabricator is broken."

Prologue:

A soft, comforting voice broke the eerie silence of the captain's quarters as harsh bright lights flickered to life.

"Captain, it's time to wake up. We are approaching Sarah-5"

John slowly opened his eyes as the lights burst to life, giving a small groan. He sat up in his bunk and slid his legs off to the side, eyes still half closed.

"Annie-"

He mumbled, grabbing at his captain's badge beside him on the steel bed stand and groaning quietly.

"How close are we exactly?"

A small hologram of a woman, clad in what seemed to be medieval clothing appeared before him. Its green eyes and brown hair swaying in a non existent wind as it spread its hand wide, revealing a massive star map that covered his quarters in a pale green sheen.

"Approximately... one earth hour, and five minutes."

The hologram says, closing its palm. With that, the map vanished.

"Ah, good."

Grunting again, John stood up and opened the sliding cupboard he kept his clothes in, pulling out a very nice black suit and tie. He carefully slipped on the silky black pants, the tie, and finally the vest. Smoothing it down, he gave himself a look over. It still fit, even after all this time. Honestly, he was a little surprised with all that had been happening.

"Annie, how do I look?"

The AI- Annie, as it seemed to be called- looked over his suit and gave an approving nod.

"You look quite nice sir."

She said, her voice soft and comforting.

"Perfect. I want to look nice for her."

John patted his pants down before swiping his badge across the scanner. A soft hiss filled his ears as the bulkhead doors slid open to reveal a hallway leading into the rest of the ship. The lights dim, but not enough to hinder his vision. The perfect light level- and her favourite.

"And how is everything doing? Engines? Agricultural department? FTL drive?"

He asked, taking a step out of his cabin and falling into a brisk walk almost immediately. The sound of his shoes echoing down the halls.

Annie seemed to blip out of existence for a moment before returning to his side, walking on air besides him. It was always entertaining to see her mimic whatever he was doing, and somewhat comforting at times like these.

"All Nominal, though the engines seem to be working at 98.6% of their regular output."

John nodded along as he opened another bulkhead casually, continuing his quick pace after opening entirely.

"Well, I'll take a look at it afterwards."

Another hiss, but this time a room of greens and reds and whites, all fruits and vegetables. Well, all but one row of pure white roses, besides which were a colorful array of different flowers, in which John stopped and seemingly hovered his hand over them, deciding which one to pluck. His eyes wandered over all of them, inspecting each one for any flaws.

"Sir, I know today is important. But I also need you to know we cannot continue on our own for much longer. I am barely able to moderate all the systems by myself, and you cannot do every odd job around the ship."

Annie piped up, blinking as he swept his hand down and swiftly plucked one of the roses. Then another. And another.

"Mmm... I'll think about it. You know how I do with teams." He responded a bit gruffly, fixing one of the newly acquired roses onto his chest. The rest, he put together in a bunch and gave them a sniff.

"Though, you are right- how long have we been by ourselves?"

As he spoke, he slowly picked various other flowers, from purple tulips to sunflowers and added them to the small bunch in his hands.

"Approximately three and a half star cycles."

She answered curtly, watching him slowly fill out his hands with flowers.

John clicked his tongue as he tied the bottoms of the flowers together with some spare string he seemingly pulled out of nowhere, deftly tying it into a bow.

"In another time code please, you know I hate galactic standard."

Annie sighed audibly, even if she didn't have to. A habit she was picking up from her traveling companion.

"Seven earth years."

"That's much better. Hmmm. That is quite a long time- maybe you're right. I'll ask her. Do you think she'll like the flowers this year?"

He ponders, almost to himself as he exits the Agricultural gardens, fiddling with the bouquet of flowers.

"I'm sure she'll love them"

she responded softly, placing a non existent hand on his shoulder as they walked.

"I hope so. How much longer until we get to Sarah-5?"

He asked, tugging at his collar.

"About... five earth minutes."

Annie vanished for a moment again before returning, wearing a much more appropriate dress.

"I'll open the bridge viewing port"

John nodded and sat down in his captain’s chair, spinning it around to face the front of his craft as Annie slowly opened the viewing ports. Just outside, almost engulfing the ship in its massive blue halo, was a blue dwarf. It's soft hue coloring the entirety of the bridge blue, white corona's spiraling off into space with a fiery rage. Surrounding the blue dwarf was a harsh purple and red nebula, from which it had formed. The view was- stunning. Always left John speechless at first. But, soon he collects his thoughts and smiles, leaning forward in his chair.

"Hello beautiful. I brought you flowers, do you like them?"

The blue dwarf, of course, had no answer. It just continued to spew blue light and radiation. But John didn't care.

"I know, I know, I missed you too. Did you hear that Annie wants me to get a new crew? On the ship? I wanted to ask your thoughts."

Casually, he let the flowers slip into a small tube, ejecting them out into the cold vacuum of space towards the dwarf. When they made contact, there was a massive corona burst, shaking the ship violently.

"Ah, so you agree huh? Always nice to hear your thoughts. I wore my wedding suit this time. I kept it nice for you."

Again, no answer. But that was all John had to say, and said nothing more. Just sitting there, looking out into the depths of the star.

Hours passed, before Annie gently spoke up.

"Sir, we should head out. She'll go back into her gamma ray storm soon."

John sighed and patted down his suit, small flecks of dust floating to the ground as he did.

"You're right, you're right. Well, where's the nearest station?”,

Jacob tentatively approached the fizzling datapad and slowly picked it up off the ground, trying to turn the machine back on. Of course, it didn’t work. The internals were most likely fried, and he was very happy that they hadn’t used lithium batteries, or it would have blown up. But still, it was junk now.

“Hm. That’s seriously suspicious.”

He turned the broken datapad over in his hands, inspecting it. No external machines, no receivers. Which had to mean that whatever he had tried to open, had the kill switch embedded in the code. Not that he knew how to bypass that. He was an engineer, not a coding expert. Furrowing his brow, he sat down and began to think, really think. The only other person with him was Evelyn, and as far as he knew, she didn’t have anything to hide. On the other hand, seven thousand years was a long time by yourself, and maybe she just went crazy. Then again… if she had gone crazy, why leave him alive? Why bypass the lock to let him in here at all? Why help him so much if it was going to let him onto her scent and possibly become an obstacle? Wouldn’t it just be easier to kill him, and run the ship entirely with her clones? It didn’t add up.

Sighing, he picked up the datapad and stuffed it into his pocket. If he can get it working again, maybe he can get some answers. Of course that was harder said than done, datapads were not something he was familiar with, and from what he did know they were very, very compact. And he had fat fingers.

Opening the airlock back into the hallway, he shook his head and looked up at the ceiling- behind him, the drone that had detached and followed behind disappeared into another crevice in the wall. Of course, Jacob just continued on, having not seen what happened just a few feet behind him.

With a hiss and a clunk, the door sealed behind him as Jacob cautiously spoke out, looking to the wall and thinking of his next move.

“Hey, Evelyn, anything on where we are?”

The answer wasn’t immediate like before, but it was swift.

“Currently no. I’m trying to chart these stars and they just aren’t lining up with our galaxy maps of the Milky Way. Though I did find some information on our immediate surroundings.”

Jacob tapped the wall and started following the guide bands back to the mess hall. After all that, he needed a drink. Something with a kick.

“And that would be?”

He asked, running his hands over the tools in his tool belt. He still didn’t know if he should trust Evelyn after what happened in the server room, but he was going to give her the benefit of the doubt. He didn’t really have a reason to be suspicious of her, and letting him into the server room in the first place wouldn’t have really been a good move if she really had nefarious intentions.

“We're hardly using any of our fuel, since we’re orbiting a red giant. So that’s one thing. The star system has six planets, three being gas giants. One almost had enough mass to become a second star, but failed. It’s one of the few Brown Dwarves we have documented. The other three are barren, with no magnetosphere and no tectonic activity.”

Jacob turned a corner and paused, looking into the mess hall. There were several drones, all security, floating around the tables.

“Evelyn, what’s up with the drones?”

He asked, looking warily around the mess hall. The drones all turned, their camera flashing red and blue for a moment before they vacated the room.

“Routine patrols. For some reason every single programmer put the mess hall on these things's routes, so they all end up here at the same time sometimes.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow before slowly walking over to one of the food printers. Punching in his order, he listened to the mechanical whirrs of the machine Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the cup rose from the plate as the printer finished making his drink. With a woosh, the amber liquid filled the cup waiting below.

“Jacob, please tell me that’s coffee-”

Evelyn said disapprovingly as Jacob grabbed the cup and took a sip. It burned delightfully as the fluid made its way down his throat.

“Nope, but it does have caffeine.”

He gave one of the cameras- or what he thought was a camera- a wink as he took another drink. It was a concoction he snuck into the printer database while no one was looking, a real special concoction of Energy Drink and bourbon. No he didn’t have a drinking problem.

“Uh huh…. I’m just gonna take a look at what you- JACOB!”

Evelyn’s voice boomed from the speakers, shrieking as they reached their highest frequency, making him wince.

“That can’t possibly be good for you! I’m taking it away.”

Jacob watched as a medical and security drone made their way towards him, the medical drone’s hanging arms splitting into several tendrils as one dipped into his cup and siphoned away the contents.

“You’re no fun Evelyn. I’m the only crew member, not like I can hurt anybody…”

He sighed, but didn’t put up a fight. The medical drone floating away, one of the tubes hidden in its undercarriage barely visible- and full of his mystery drink.

“Damn…”

He shook his head, before punching in a new code into the food printer. This time, straight black coffee filled a new cup, steaming hot and bubbling still as he grumbled. Sitting down at the table, he shot the security drone a dirty look as it floated away.

“I saw that. Look, I know you can’t hurt anyone, but you’ll hurt yourself. WE only have each other and i can’t have you chasing the bottom of a bottle.”

Evelyn’s voice seemed…sad. He looked down into his coffee cup and bit his lip. He had been so busy thinking about how she could have been hiding something, and stealing his drink he hadn’t stopped to think about what she might be feeling. Even though she was an artificial intelligence, she was still a person. She was probably just as worried, if not more so, about ending up alone. At least with him, his suffering would end eventually. She… was practically immortal.

“Sorry, Evelyn. I didn’t think about it. I’ll drink in moderation only.”

He sighed, giving the security drone a smile- before the lights abruptly shut off. Only the red glow of the Red Giant outside illuminated the mess hall as Jacob looked around.

“Evelyn?”

He asked, standing- and launching himself into the ceiling. With a heavy thunk, he collided with the metal and winced, rubbing his head. He felt a pretty large lump where it had struck the ceiling, and cautiously pressed the button on the side of his helmet. With a hiss, it sealed into place, his breath briefly fogging up the visor before his vision cleared again.

“Fuck, no gravity. Which means no power. Evelyn must be in power save mode..”

Grunting, he pushed off the ceiling, heading into the hall. Carefully making sure he didn’t put too much force behind his legs and slam into the floor. He succeeded and gazed at the guide bands on the wall- all now slightly off hue. He carefully read each one before tapping the red band. Carefully, slowly, he pushed off in the direction of the band. He didn’t need to get lost, and although he did help design the ship, so had every other crewmember. So he knew less than he thought, and he knew that. He just needed to mitigate his own confidence in knowing the ship and he would be fine.

Entering a hallway without light from the star they were orbiting, Jacob slowed himself. Red blinking lights floating ahead only told him that something was in his path. Most likely, drones that had no central intelligence to guide them, so they shut off in the middle of whatever they were doing. And hitting one of those while barreling down the hallway would suck, so he slowed himself and began to gently push the machines out of the way. Not that they could feel, he just didn’t feel like fixing them if they got damaged. Eventually, and it was eventually, he got through them all. A lot of them had clumped up, probably due to the weak gravitational pull between them- or maybe they just all happened to be near one another when the power went out.

“Alright engine room engine room…”

He looked to the wall as the light of the red giant poured back into the ship through the windows, searching for the red band- and found that both of the bands in this hallway were red.

“Well that’s not good.”

He tapped his chin, before shrugging and randomly choosing one- pushing down the hallway and quickly making a left as the band split in two. Truthfully, he was probably following the wrong band, but if he was he could just have to- he paused, grabbing onto one of the many latches in the walls and walls, meant for this very possibility. The ship was getting colder, he could see ice starting to form on the windows as the condensation within the ship cooled. He wasn't going to be able to double back like he had hoped if he was wrong. Pushing himself forward with a grunt, he shot forward, deftly avoiding another floating drone. Barreling down the halls now at full speed, he nervously watched as ice formed all over the ship, the glow of the star making the ice crystal shimmer iridescently as he shot past. He was sweating, the droplets condensing in his hair before the suit siphoned it away.

As metal and glass, and now ice, whizzed by, something grabbed his gut. It felt…wrong, like something was very wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He went to wipe his forehead, hand clunking against his helmet and chuckling to himself as the gut feeling grew stronger. Though he had to ignore it. He didn’t have time for gut feelings, he had an engine to get back online. Or he’d freeze. Most likely.

Bursting into a large room, he pumped his fist as he saw the familiar shapes of the engine. The large pipes carrying hydrogen to the reactor all funneling into the massive central metal and concrete beast at the center. Warning labels and radiation symbols covering the area as he pulled out his wrench, slotting it into a lever and pulling slowly. A section of wall peeling away as the emergency door is opened. The watertight tube holding the control rods in the center of the- wait. Something wasn’t right, the room was covered in small round balls. Or most of the room, since the only light in here was from the red giant behind him, from the hallway. It was actually quite dark.

“Shit, it’s too dark to really see in here… there has to be a flashlight or something in the engine room.”

He backed away from the door- almost relieved, as he didn’t really want to know what those round balls were. Maybe the control rods had broken, and that was the radioactive fuel leaking out in globs. He shuddered and began digging through the containers laying around. Mostly, it was tools, but eventually-

“Aha! There you are.”

He crooned, pulling out a heavy looking flashlight. While it was clunky, the moment he turned it on it became apparent why. It flooded the entire engine room with light as if it were trying to emulate the red giant looming outside. Carefully keeping the light pointed away from himself in the interest of not going blind, he stood in the doorway into the reactor once more. And froze.

“Oh come on.”

He muttered, teeth grinding together as his eyes darted around the room. Plastered all over the reactor room were small, fleshy sacks. They almost looked like muscle that had been taken off the bone, rolled into a ball, and slapped onto the walls and left there. Wet, dripping with some sort of mysterious red liquid, and pulsing. There were hundreds of these little sacks, connected together with long strings of what looked like more flesh or maybe just some sort of ooze. And he did not like the look of them. If he wasn’t about to die of hypothermia he wouldn’t be stepping foot into this nightmare, but he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

“Fuck this, fuck that-”

He whispered, pushing off whatever clean edges he could find, avoiding the fleshy nodes as best he could. So far so- All of a sudden, the ship lurched, spinning. Jacob didn’t move, but the entire room around him spun like a top on its head, slamming his right arm into one of the pustules with a squelch. Screaming in pain, he tried to yank his arm out of the fleshy mass, but the bulb seemed to expand, engulfing the entire limb. He could feel bone cracking, bits of his environmental suit flying everywhere as flesh was ripped from his arm- it hurt.

“Get the fuck off me!”

He screamed, pushing off the floor, trying to rip the beast off his arm. The other flesh bulbs seemed to be wiggling, like they were laughing at his predicament. The room, still spinning, was hard to navigate, especially with this thing ripping into his arm. Distracted, he tried to grab one of the rapidly moving handles on the wall with his good arm, blood spraying out from his other limb. Turning his head, he only had a few moments to watch as the bar he had been trying to grab rapidly rushed towards his face.

Jacob groaned as he lifted his head off the mess hall table, hair sticking up in all directions. Jumping to his feet, he began to check himself over. No rips in his suit, no pain in his arm. He didn’t even look like he had moved from his spot at the mess hall table.

“Evelyn!”

He yelled, her voice quickly popping up from a speaker.

“Yes Jacob? Your heart rate is elevated, what’s wrong?”

Jacob whipped around towards the voice, grabbing the edges of the speaker on the wall and staring into it.

“Turn on all the cameras, check the engine room, check everywhere, I think there’s something on the ship.”

He panted, wiping away the cold sweat on his forehead. There were a few seconds where the only thing that could be heard was Jacob's heavy breathing.

“Jacob, there’s nothing in the engine room. There’s nothing anywhere on the ship.”

Evelyn answered, worriedly. A medical drone moseying its way into the room and stopping as it’s armed unravelled into its several different tools, taking his temperature, checking vital signs, heart rate, chemical imbalances-

“Show me.”

He said coldly, taking out his datapad- and sighing as it sparked and smoked the moment he tried to turn it on. Growling, he turned, the various tools popping off of his skin as he stormed away, towards his room. Only glancing at the wall to make sure he was going the right direction

“Jacob! What has gotten into you. Nothing is wrong with the ship-”

Slapping his hand onto the scanner to his room, he listened to Evelyn try and calm him down through the speakers

“Shut. Up. I know what I felt and what I saw, why are you pretending you don’t know what I'm talking about?!”

He yelled, storming into his room and ripping open his locker. Pulling out his backup data pad, he tapped a few buttons and connected to the ship's cameras. Flicking through each room, he paused at the engine room. It was working normally, the emergency door closed tight as it should have been.

“I- i saw it, i felt it!”

He shouted, gripping the data pad tightly in his hands. He opened the door to his room and bolted out, not hearing what Evelyn had to say as he bolted down the halls. No ice crystals, no evidence of any collisions between drones… and as he burst into the engine room, he saw all the crates tightly closed. Not even the one he had pulled a flashlight out of was open. Frantically grabbing his wrench from his belt.

“Jacob, what are you doing? JACOB DON’T OPEN-”

Ignoring Evelyn, he grunted as he pried open the emergency door, the large door slowly opening- and saw the reactor, the control rods all in place, blue light illuminating the entire room. And no pustules. No fleshy tendrils connecting anywhere. Nothing.

“What- “

A security drone’s cold grasp grabbed his shoulders, yanking him away from the reactor. Dragging him out of the engine room as another drone closed the emergency door, sealing it in place while Jacob was pulled away.

“What the fuck was that Jacob?! You know that if the engine is running the reactor is active, you could have just absorbed enough radiation to kill you!”

Her angry, synthetic voice reverberated through the halls as Jacob was pulled into the medical bay. The drone throwing him onto the tough bed, the scanners above, like metal arches with small bulbs, immediately getting to work.

“Now you’re going to need to go through radiation treatment! You could have DIED, Jacob!?”

Jacob stubbornly stared up into the ceiling as Evelyn ranted.

“X-ray my arm.”

He muttered, pulling out his working datapad. Evelyn only getting angrier.

“You had a bad dream Jacob! There’s nothing wrong with your arm!”

One of the machines began to slowly pan over his entire body, statistics being given to Evelyn as she redirected them to his datapad.

“See? Nothing is wrong with you besides having a LOT of radiation in your body.”

Jacob looked over his X-rays as the medical bed powered down, its job done. He panned over all the pictures, the data. There was his bone…the muscle… nothing was out of place. He could have sworn that something had happened, it had been so real. He hadn’t ever had a dream that vivid but…he supposed there was a first for everyone, and this was his.

“Now since you so stupidly ran into the reactor, you’re going to be taking a lot of pills. And you’re gonna need to flush your system.”

Jacob sighed and covered his eyes with his arm. The darkness was nice.

“I know. I know. It was dumb, I'll take whatever you give me Evelyn. Just- don't make it taste awful.”

Evelyn huffed, before a tube lowered from the ceiling, and dumped out several tubes. Each one contained a different bottle of medicine. One read ‘Potassium Iodide’, another seemed to be a thick red liquid, and the last one almost looked like vitamins. Carefully, Jacob picked them up off the floor and gave them a look over.

“That's it? You said a lot.”

He asked, turning to one of the cameras in the room.

“Yes, well these are for the moment. I need to observe you for a couple days to see just how badly you fucked yourself over. Then I can give you more. Your suit took most of the radiation, so you probably only have mild radiation poisoning. Most likely.”

Jacob scratched his chin as she spoke, listening best he could. He glanced down at his suit and slowly began stripping it off- pressing the button by his helmet to release the tightened fibers.

“-and one more- JACOB! WHY ARE YOU STRIPPING?!”

He paused and looked up, the entire suit almost entirely off his body.

“Well- if the suit took most of the radiation I should take it off right? It's irradiated now.”

He could almost hear her grab the bridge of her nose, if she had one. He didn't think it was unreasonable, but maybe she-

“Jacob. did you pay attention, at all, on earth? The environmental suits siphon the radiation into small beads of lead and then drop those on the ground. The suit is fine.”

He sheepishly pulled his suit back up, pausing as he saw his arm. While the X-ray had shown him he was entirely fine, there was a small red line around his bicep, almost like a seam. But the closer he looked the more it just seemed like it was from the suit. Like an impression from your bed from laying wrong.

“Right. Uhhh… Hey i'm starving, can my medicine be taken with food? I'm very hungry.”

sealing his suit back up, he opened and closed his fingers. He really was starving, he felt like his stomach was eating itself. Made sense, he hadn't eaten anything when he woke up, and then he's been working for who knows how long. Maybe that's why he passed out at the table.

“Well then head to the mess hall. And yes, you can take them with food. Just not caffeine.”

Jacon groaned as he found the magenta band, and began to follow. Behind him, the security drone from before seemed to be burning something. Its arm modified into a flamethrower, it was blasting flame into a small, charred ball on the ceiling…

In the mess hall, Jacob tapped the top of one of the printers. He didn't know what he wanted to eat, so he let his stomach decide. Just letting his hand tap away at the keyboard.

“Wow, you really are hungry. A whole ham, a pound of mash potatoes and sausage gravy.”

Evelyn said, surprised at the sheer amount of food he was printing.

“Oh, Yeah, I mean I haven't eaten anything today, so I figured why not get a large meal. If I don't finish it I'll have leftovers.”

Watching as a steaming ham was printed before his eyes, his mouth watered- and his arm shot out, grabbing the still steaming hot unfinished ham and shoving it into his face. With a yelp, he dropped the ham with a splat.

“ow!”

He looked down at his hand, and flexed his fingers. He must have been hungrier than he thought, if his hands were moving before his mind could stop them.

“Just…just wow.”

Evelyn teased, making Jacob roll his eyes. Punching in the code again (the nozzle stopped if the print was interrupted) he had to wait again for the ham to finish. This time, keeping his hand in check as the mouth watering smell of honeyed ham filled the room again. Well, doubled, since the ham on the floor also smelled delicious. But that one would need to be cleaned up, this one was for him.

When it finished, he carefully picked it up by the plate and carried it to the table. The moment he set it down onto the metal top, his hand grabbed a fistful of ham and shoved it into his mouth. His eyes watering as the heat hit his face again, he chewed. It was delicious, and took another bite. and another. And another. Taking sips from his red liquid (it tasted AWFUL, like liquid cherry medicine all the while.

By the time he finished the ham, his potatoes were done. His hand shot out and grabbed the plate again, shoving more food down his gullet. The gravy spilled from the nozzle onto an empty build plate as he licked his lips.

“Okay, increased appetite…not really a symptom of radiation, I hope that's just because you skipped your- breakfast?”

Jacob gulped down the last of his potato, holding up a hand while he did. fingers Twitching a bit

“Well it helps that it was delicious. Someone must have gotten top of the line printers because hot damn- that was amazing.”

He patted his stomach and glared at the rest of his medicine, before sighing and picking one up- and tossing it across the room.

“Huh?”

“Huh?”

Both of them spoke in unison, as the orange bottle hit the wall and rolled around on the ground. Jacob looked at his arm, then the bottle, as he stood- walking to the bottle and picking it back up. Again, his arm moved on its own and tossed it across the room.

“Jacob, stop messing around.”

Evelyn said, irritated as a medical drone floated into the room.

“I'm not doing that on purpose. Maybe I have nerve damage?”

He asked worriedly, flexing his fingers as he tried again to pick up the medicine bottle- this time, he didn't toss it.

The hiss of pressure being released filled the darkened steel room, metal grating against metal as a glass tube was slowly pushed from beside the hundreds of others just like it. Inside, a dark shadow floating in a thick viscous blue liquid hardly moved as the metal arms carrying the tube slowly slotted the large glass construct into one of the slots on the floor- dozens going from wall to wall. A solid thunk reverberating through the walls as the tube settled in place.

“231,047,344,927 seconds since mission start. 44,928 seconds since diagnosis. Waking Occupant 27, Jacob Bridgestock. Initiating cryostasis end protocols”

The slightly rusty, well worn arms slowly pulled away from the glass tube. With a spark of electricity, and a puff of black smoke, one of the arms nearly fell apart as they slipped away into the allocated hole from whence they had emerged. However, nothing seemed hindered, as more machines slowly lowered themselves from the ceiling. Needles, tubes, and smaller mechanical hands reaching the smooth glass of the cryochamber. The top sliding to the side, allowing these machines access inside. Their glistening steel slowly pushing the viscous liquid aside, some spilling from the top of the tube as they reached the shadow within.

“Restarting cardiovascular activity. Flushing preservation substance. Restarting digestive tract. Initiating red cell production… Initiating white cell production… Restarting cell division. Brain tissue preserved- restarting neurological activity…”

As the synthesized voice floated through the air, announcing the biological systems being kickstarted back to life, the dark shadow within began to twitch. At first, only detectable if you had a keen eye, soon they were almost convulsive. The machines quickly rose back out of the liquid and into the ceiling as the glass tube slid downward at an alarming rate, the blue liquid oozing outward like spilled honey. The shadow- now clearly a man- burst forward, their toned muscles flexing as they ripped themselves away from where they had been floating. Their brown hair still coated in the blue ooze as they promptly vomited onto the floor- the liquid disappearing quickly as the slots took even the cryo liquid deep into the ship. To be cleaned, and if possible, reused.

“F-Fuck.”

Jacob gasped, taking his first real breath in who knew how long. Cryo was a lot rougher than he had been assured. The last time he had puked was when he was twelve, and he ate too much cake at his own birthday party. He watched as more cryo liquid dripped off his naked body and onto the floor, shivering as he slowly stood. Taking another deep breath, he slowly took in his surroundings. When he had been put into cryostasis, he had been on earth.

He remembered it well, the stark white and blue of a hospital still fresh in his memory. The doctors had said something about it being easier to store people in tubes than trying to coordinate everyone onto the ship- and that they didn’t have to worry about keeping everyone alive to get onto the ship since they were already dead, technically. He hadn’t really been paying attention to that part. He wanted to know how the mechanics of the machines had worked, but hadn’t gotten a chance to ask.

Now… Now he was being met with a sleek, gray metal room with slotted floors, glowing blue tubes he assumed were other colonists all over the walls. Neatly arranged like tools on a tool rack. And a single pathway leading away and into the halls of the ship. The Ulixes.

“So you’re finally awake?”

The synthesized voice blared out from the speakers, almost teasing. Making Jacob jump nearly a mile high. That had to be Evelyn, the onboard AI. Her, he knew. All too well.

“Yes, I am, and if you would be oh so kind as to lead me to the showers so i can wash this gunk off me, that would be great.”

A basketball sized drone slowly floated from ahead, emerging from the darkness. It was one of the many drones Evelyn had access to, this one was clearly one of the medical variety. Its bubble-like white shell only marked with a bright glowing red cross, and its two mechanical arms hanging from each side. Those arms looked as if they could split into dozens of different medical tools- it was quite handy, and it looked like it was one of the brand new top-of-the-line ones.

“Of course Jacob! Follow me. Well, the drone.”

The drone beeped before slowly turning- its hovering frame glimmering with blue as it caught the light of the cryotubes, the red cross lighting the way. Jacob sighed, and tried to cover his manhood as he followed the drone- hoping that he was the first one to wake up, so there were no awkward bump ins with his crewmates. His feet made wet slaps as he left a trail of cryo fluid behind him.

Jacob sighed in relief as the hot water rolled over his back- the blue liquid slowly swirling into the drain as he closed his eyes. He hadn’t met anyone else on the way to the showers, so he had to be the first of the crew that Evelyn had decided to wake up. Made sense, wake the engineer, let him check out the engine, the rest of the ship, and if anything needs repairing they can already be on it as the rest of them joined him in the land of the living.

He snorted a bit at the literalism of the phrase, running his fingers through his hair to make sure the rest of the cryo liquid was removed. Honestly, he was currently just happy to see they had hot water. Means he wouldn’t have to mess with any pipes.

Finishing up, he found a fluffy white towel waiting for him as he stepped out of the shower (which thankfully, had walls. So no communal showers. Probably suggested by the shrinks). Quickly wrapping the only piece of cloth he currently had around his waist, the edges of the towel rested against his knees as he looked for the medical drone. It was patiently waiting for him just outside the room, facing away from the door.

“What, embarrassed?”

Jacob teased, lightly slapping the top of the drone's body. It beeped before Evelyn's voice emerged from the built-in speaker in the unit.

“Ha ha, i may be an artificial being but i’m still a lady Jacob.”

Jacob rolled his eyes as he made sure the towel was firmly wrapped around his waist. Thankfully the soft yellowed light of the hallway was easy to see in, so he had no trouble.

“And where was that embarrassment when I was buck naked and covered in cryo fluid, hm?”

Evelyn didn’t seem to answer, the drone only floating forward. Jacob followed, a slight grin plastered on his face. One of the arms of the drone seemed to dislocate and land on the ground with a loud crash, nearly tripping him.

“Oops.”

Evelyn said casually, Jacob frowning at the drone in obvious fiend indignity. However, he didn’t say anything else, simply following the drone. The arm it had so easily dislocated, clicking back into place as it floated forward. Quite quickly, they found themselves in the living section of the ship. It wasn’t far from the showers, so it made sense. He had suggested that himself- nobody wanted to be walking very long after a very hard day at work just to get clean.

“Room 07. All the items you bought with you should be waiting inside. Including some proper clothes.”

Jacob nodded, looking at the airlock before him. He had helped design the dorms with the rest of the crew. An airlock in case the hull had a breach while most of them were sleeping, a hand scanner as well as a physical override to the right- and a large window in the center, which you could change the opacity of. He was quite proud of it, actually.

“Thanks Evelyn. I’ll get dressed, just send me the diagnostics list and I'll get started on something.”

The drone beeped, before turning and floating back the way they had come- vanishing around the corner. He took a deep breath and placed the palm of his hand against the scanner. For a moment, he thought it was broken, as it made a horrible buzzing sound- and then the door slid smoothly to the left. Relieved, he walked confidently inside and opened up the locker against the wall to his left as the door slid back into place and sealed with a thunk. His tool belt, worn and well loved, hung on its hook like an obedient pet.

His adaptive environmental suit hung beside it, looking like a deflated white balloon. He knew the look was deceiving, but it was hard not to imagine it just flopping around as he walked. In reality it was ungodly well fitting, and would cinch to his body perfectly. On the floor of the locker, his helmet. The sticker of earth he had slapped onto the bottom jaw still looked as snazzy as he remembered. It was a small touch of home, but it brought him more comfort than he was willing to admit. Just besides the helmet, his datapad. It’s almost invisible glass body only broken by the two gray control pads on each side. A small red light blinking on its surface, calling his attention.

“Sorry, you’re gonna have to wait just a moment.”

Jacob murmured, grabbing his suit and slipping into the open cavity in the back. Placing his hands firmly into place, he squeezed his hands into fists three times in quick succession. The suit reacted almost instantly, tightening around his body- the white hexagons turning blue, just as he had programmed it. When it finished, it felt like a second skin.

Though to everyone else it looked like a proper space suit, bulky in the right places and thin where it should be. He scooped his tool belt off its hook and slipped it around his waist, letting its familiar weight settle on his hips. He picked up the helmet, looking into the opaque visor and checking for cracks- when he found none, he set the helmet where a hood would have been, the light carbon alloy letting it hang there just as easily.

“And now for you.”

He grabbed the edge of the datapad and flicked his wrist, the pad flipping into the air only for him to catch it again with ease. Tapping the screen, he was greeted with a rather short list of repair jobs. Almost chewing the words, he began to walk out of his room as he ran through the list, the door sliding smoothly away as he approached.

“Let’s see… food printer twelve in the mess hall is not operating correctly… drone two-thirty is heavily damaged. Engine room has something loose, and the bridge port shielding is operating slightly below predicted. Well. I know where I'm gonna start.”

Jacob looked at the wall, eyes trailing down the rainbow of colored lines that would lead you where one to where they needed to go on the ship. Found the magenta line, and began to follow it.

“Food printer twelve, here I come.”

Arriving at the mess hall, Jacob hummed as he clicked the datapad to his belt, and deftly drew one of his diagnostic tools as he searched for the misbehaving machinery. The screen flickering to life as he counted out the printers along the walls, their girth making them oh-so-easy to find.

“Of all the tasks, you start here?”

Jacob jumped as Evelyn’s voice emerged from the speakers, nearly dropping his diagnostic tool. Giving one of the cameras watching him from the corners of the room, he was very glad he had vetoed the suggestion to put speakers into the dorms.

“Yes, everything else can be worked on afterwards. I’m sure everyone will appreciate not being sprayed with a mystery fluid when they decide to eat for the first time in decades, and a hot meal is important.”

He tapped the diagnostic tool against his head as he spoke, before walking over to one of the printers and checking the number engraved onto its side. It read twelve, and he did a little fist pump as he hooked up the two small plugs to the machine.

“Then why didn’t you get yourself a hot meal? I’m sure you’d have appreciated one, as you said.”

Jacob, focused on his diagnostic tool, waved dismissively as he began reading the data flowing before his eyes.

“Yeah but I basically run off energy drinks. I’m no stranger to skipping breakfast, as long as I can get my hands on one.”

There was a very audible sigh as he unplugged the tool from the printer, and slotted it back where it belonged on his belt. Grabbing the wrench beside it, he reached under the beast and popped open the access port. Nearly climbing into the thing, he began searching for the extruder, two small lights popping on by his shoulders.

“That’s quite unhealthy Jacob”

Evelyn commented disapprovingly, as Jacob moved aside some wiring and tubes with his wrench. His lights shine on one of the few metal things in this machine- the extruder.

“Maybe, but it’s a time honored tradition of any engineer. Don’t mess with something that ain't broke Evelyn. Some think if an engineer isn’t caffeinated, nothing gets fixed properly.”

He grunted as he placed the wrench around the bolt holding the extruder to the nutrient pipe, slowly turning it. His muscles strained as he fought against a factory tightened bolt

“That’s a myth.”

Suddenly, he felt no resistance at all, and the bolt came free. And smashed his hand into the wall of the printer, hissing in pain as he shook his hand.

“You’d think but every engineer I've ever met agrees, so your opinion is null and void.”

After making sure he hadn’t hurt his hand and giving the machine gods their blood offering (he hadn’t even broken the suit’s surface) he reached into the nearly fist-sized pipe. Feeling around for what he was sure, no, knew was the problem. With a pop, he pulled out a solid pink mass of- something. Some clear liquid following from behind and splattering onto the bottom of the machine.

“AHA! Got you, you little fuck.”

Tossing the pink ball of.. Probably what was supposed to be ham, he placed the extruder back into place and began tightening it back up,

“I disagree.”

Jacob rolled his eyes as he finished tightening the bolt, giving it a good firm tug to make sure it didn’t come loose. When it indeed didn’t, he swung himself out of the printer and slapped the access port back into place.

“Well, disagree all you like. I know the truth.”

Triumphantly, he typed in an order to the printer for a cup of pudding. It began to spur to life, lights turning on as his shoulder lights turned off. The nozzle slowly moved forward, into position over the build plate. A cup popped up from below as the tube began to shake. Before he could react or turn it off, pudding sprayed out from just above the bolt in all directions, coating everything in a brown sludge. For a second, Jacob just stood there, before he slowly wiped the pudding from his eyes and turned to one of the cameras.

“I should have had coffee first.”

He grumbled, Evelyn’s soft laugh bubbling out of every speaker around him as he headed back to the showers.

After his second shower of the day, he washed his environmental suit in one of the showers. While they were pretty amazing, they didn’t self wash yet. But it was odd, he still hadn’t met anyone.

“Hey, Evelyn? Shouldn’t there be other people awake by now?”

He looked down at his freshly cleaned datapad- he had spent at least an hour washing off his things, and however long he had taken to get his things and (try) to fix the food printer.

“You are- correct. Strangely, I don't detect any other life signs on the ship. Not that that means much, since they’re all basically bodies-”

Slipping his helmet back into its place, he began to speed-walk his way back into the cryo chamber. Stopping at the doorway, watching as the arms- arm, one of them was shot, wires hanging from its joint- why hadn’t that been on his to-do list?- as the other working hand picked up another cryopod and placed it into a slot. The entire dance started again, the arms lowering down into the tube and trying to inject and flush- but there was nobody inside. Which should have been impossible, every single cryopod should have someone. Looking around, he saw that dozens of slots had the telltale glass ring showing they had been drained… but not a soul. Running now, Jacob began to look at each pod. No shadow, no arm, not even a face pressed against the glass. Not one other pod had a body in it.

“Evelyn! Where is everyone?”

He yelled, sprinting now as he checked dozens more. He ran through the halls, through various rooms. Planning, navigation, even hydroponics and the engine room.

“I- don’t know. Internal diagnostics show that everyone is accounted for… Wait. an unknown time ago, the Ulixes was struck by a stray asteroid and all systems went offline for 400,000,00 seconds. Data was lost. Location- Unknown. Crew- Unaccounted for-”

She began to list off everything that she found, and Jacob felt overwhelmed. Not only was the crew he had trained, lived with, and prepared to share a new home with missing… but they didn’t even know where they were. They had missed Kepler-20f, by a long shot. He was alone, with an AI, in space, without knowledge of anywhere he could go. He sat down, resting his chin on his fist as he thought. He didn’t know if he could go back into Cryo, and even if he could, should he? He didn’t know what happened to the crew, and for all he knew, they had dissolved into the cryo liquid after being in it for…

“Evelyn, how long were we- was I asleep?”

He asked quietly. Evelyn stopped listing off things and paused, calculating the time, converting into minutes, hours, years- the tension could have been cut with a knife.

“7,321 years.”

He looked at the ceiling and let out a long breath, holding his knees as he thought it over. Seven thousand years. An absurd amount of time, so much time lost to the sleep of cryo stasis. So many opportunities to have stopped their course, check to make sure it was plotted correctly. It was the one system Evelyn hadn’t been hooked up to, running autonomously all on its own. With four backup servers to make sure it didn’t even come close to having a lapse in function.

“Okay. Okay. So, what we know. We’re lost. The crew has either turned to mush in the pods or were kidnapped or- something. Really hoping it’s not aliens. Or xenomorphs. Oh please don’t be xenomorphs-”

He laughed nervously, running his fingers through his hair as he continued to look up at the ceiling.

“Well there’s no movement on the ship besides my drones… so I don't think that would be it.”

Evelyn said helpfully, Jacob taking several deep breaths to calm himself. She was right. That was a movie monster. It wasn’t real, and it never would be.

“You’re right. You’re right, I'm being stupid. First thing we learned was to remain calm. Okay. Evelyn, I'll figure out what happened to the crew. While I'm doing that, can you scan the surrounding stars around us and try and get where we are in the milky way? We didn’t leave it, that would have taken millions of years.”

With a pop, Evelyn went silent. Taking a moment, he listened to the almost imperceptible hum of the engine, taking comfort in its regularity.

"Okay, if anything is gonna have information on what happened to- everyone, I need to get to the server banks. Those should be…”

He pulled out his datapad, hands shaking slightly as he tapped the screen and began looking at the layout of the almost spear shaped ship.

“...one room below the bridge. Directly below it. Makes sense, that’s where the most data is gonna be so might as well put it close.”

Getting back onto his feet, he closed his eyes for a moment before heading into the hallway and looking at the wall- slowly panning over the different colored bands before stopping on the black line, and following it. Behind him, a security drone detached from the wall and began to follow behind him, silently. Finding the door easily, he placed his palm on the scanner- and was denied access.

“What?”

He tried again, and again was denied access. Cursing quietly, he pulled out his diagnostic tool and hooked it up to the scanner.

“No clearance? I should have clearance to the entire ship, this doesn’t make sense.”

He clicked his diagnostic tool off again and slotted it back in its place at his hip, grabbing his multitool. Its sleek design helped make the various tools look less garish. Pulling out a single wire, he clicked the pin into place, and began trying to override the system. He cursed again when his wire fried, smoking slightly as he pulled the pin out and frowned.

“Ev-”

Evelyn’s voice popped up from his datapad, nearly scaring him half to death- again.

“Yes Jacob? What’s the Matter?”

He put a hand on his chest and let out a long breath before answering.

“I don’t have access to the server room.

”There was a pause before she spoke again.

“But that’s not possible, you have the highest clearance right behind the captain-”

Jacob held up his hand, her voice slowly fading.

“I know. Which is why it’s weird. Can you get it open for me?”

There was another pause, before with a clunk and a hiss, the airlock slid away to reveal the server room. With a smile, he looked up to the camera and gave it a wink, trodding into the room- the security drone following close behind as the door sealed closed behind him. Walking between the towers that reached all the way to the ceiling, Jacob looked down at his datapad and began searching for a port he could slot his pad into. Quickly finding one, he pressed his pad into the coin-like slot and waited as the little green light blinked on and off. It seemed to take an eternity, but eventually the light turned from green to blue, signaling he had access to the servers.

“And here we go, let’s see what’s in store for me.”

Pulling his datapad from the slot, he flipped it in his hands- almost apprehensive, before he began opening files. There wasn’t a lot interesting, thousands of diagnostic reports, reports from the navigation system saying everything was working properly- though he paused at a file that seemed to be buried beneath a bunch of these reports.

“Avalon?”

He asked curiously, pressing on the file- immediately, his pad began to glitch and fritz out, smoke beginning to billow out of the sleek tome. Dropping the quickly heating technology, he backed away- the pad completely frying in a matter of seconds.

Hello everyone! i know it's been a while, but i have returned! Not with a story, or interactive post, but to ask if you would be interested in joining a small community in need of members.

You may be asking yourself "What is this community?" Or "What does it stand for?" And maybe even "Why should i join?"

Well, fear not, for i will answer these hypothetical questions! Firstly..

What is this Community?

Well, to put it simply, we are a group that would like to achieve a people-centric space traveling reality. Now i know that's ambitious, and possibly even impossible. But we will never know until we try! and, we have several other steps before we get there. Step 1) Create a safe community, ideally with 500-1000+ members Step 2) Acquire land to build or renovate homes and shelters for our members, creating a 'headquarters '/commune

Step 3) Become self sufficient with our own economy, governing system, and industry Step 4) begin research into technologies that may allow us space travel Those are just some of the steps, though they are a work in progress. We are a pretty young community, but already have several skilled people working together. Mostly engineers, but i myself am in the space industry , as well as having several members of differing skillsets. What do we stand for?

We stand for the equal treatment of every member of our community. Stopping corruption where we can, and getting humanity into space without secondary ideals. Mostly, we're trying to avoid mega corporations controlling even more than they already do. Tell me, what happens when Elon, or Jeff Bezos make it to space? You might hear things like this- "Please replenish your subscription to Amazon/Tesla Air, you have 60 second remaining" Or charging you out the wazoo for food and supplies absolutely necessary to your survival. If not that, extreme price gouging. And, if space isn't your thing, we want to create a society of people that wouldn't need to worry about where their next meal comes from, or if they will have to live on the street, freezing to death.

Our members believe that food, water, and shelter are human rights, that shouldn't be sold to you so you can survive. Does that mean we want you to have five star meals for free? no, of course not. We simply think that a basic amount of food to keep starvation at bay is what everyone deserves. A basic home, where you will not freeze to death or die of heat exhaustion. Not needing to stay at your parent's until you can find rent you can afford. Again, ambitious? Certainly. Perhaps doomed to fail? Maybe, but we have to try. I'm not the only one sick of the rat race, scurrying around making some billionaire richer while we sit here in threadbare clothes, wondering if we will manage to pay rent this month. Why should I join? Well, here's the toughest part. The why. Well, honestly? If you want a future- even one that may be a pipe dream- that doesn't involve being crushed under the boot of the oligarchy... i suggest joining. I'm not saying we're the only group out there, oh no haha. But, we would very much like to make this into a reality. And even if we don't make it to space, and just manage to create something here on earth worth our blood sweat and tears? I'd consider that worth it. Something that would keep our future safe, our children and grandchildren, from needing to suffer under the boots of tyrants or corrupt governments. Not needing to worry about starvation anymore, if we can help it. And, if we do manage to get to space, we might be able to make humanity into a space faring civilization. Though that wouldn't be for a very long time. So please, join us! Anyone and everyone is welcome. Engineer? Hop right in. Agriculturist? We welcome you with open arms. Simply someone who want to join and help any way you can? We'll take you too. No one is unwelcome- Except a select few- (Racists, homophobes', Nazi's, etc.) So, if any of this even interested you, come on in and see for yourself if you are interested. I will warn you, we are a very young group, so many of our projects are a work in progress. and all input is welcome! Red or Blue, it doesn't matter who. We just want a crew!