System restart successful. Timeline error correction… in progress. Welcome, [UNKNOWN USER]. User input is required to progress in the story. File retrieval is running slow. Please be patient. Your requested data will be found as soon as possible.
Welcome. I am assuming that you have gone through the proper channels to get here and access the records already, but I am legally required to inform you that you are currently trying to access classified logs. If you have not gone through the proper channels, or if you do not have the clearance to view these, please exit the area.
Maybe if you are lucky they will not catch you.
…
We will now proceed assuming that you are here legally and have high enough clearance to view these records.
Please wait.
…
You have asked to see the records of the voyage of the Starship Refuge.
These records are currently incomplete. User input is required to complete the records and finish the story.
...
WARNING: YOUR DECISIONS INFLUENCE THE STORY. THINK CAREFULLY BEFORE YOU INTERACT WITH EXISTING RECORDS, LEST YOU END UP WITH AN ENDING YOU DO NOT WANT.
Current Unlocked Interactions:
Computer: Help: - begin your command input with this when you have a question that you need the computer to answer
Input Command: - the basic command input preface
Open File: [File Name] - begin your command input with this to access a specific file in the database.
Computer: Eject - input this special command in order to automatically deimmerse and close any and all files currently open. Please only use this if absolutely necessary, as using the emergency eject can cause damage to the files, and may necessitate a complete system reboot, which may erase any changes and corrections you have made.
Profile: [Name] - input this command in order to open the file associated with that person. Please note: some files or portions of files may not be available due to clearance levels, or being at an improper place in the timeline.
Locate: [File Identifier] - input this command in order to open a file mentioned within a file that has not been accessed yet. [File Identifier] can be many things, from a book or letter to an email or image.
There was so many new things to do, so many new people to meet and new places to see- but when he thought about it for a moment, now wasn’t the time. He had twelve hours until his shift, at least eight of which needed to be spent sleeping, so he wasn’t exhausted, which only left three-ish hours for relaxation.
And those three hours could logically be cut in half when you take into account that he would have to get ready for work, grab something to eat before his shift, etc, etc…
So he had an hour and a half to spare, which isn’t much time at all, especially considering that the trip would be taking six years in Refuge time. Cub had done the math to figure out how much would pass on Earth, but he hadn’t been paying attention, as X had been lecturing them about gravitational anomalies or something and he was quite busy drawing tiny mice along the edges of the notebook he had been issued while Cub was doing his calculations.
But exact time aside, an hour and a half was barely a drop in the ocean of time that they would be spending on the ship.
He might as well get started unpacking.
He headed to the elevator bay, only pausing to chat with the other people on the bridge for a moment before he continued onward, taking the elevator down to the residential floor.
This area of the ship had been specifically designed to feel less businesslike, more comfortable, but… it wasn’t the best design job he had ever seen. Sure, the floor wasn’t just metal grating over the bones of the ship or literally sheets of steel, and the walls were painted or papered white rather than being exactly the same as the floor, but despite all of the effort that went into it, the hall was still very uninspiring.
If he was brutally honest, it was boring. Lifeless. He said that there had been effort put into it, but that had been an overstatement. Someone told the builders that ‘hostile’ environments made people less efficient, so they slapped together a more ‘homey’ hallway in a few minutes, and called it a day.
Was it disappointing to see? Yes. Was he very surprised? No. No, not particularly.
They were a government mission, after all.
He made his way down the hallway, glancing at each door as he passed, briefly noting the name engraved in the plate below the peephole on each one. He didn’t spend too much time trying to commit who lived where to memory- he had no doubt he would know everyone’s room locations by heart in a very short amount of time- but it wouldn’t hurt to have a loose grasp of where people were if they got into a sticky situation.
His room was on the right side of the hallway (if you were coming from the elevators), and he was pleasantly surprised to find that he was close to both Cub and TFC. Cub and the other engineers were grouped together across the hall, and TFC was right next door, followed by two names that he didn’t recognize.
The Martians.
He couldn’t help but look down the hallway at the two doors. Of all of the crewmates, he could fairly confidently say that he knew the least about those two. He had been given a packet on the things he needed to know about the super-soldiers they were transporting in the cryolab, and they had had a meet and greet for all of the Terran crewmembers right when everyone first gathered together, but he had heard almost nothing about the people who would be joining them when they passed the red planet.
He knew they were pilots, of course- their room placement in the hallway and the fact that they were prepping two hangars to receive their ships made that quite obvious, but other than that, they were a complete enigma.
He couldn’t wait to meet them.
But that all would happen in due time. He turned his attention back to his door, pressing his thumb against the scanner, and the door slid open with a hiss.
His room was exactly the same as all of the other crewmembers’ rooms- a twenty foot by twenty foot square split into a tiny bathroom and a main living area with enough room for a bed, a desk, a closet, and a couple other pieces of furniture if one so desired. Scar had decided to bring in a low couch, which he placed in front of the screen built into one of the walls, and a cat tree for Jellie.
Speaking of- Jellie was in her crate, which was sitting on his bed alongside all the rest of his luggage and decor, waiting to be unpacked. As he moved over to her and unlatched the door, she informed him just how much she appreciated being trapped in That Awful Contraption by forcing herself out before the door was fully open and disappearing underneath his bed.
After a few minutes of trying to coax her out with one of the first toys he could find in the mess of boxes and bags, she remained stubbornly in place, so he sighed, and started to unpack without her.
He hummed tunelessly to himself as he wandered around his room. Clothes went in the closet, tech went on his desk, Jellie’s things all went in the same corner, except for the litter box, which went next to the trash for ease of cleaning. He put sheets on his bed, pillows on the couch, a rug on the faux-wooden floor, and his diploma up against the wall on his desk, in a spot where he was sure to see if Jellie tried to knock it over.
God, it really was just like college all over again. That feeling of strange hollowness, knowing that the place you called ‘home’ for so long isn’t home anymore…
He sighed, sitting down on the bed and rubbing his eyes. He didn’t need to be thinking about that, not right now, not when they’d barely even gotten off planet. He let himself fall backwards onto his bed, his eyes still closed, but he was given a rather rude awakening when something landed directly on his stomach.
He opened his eyes to see Jellie turning in a circle and curling up, very pointedly not looking at him, but apparently forgiving enough to honor him by making it more difficult for him to breathe. He smiled softly, petting her a few times before letting his hand fall onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling for a moment.
This was home now. For the next six years.
He hoped he would get used to it sooner rather than later as he took a slow, deep breath, and closed his eyes…
Computer: …
Computer: It appears that the current character has gone inactive. Please choose another character to continue.
Computer: Choose another character by inputting a Command such as [Input Command: Be [Character]]
What little breeze there had been when they were preparing had long since died down by the time they were actually on the tarmac. There was no respite from the heat, and the sun was beating down like it was trying to nail them to the planet’s surface with just its rays. The noise of the still steadily growing crowd was hushed, anticipatory, and the engines’ growling, as overwhelming as they still were, were the quietest Scar had ever heard them.
It was like the universe was holding its breath, waiting for them to make their move.
Two respirators hissed as Cub and Scar stood at the bottom of the ramp onto the Refuge, gazing up at the shop herself. She took his breath away. Huge, towering over any ship he had ever flown before, fitted with the best of everything, made with the best of everything- she wasn’t the most aerodynamic, of course, seeing as she was technically a scientific vessel, but that didn’t make her any less beautiful-
Cub cleared his throat quietly, and Scar paused in his reverie to look over at his friend, who’s questioning expression was obvious even through the tinted plastic that covered his face.
“What’s up?”
“Are you planning on going in, or just standing in front of the door until we rust over?” Cub asked.
Scar chuckled, starting the climb up the ramp, trying to stop his hands from trembling. “Sorry, sorry. Got lost in thought, I guess.”
Cub smiled. “Hey, if it wouldn’t have been you it would have been me. There’s… a lot to think about.”
“This is the big one, after all.” Scar murmured as they entered. Cub reached out to the side to press a button on a keypad, and the ramp slowly retracted, the door sliding closed as they started into the belly of the ship.
They walked down the sparsely decorated halls together, passing by other crew members making final preparations, or hurrying along their way to wherever they needed to be with very little chatter. What was there to say?
Nothing. Nothing at all.
They reached the elevator hub in a few minutes, and Cub pressed the call button to go down before taking off his respirator. Scar followed suit, hitting the button for the elevator next to Cub’s. He took a deep breath once the mask was off, and found no difference in the air quality within the ship. It even had that same slight smell of ozone that proved that the filters were working in the masks. Small world.
“Hey.” Cub said, turning to look at him.
“Hey?” He replied.
“I’ll see you when we’re in the air.”
“I think you mean out of the air. No air in space.” Scar joked.
Cub smiled softly. “Of course. What was I thinking?”
“Probably preoccupied with more important things.” Scar said, holding out the hand not holding his cane and respirator for his Cub to shake. Cub took it, and pulled him into a hug.
A bit startled, Scar chuckled, and hugged back. “Weren’t you the one that said we should be more professional?”
“Are you saying showing my friend affection isn’t professional?” Cub said, stepping back. The elevator dinged, and the door slid open. “Don’t get us all killed before we even get out of the solar system,alright?”
“Damn, there goes my plan to steer the starship directly into Pluto.”
Cub laughed, and walked into the elevator. “See you in a bit.”
“See you.” Scar said, half waving as the door slid closed, obscuring Cub from view. There was another ding, and his elevator slid open. He tried not to think of the unspoken ‘good luck’ he had seen so clearly in his friend’s expression as he stepped inside. He didn’t need luck. They didn’t need luck.
Everything was going to be fine.
A voice crackled over the loudspeaker, one of the communications officers. What was his name? Something with a Z. “Good morning, everyone. This is your ten minute warning. Please finish up whatever you’re doing and prepare for takeoff.”
Scar pressed the button for the upper level, and headed for the bridge.
Scar didn’t have to check which direction the bridge was from the elevator bay- he just followed the sounds of a dozen people being incredibly stressed out. His entrance into the bridge was greeted by a chorus of ‘hello’s, and several ‘about time’s and ‘thank god’s, which he didn’t respond to with anything more than a laugh as he headed straight for the cockpit.
“Nice if you to join us.” TFC said dryly as he slid into his seat, quickly buckling himself in and activating his controls.
“Can you blame me for wanting to get one last look at the sky before we go?” Scar asked him
TFC just looked at him for a moment before shaking his head and turning his attention to the runway ahead of them. “No, I suppose I can’t.”
Xisuma strode into the room and stopped behind them, one foot tapping on the floor anxiously. “Are you ready?”
“Yessir.”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Good.” X said, glancing behind him into the bridge. “Control should be contacting us any minute now. All personnel and cargo is secured.”
“We’re ready to go.”
The main screen beeped once, and there was a muffled curse and smothered laughter from the bridge.
“Transmission from Zero!” One of the communications officers called. Zloy! That was his name! No, that was the other one. Damnit. “Put on your game faces.”
The screen beeped again, and then the control room was on screen, technicians bustling around in front of a half ring of world leaders, waiting to watch the launch.
“It’s almost perfect.” The person speaking said. He had never figured out what their name was. At this point, it probably didn’t matter. “How’re things looking?”
“Everything is running smoothly. Everyone and everything is on board, everything that isn’t bolted down is secured. We’re ready for takeoff.” Xisuma said. “As soon as the runway’s cleared.”
There was a moment of quiet, and then the answer came: “Alpha runway is clear.”
Xisuma inhaled, and patted the backs of the seats. “Alright, boys.”
As he made his way back to the rest of the bridge and the captain’s seat, TFC nodded, flipping down the microphone on his headset. “Alright. Scar?”
Scar nodded, flipping down his microphone and grabbing one of his joysticks, pressing a few buttons along the way. “Zero, this is Refuge, beginning to taxi.”
The engines hummed to life, and the murmuring from the bridge and from the people on the other side of the screen died away as the ship began to slowly move forward.
She moved forward slowly, slowly, then faster, engines rumbling as the ship was straightened out, nose pointing towards the end of the runway.
Scar curled and uncurled his fingers around his joysticks. TFC reached overhead, flipped open a case, and pressed a button. “Commencing takeoff.”
“Godspeed, Refuge.” One of the leaders said quietly, barely picked up by the microphones.
TFC pressed the yoke forward, and the engines rumbled, wheels beginning to eat up more and more ground with every passing second.
The end of the runway grew closer and closer.
The engine’s roar grew louder, drowning out the whir of machinery. A light came on next to the screen, and TFC pulled back one of his joysticks.
Refuge’s nose tipped upwards-
And her wheels lifted off of the ground.
She soared upward, applause coming through the speakers from control. Scar flipped through camera feeds on one of the minor screens, smiling at the crowd below. Even as the people grew too small to pick out individually, their joy was still more than apparent.
“Bon voyage, Refuge.” The person said. “Good luck.”
The feed vanished from the main screen, probably now regulated to the COs’ booth. TFC flipped his mic up, and leaned forward, flipping several switches, and changing the screen so that it showed a readout. “Alright. Next stop, Mars, for a personnel pickup, then Jupiter, then once we’re out of the solar system…”
“Once we’re out of the inner solar system, it should be smooth sailing.”
“Should be. Speaking of, will you make sure everything’s sealed up and switch to extatmo?”
“Got it.” Scar said, pulling a couple of minor screens towards himself as TFC tilted Refuge towards the sky.
“Perfect.” TFC said, and Refuge soared ever higher.
The sky became darker and darker- first from layers of clouds, and then, as they pushed through them, from lack of anything for the light to reflect off of to make colors.
Stars began to appear, as tiny pinpricks of light in the endless blanket of the sky.
Scar sighed, flipping a switch and entering a PIN to activate exatmo mode.
TFC glances over at him. “... They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
Scar nodded. “They really are. This is… the third time I’ve ever seen them in real life.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’ve never seen anything like them before.”
“I don’t think there’s anything like them anywhere.” TFC said, glancing to the side. “Oh, look.”
Scar looked where he indicated, and saw-
The moon, crossing over the side of the planet, slowly getting smaller in the rear facing cameras.
“Moonset.” TFC said. “A sunrise would be something to see, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to catch one before we’ve got Mars in the way.”
“A Martian sunrise would be something to see too.”
TFC chuckled. “That’s true. Haven’t seen one of those before.”
“Maybe we’ll see one when we’re picking up those guys.”
“I doubt it. We’re not landing. I don’t even know that we’ll be in orbit for more than a few minutes.”
Scar frowned. “So they’re meeting us as we pass?”
“As far as I’ve been told.”
“That’s a shame.” Scar said, and TFC nodded.
“Well, we’ve got ten days to Mars. I’ll just-“ he pressed a button on the side of his headset. “Hello, Refuge. This is your pilot speaking. We are officially out of Earth’s atmosphere. Artificial gravity is on across the ship. Feel free to move around and get yourselves settled in. Talk to X if you have any problems with anything, and… welcome home, I suppose.”
He released the button, and shook his head. “Anyway.”
He turned to Scar. “Twelve hour shifts, right? I’ll take the first one.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Go… do whatever it is you kids do for fun. Go fortnite. I’ll see you in twelve hours.”
Scar laughed, standing up, and saluting goofily. “Yessir! See you in twelve hours.”
He made his way through the bridge, nodding to the people he knew, mostly avoiding conversation.
It was a hot, dry morning. Very little cloud cover. You could almost see the sky through the smog that drifted lazily on the breeze. If the wind were a little stronger, Cub might have joined the crew on the ground… but it was nearing a hundred degrees outside, and even with the mission’s massive budget, they didn’t have the time or the money to fit him with a TC suit. Even the urge to be the one to personally double check that everything was alright didn’t manage to outweigh the desire to not appear on world-wide television sweaty and out of breath.
He didn’t know how athletes did it.
The heat was made worse, of course, by the amount of people that had already started to line the sides of the runway. Politicians, celebrities, newscasters and reporters, influencers… and any determined citizen who was close enough and wily enough to get in. There was at least an hour until liftoff, but a crowd had already started to gather. Looking down from the control tower, he didn’t envy them.
At least, he didn’t envy their choice of location. Their choice of activity, however…
He took a deep breath as he focused his attention back on the interior of the control tower. The background noise that he had tried to hard to ignore continued to filter in: Xisuma had asked Mumbo to explain something about the generators, which Mumbo was doing his best to do in layman's terms, apparently either forgetting or not knowing that Xisuma didn’t need it in layman’s terms (the man nearly had a degree in electrical engineering before he was drafted, for god’s sake); both Communications Officers had, for some reason, been put on guard duty and were trying to drive off a group of well meaning ground techs that refused to leave; on board the ship, TFC had asked Impulse what Cub thought was an innocent question but Impulse got incredibly defensive incredibly quickly, their conversation crackling with radio static as it filtered over the speakers; and of course Scar was nowhere to be found, which, if he was honest, made him more stressed than anything else that was happening, even the imminent launch.
That man attracted trouble like a corpse attracts crows.
But speak of the devil and he shall appear- a hand landed on his shoulder, ripping him away from his thoughts and nearly making him jump out of his skin. He turned to find Scar smiling down at him, his eyes bright and excited and his shoulders loose, showing none of the tension that permeated the rest of the airfield.
“You look like you’re having fun.” Cub said dryly, turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. One by one, the checks began to finish, the code on his screen scrolling by, stopping at it’s designated name and turning green to show that everything was ready to go. So far, so good.
“You say that like you aren’t.” Scar replied. “Come on, man, this is it! This is the big one!” He squeezed Cub’s shoulder, trying to coax a smile from him. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.”
Cub sighed softly, not looking over at his friend. “I know… it doesn’t really feel like it.”
Scar let go of him, walking over to the window and looking down at the Refuge for a moment before looking back at him, his smile not fading for an instant. “Guess when we get back we’ll just have to find a bigger fish.”
“You think there’ll be a bigger fish than trying to save the human race?” Cub asked, unable to stop a small smile from showing itself.
“There’s always a bigger fish if you know where to look.” Scar re[lied, and Cub exhaled, amused, before turning his attention back to the screen.
The last few checks scrolled past before turning green, and the screen quickly wiped itself, flashing a few times before a new message scrolled across the screen:
All systems nominal.
He pressed a button, the chatter from onboard the ship cutting out as he spoke. “How are things looking, folks?”
From the cockpit, TFC abandoned his conversation with Impulse in favor of not speaking at all, looking up at the camera and giving Cub a thumbs up, leaning back slightly in his chair.
The camera feed rapidly switched to that of the primary bridge camera. Joe Hills leaned over the back of Xisuma’s chair to press the ‘talk’ button, a couple of people pausing behind him to bend down and wave at the people on screen before continuing on with their work. “Everything looks good here, Cub!”
“Impulse?” Cub asked, switching the cameras manually before his coworker could respond.
“Believe you me,” Impulse called over the roar of the engines. “If anything was wrong down here, you would know!”
“Have you-”
“I’ve triple checked everything but the temperature regulation systems, which I’ve checked four times. Don’t worry, Cub, everything’s working.” Impulse said, giving a thumbs up to a spot that was several feet to the right of where the camera actually was.
“Thank you.” Cub said, switching the cameras again, this time focusing on the cryo bay. For a moment, the only thing that he saw was frost, before a large hand wiped away the snow and Iskall beamed into the camera.
“Can you see us?” Stress asked, unseen until Iskall made his way down the ladder, revealing the rest of the room. The glow from the cryotubes lit the room with an unearthly blue light. With the amount of glass and metal present, the reflections made it a relatively bright place to work, but it also gave the impression of being in an alien aquarium of some sort.
Iskall and Stress didn’t seem to mind it too much- in fact, they looked quite comfortable, despite being dressed more warmly than anyone had had to dress outdoors for years. Stress was wearing a puffy coat and hat, and Iskall had on a thick scarf and a pair of woolen gloves.
“We can see you. How are things looking?” Cub asked.
“Well, all our friends are doing quite well- vital signs are normal, energy drain is well within the acceptable range, but it is a bit chilly down here!” Stress said cheerfully, her breath clouding the air as she spoke. “I think someone might have misinterpreted our request.”
“We said ‘keep the bay a little cooler’ and they heard ‘make it like a food cooler’.” Iskall agreed, chuckling slightly at his own joke before moving away to do something else.
“So yeah, if someone could deal with that, that would be lovely.” Stress said. “But other than that, we’re great!”
“Okay. I’ll get someone on that.” Cub said, and he stepped back from the table, turning around to see that the rest of the room was looking at him.
“Well,” Xisuma said. “What do you think? Are we clear for takeoff?”
[An image of a crumpled piece of notebook paper. Lines of writing in a cramped, neat handwriting cover the page. It appears to have been torn to pieces, but reassembled for the recording purposes. There is a deep indent in the middle of the page where it was wrapped around something vaguely rectangular. It reads:]
Xen,
By the time you read this, I’ll be off planet. I don’t know how long it will take you to forgive me enough to find this wherever you stashed it, but I hope it’s not too late for me to try to make up for things.
I’m sorry I’m leaving you. I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye in person.
I knew that if I saw how angry you are at me, I wouldn’t be able to go through with it… and not going through with it isn’t an option.
The REFUGE mission has to succeed, and I need to be on it for that to happen.
Maybe that’s narcissistic of me to say, but everyone around me seems to believe it- and I believe it too. This crew is made of the most experienced, most educated, most skilled and talented people I’ve ever met. The best of the best. We are all needed to make sure that nothing goes wrong.
I can’t stay.
I’m sorry.
I’ve included something in this letter that I hope will help make you slightly less angry with me. It’s a flash drive that I took from the lab. Theoretically, anything that you put onto it will be instantly accessible via its other half. Its not a copy, it’s that same file- both drives access the same data storage.
You have this one, and I have the other. If you ever need me, you can contact me by putting a file onto the drive, and I’ll be able to get it and respond, hopefully even when we’re FTL.
Admittedly, I don’t know if it will work. It’s not exactly finished, and I wasn’t exactly supposed to be taking it from the lab, but it’s the only thing I could think of that would help make it feel less like I was abandoning you. I thought it might make you feel better to know that you can reach me if you need me.
I’m going to be alright, Xen. You will be too, and so will everything else. Everything’s going to be fine.
I’ll see you once we’re planetside and we have communications reestablished.
Your brother,
Xisuma Void
[On the bottom of the page, several words have been scratched into the paper by a different, shakier hand.]
It was raining when he visited the hospital, tiny drops drumming on the dirt and streaking down the windows. He knew the route to his brother’s room by heart, knew the nurses that would greet him as he made his way through the halls, knew the music that would be playing in the elevator as he rode to the ninth floor.
It was all routine. Nothing frightening about it.
Nothing at all.
So why couldn’t he go inside?
He lingered on the doorstep of the hospital, the rain drumming on the roof, ricocheting off the concrete to get the cuffs of his pants legs wet. He was so close, yet so far away.
It was stupid. He was being stupid. Xenelis was his twin brother. What did he have to be afraid of?
The look on his face when he entered the room. The way his expression would go flat as he closed himself off, as the person that Xisuma had always been the closest to for the entirety of their lives made it quite clear that he wanted nothing to do with him.
He couldn’t do it.
But he couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.
He pushed open the doors, heading over to the desk. The receptionist greeted him cheerfully, and happily provided him with a pad of paper and pen when he asked. After spending several minutes writing, he folded up the pages carefully, making sure the small white flash drive was safely contained in the makeshift envelope, before handing the packet to the receptionist.
“Please give this to Xenelis Void tomorrow.” He said, determined to keep his voice steady.
“Are you sure, honey? I think he should still be awake, you could give it to him yourself, right now, if you’d like.”
“I’m sure.” Xisuma said, stepping back. “He doesn’t want to see me right now.”
And before she could reply, he turned on his heel and left the building, striding into the rain as he smoothed down the imaginary wrinkles of his coat.
Maybe Xen was right. Maybe he was a coward at heart.
If you can call anyone a coward for not wanting to see their brother unhappy.
Computer: New command input unlocked! If files are mentioned within the file, but not linked, and the user would like to see them, input: [Locate:[File Identifier]] into the command interface. The [File Identifier] can be many things- from a specific file name to a file type, like a song, email, or letter. If the file can be located, it will be retrieved and presented to the user.
It took almost an hour and a half for the communications officers to herd the crowd of reporters, celebrities, government officials, and other miscellaneous bigwigs out of the room, leaving only the crew behind.
TFC recognized two of them, his copilot, and Xisuma, who seemed completely at ease and in control, his gradual descent into scruffiness curbed abruptly for the cameras that would doubtlessly be focused on him the instant he left.
The captain was doing some herding of his own, collecting crewmembers in a loose circle around him as he finished up the conversation he was having with the tall, dark haired man beside him, clasping his hands in front of him and smiling at the assembled group.
“Good morning, everyone.” He said, and a few people returned his greeting. “Thank you all so much for managing to make it here. I know we’re missing a few people still, but it’s better to have most rather than none, and unfortunately we can’t afford to wait for a date that everyone could attend. Rest assured, all essential personnel are present, or their job will be covered from the ground; there’s no risk to today’s test flight besides the usual risk of testing a ship that’s the first of its kind.”
His ‘joke’ earned him a few chuckles, but it did very little to alleviate the nervous energy in the room. It was like the air was buzzing with it. TFC’s geiger counter crackled quietly as he shifted from one foot to the other, reaching to adjust a dial without looking down.
“Well, then, I suppose we should get names connected to faces.” Xisuma continued, turning to the man that he had been talking to before. “Cub? Will you start?”
Cub, a tall man with dark hair, who was the only one in the room wearing business casual rather than a uniform of some sort, waved slightly. “Hey. I’m Cub. Head engineer, specializing in computer engineering, code. I’ll be on the ground today, monitoring everything, making sure neither X nor Mumbo have a nervous breakdown.”
X sighed softly, and the man next to Cub snorted. He was shorter, with brown hair cut very close to his head, and the beginnings of a beard starting to show on his face. As his chuckle made the group’s attention to him, he smiled. “Hey! I’m Impulse, mechanical engineer. I‘ve been across the pond with Cub and Mumbo and I can attest that most of his job is going to be keeping this one from having a breakdown of one type or another.” As he spoke, he motioned to the man to his right with his thumb.
Said man was the tallest person in the room, dark black hair slicked back with what must have been an ungodly amount of hair gel, and a large black mustache curling off of the lower half of his face.
“This is slander.” Mumbo said. “I can keep myself from having breakdowns quite well, thank you. Mumbo Jumbo. I’m an electrical engineer. I’ll be on the ground with Cub, and Impulse will be in the engine room to make sure everything goes smoothly.”
He turned to his right, and the young man next to him smiled. He was on the taller side of average, brown hair, with three nasty looking scars bisecting his face. He leaned casually on a slim metal cane as he spoke, his smile not fading for an instant as he addressed the group.
“Well, hello! I’m Scar, and I’ll be your copilot on this… adventure of ours. I’m sure you’ve heard all that talk about how recent my graduation was, but I assure you, I’m one of the best pilots you can find in the System. I won’t let you down.”
TFC would be the first to admit that he had had his doubts when he heard he was going to have a copilot who was fresh out of flight school. Anyone would have had doubts, especially considering the fact that they were going to attempt to fly the largest, arguably most complicated, spaceship ever built. Scar hadn’t had time to fly more than the most basic jets the Force had to offer, yet he was supposed to be taking the twelve hour shift that TFC couldn’t?
What felt like hundreds of runs in the simulator had assuaged most of his fears. The kid could keep his calm under pressure, could think on his feet, and knew his way around a cockpit. He and that engineer, Cub, were quite the duo, just judging by some of their conversations he had been privy to, which meant he knew at least a little bit of engineering tricks as well. Nine times out of ten, when he was the one that had to make a split second decision, he made the right one.
But for a mission that the fate of the human race rested on, nine times out of ten was not a very good average.
But hell, it wasn’t like TFC could do any better.
All in all, they could’ve done a much worse job in picking out a copilot, especially if they were planning on having TFC sync on the mission.
Scar turned to him, and TFC nodded. “Tin. You can call me TFC, if you want. I don’t care either way. I’m the pilot. Your lives are effectively in Scar and I’s hands the instant we get off the ground.” He grinned. “We’ll do our best.”
That got him a chuckle, and brought the invisible talking stick back around to Xisuma, who gestured in the direction of the door. “Those two that bit the bullet to give us a second to breathe were Zloy and Pix, the communications officers. Our navigator-slash-astronomer, Joe, was unable to make it, and our mechanic-slash-security-officer, False, was also waylaid. Our cryogeneticists were supposed to be here today as well, but as there have been some… threats, the decision was made to push back their arrival until closer to launch. It’s not the most helpful of things for us to do, but as you’ve all been told multiple times and will be told multiple times after this, it’s safest for everyone involved for this mission to be prepared remotely, then put together later.”
Xisuma took a breath, and smiled thinly. “So. That’s out of the way. What do you say we get this bird off the ground?”
The Refuge was a marvel of modern engineering, technology, art- the news had called it everything under the sun, but they all agreed: this was the best that anyone could do.
If it didn’t work, nothing would.
The ship loomed above the runway, taller than some of the base’s buildings and most definitely twice as long- a colony ship that would house less than fifty people, but enough supplies to feed, clothe, house, and protect generations. She wasn’t the most aerodynamic of things, but that was more than compensated for by the power generated from her twin massive engines and the massive retractable wings that could fold inwards to a quarter of their size for interstellar travel.
Something stirred in TFC’s chest as he looked up at the Refuge from inside the building’s doorway. Most of the rest of the crew busied themselves putting on masks and glasses, Scar slipping a medical grade respirator over the lower half of his face. Xisuma waved away the assistant that tried to offer him a mask, repeating the gesture when they tried to insist.
“Sir, there’s a pollutant advisory-”
“I don’t see you trying to press Tin into wearing one.”
“A couple more chunks of metal in my lungs can’t hurt me.” TFC said dryly. “Could hurt you.”
“I’m being flushed in two weeks. A few minutes without one on won’t kill me.”
The assistant looked helplessly at TFC who shook his head slightly, and they scampered away, refused mask in hand. Xisuma moved to the front of the group, directly in front of the doors, and rolled his shoulders back, standing at attention.
“Alright, guys. This is it. Ready?”
“Ready.” A chorus of voices replied, and X pushed the door open, leading them across the tarmac. As most of the group split off, heading for the control tower, TFC, Scar, and Impulse headed for the ship.
Impulse left them at the door, saluting and heading towards the engine room at the back as the pilots made their way to the bridge. As the doors slid open, TFC was struck by exactly how different it was from the models they had been training on.
The models hadn’t done nearly enough to convey the sheer size of it all. The bridge was massive, the cockpit a comparatively tiny part at the very front, a set of steel doors available to cut it off from the rest of the ship if need be. Buttons and screens flashed, levers and switches waited to be flipped, a dozen chairs sat unused, untouched. No expense had been spared, not on the long counters that held the consoles and controls, not on the grated metal flooring, not on the large gray chair that sat in the center of everything, directly behind the cockpit.
The news was right. It was a marvel.
TFC and Scar took their seats, Scar humming to himself tunelessly as they began to prime the engines, start all necessary routines, and prepare to take off. The Refuge purred under their fingertips as it turned on, lights flickering across the dashboard as twin screens, one on TFC’s left, and one on Scar’s right flashed on as well.
TFC reached up and flipped a switch, and his screen cut to the feed coming from the control tower. Scar did the same, only his screen showed the engine room, where a slightly fuzzy Impulse was pacing between the two massive engines, typing rapidly on a holopad, his eyes magnified by a pair of goggles and his ears covered by a set of headphones.
“Impulse?” Scar asked as TFC reached out to bring the yoke towards him. “What do you think?”
Impulse looked up, bringing a hand to his headphones, and when he pressed the button, he had to shout over the roar of the engines to be heard. “I’m not seeing any problems! You?”
“All systems normal here.” Scar said, turning to TFC, to in turn glanced at his screen.
“Zero, what do you think?” TFC said. “How’re we looking?”
“Absolutely gorgeous, Refuge. The pinnacle of modern technology, running at peak efficiency.” Xisuma grinned.
“Well, not quite peak efficiency.” Someone cut in, and Cub walked into view. “We’ve encountered a minor bug with some of the exterior cameras. Won’t be able to test the sync today.”
“I think there’s something off with some of the interior ones too, cause Impulse is looking very grainy.” TFC informed him.
“Great. We’ll get that fixed as soon as possible.” Cub said. “If you don’t have any other problems, I think you’re clear to go.”
“Got it. Zero, this is Refuge, requesting permission to take off using Alpha Runway.” Scar said.
“Refuge, Alpha Runway has been cleared. Feel free to begin taxiing.” Someone said, and TFC nodded.
“Thanks Zero. Beginning taxi.”
The engines hummed louder as he shifted into gear, and TFC swallowed down a spike of excitement as the ship began to move forward slowly. It had been a while since he had been at the helm- and he’d never piloted anything like this before. Never.
Even back when it was routine, he had always loved it- the feeling of taking off, of gravity releasing its hold, the sheer audacity of thousands of tons of metal defying the laws of physics and flying. Flying.
The ship began to pick up speed, and the miscellaneous chatter from the control room died away. Scar’s humming faded as he pulled one of the subscreens towards him, checking the levels of something- it didn’t particularly matter what to TFC at the moment, so he didn’t bother to try to find out.
The engines shifted, the humming turning to a low growl as the Refuge turned, straightening herself on the runway.
“Zero, we are about to commence our first takeoff.” TFC said, reaching overhead to flip open a case and press a button. “Impulse? Everything’s still fine?”
“Nothing’s blown up yet!” The engineer yelled back. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you know.”
“Well,” TFC said, turning his attention back to the runway, and his copilot. “This is it. Got any last words in case we turn into a shooting star?”
“Cub, if I die, tell Jellie I love her.” Scar said, wrapping his hands around his joysticks. “And don’t do anything stupid.”
“How could I do anything stupid when you’re taking all the stupid with you?” Cub asked, the smile evident in his voice. At least somebody wasn’t worried about an imminent explosion.
“What about you, Tin?” Xisuma asked. “Any last words?”
“Well, if something ends up going wrong, I’m sure you’ll hear them, and I’m sure you won’t be able to let the press quote them. Say, you aren’t going to give them the recordings of this conversation, are you? I know they’re filming along the runway.”
“No, they won’t get the conversation records.”
“Good. All set here. Scar?”
“We’re just sitting here wasting fuel at this point. Let’s get this bird in the air.” Scar said, shifting in his seat and twisting his head to crack his neck.
“Rodger.” TFC said, and he pressed the yoke forward. The engines caught, and then their tone changed, rising in tone and intensity as the ship began to move once again.
No one spoke as they moved forward, agonizingly slowly at first, then faster and faster. The end of the runway moved closer, closer, the engines’ roar grew louder- a light came on next to the screen, and TFC felt his breath catch in his throat, pulling back-
Refuge’s nose tipped upwards…
And her wheels lifted off the ground.
She soared upwards, engines singing, computers whirring, testing systems, running diagnostics and all coming up with the same answer: apart from the cameras, everything was working perfectly.
That information was relayed to the control room, and their reaction brought a smile to TFC’s face. Papers flew, and Xisuma swept Cub and Mumbo into what must’ve been a bone crushing hug- but they was too busy beaming to care. Cheers made any talk almost unintelligible.
Scar laughed, and TFC glanced over at him to find him grinning. “It worked! We did it!”
And they had done it. The bird had fledged. They were that much closer to the mission being started… and completed. Everything going well meant they had a greater chance of doing it. Of saving everyone.
Of starting over.
TFC grinned back. “We certainly did.”
Scar held out his fist, and TFC, after a moment of hesitation, bumped it.
The room was much too small for four people to stay in for fifteen minutes, much less two and a half hours. Barely enough room for a table and four chairs, the undecorated white walls and the windowless door teamed up with the low ceiling to make the sensation that the walls were closing in bad enough that Doc wanted to- to-
To claw his way out of this hellhole with his bare hands, run into the woods, and live out the remaining years he had left before he… live out the remaining years he had left as a wild man in the woods.
The chatter from his team wasn’t helping. Their voices bounced off the walls, reverberating and doubling back on them. He had paced the perimeter of the room two hundred and three times, and he was about to make it two hundred and four as he desperately tried to keep calm. He wasn’t built for small spaces. None of them were.
Well, Etho was, but Etho was an anomaly, and besides, as long as he had the ability to bother Bdubs in one way or another, he would be happy as a clam. To prove that point, the man himself was, as Doc completed his lap around the room, grinning devilishly and reaching across Bdubs, who was sputtering, and holding a small golden pocket watch as far away from him as possible.
“You keep your filthy paws off my property!” Bdubs cried, attempting to shove Etho away with his free hand.
Etho was using his height to his advantage, not even having to strain to keep his prize almost in reach. “Oh, come on, man, I just want to see it-“
“See it? You’ll break it! Take it apart! And it’ll never be the same! Ship of Theseus! Beef! Help!”
“Ship of Theseus is when you replace all the parts of something, not when you take something apart and put it back together.” Beef said, his eyes not leaving the wall. “So, us, not the watch.”
Etho snorted, and Doc sighed heavily, stopping in his tracks in front of the door.
“I’m sick of this.” He said tersely. “They’re not coming to get us. Let’s find our own way down.”
“That would be a wonderful idea, if that door wasn’t locked from the outside.” Bdubs said, lowering his guard as Etho leaned away from him, settling fully into his seat for the first time. “I don’t think they’ll appreciate you breaking down their door.”
“Well, I don’t appreciate them keeping us in here for hours without telling us what’s going on!” Doc said. “You can stay if you want, but I’m getting the hell out of here.”
“Just don’t try to pin the blame on me this time.” Beef said, standing up and moving around to the other side of the room. “Want me to help?”
“No, I’ve got it.” Doc said, and after pressing one hand to the metal, he drew back his other arm, and punched forward.
The door slammed into the wall on the other side of the hallway, a fist shaped dent directly next to the handle. Doc shook out his arm, steam hissing as the vents along its side glowed red, as he stepped into the hallway. Almost instantly it was easier to breath, his back straightening as he rolled his shoulders back.
The rest of the team joined him in the hallway, Beef dragging the door back along the scratches it had made in the floor to rest it gingerly against the doorframe.
“They’ll never notice anything’s different.” Etho said dryly.
“Of course not.” Beef replied. “After all, you did a great job getting us out of there discreetly.”
“Oh, so the story’s that I punched the door open?”
“What’re you talking about stories for? That’s what happened!” Bdubs chimed in, elbowing Etho in the ribs gently, and earning an eye roll.
“Bdubs, you want to take us down to the lab?” Doc asked, craning his neck to look down the hallway. As much as he would love to stay and chat, the longer they lingered, the more likely they would be caught at the scene of the crime- and that never ended well.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get us there.” Bdubs pulled out the watch again, checking it, then flipping it over to check the compass built into its underside. He frowned slightly at what he saw, spinning on his heel to face the other direction and cocking his head to the side.
It was always easy to see when Bdubs was mapping. He always did the same thing. Check the time, check where North is, recall, if they’d been there before, or he’d seen a map, or estimate, if they were on their own. Then, within a few seconds, once he’d determined the right route-
“Alrighty, folks.” Bdubs said, tucking the watch away into his pocket. “Follow me!”
Bdubs led the group down the hallway and into a skinny stairwell that seemed to go up or down into infinity, whichever way you wanted to look. Without hesitation, he started to head downstairs, so the rest of the group followed suit.
Several flights of stairs later, they reached the basement, and entered the lab through a set of double doors that lead onto a metal catwalk.
It was huge, the room stretching off into the distance, much larger than the building they had been in for sure. Computers lined most of the walls, and tables covered in scientific equipment and technology turned most of the floor into a maze. Beef whistled lowly at the sight of it, and even Etho made a noise of approval.
Near the middle of the room a space had been cleared, with several large blue tanks set up around it, and a terminal with lots of wires running out of it square in the center.
A man with frizzy hair looked up from the terminal as they approached, and frowned. “Where’s your escort?”
“We weren’t given one.” Beef said. “Had to find our way down on our own.”
“And we are so sorry about that.” A voice came from behind, and they turned to see Xisuma striding across the floor in a battered green combat suit, a helmet tucked under his arm. Several people trailed after him, including a harried looking assistant that appeared to be holding a breathing mask, and several people in the same uniforms that the team was wearing.
Most worrying of the people following him, was the group of armed guards surrounding a cyborg with pink and gold metallic augmentations. The man didn’t appear to be restrained at all, but there was a large bolt of some sort attached to his neck, close to his jaw, and he didn’t look very happy to be there.
Most interesting of the people following him was a man who made Doc stop dead in his tracks. He was tall, his skin a deep red that was mottled with lighter reds and pinks, two stubby horns barely poking out from his short black hair. His mouth was closed, but Doc was sure if he opened it, he’d see fangs, and if he would move his hands so they weren’t clasped in front of him, hidden, he was sure he would see that the pads of his fingers were black.
He was a Hybrid.
Like him.
He didn’t have time to process what this meant, or say anything, unfortunately, as the scientists swarmed around them, checking vitals, ushering them towards the tubes they would be sleeping away the long journey in- Xisuma stood in the center, next to the man who had spoken to them, overseeing it all.
As the scientists stepped away, the man on the computer cleared his throat.
“Right. Well. My name is Jaspers. I’m the one in charge of the cryounit operation, and this is hopefully the only time you’ll ever see me, since I’m remaining groundside. Let’s skip the pleasantries and get to business, shall we?”
“The first thing that’s going to happen is we’re going to put a tube down your trachea, into your lungs, and then we’re going to affix a breathing mask to that. Then we’re going to put you to sleep, and we’ll handle the rest from there. It’ll be a very quick, almost painless procedure for you.” Jaspers said.
“Ah, almost painless. That’s always fun.” Beef murmured.
Jaspers sighed, and moved over to Doc, opening the cryopod and having him step inside. Doc swallowed as the glass almost enclosed him.
“Hey, Doc in a jar! Five bucks a pop, get ‘em now at your local supermarket.” Bdubs called.
“Come on, five bucks? I’m worth at least ten.” He replied, smile fading as Jaspers approached with a flexible tube and a mask.
It didn’t hurt, necessarily, seeing as his trachea had been replaced with machinery along with his larynx and most of his outer throat, but sitting there, fully conscious with a tube down his throat, inside his lungs, and coming out of his mouth was a weird feeling.
“Very attractive.” Etho said dryly from the pod beside him. Doc wiggled his eyebrows and resisted the urge to speak, trying to swallow the fear that was rising inside of him. He was fine. This was fine. He shouldn’t be nervous.
God knows he’d been through worse.
“Alright. We’ll be putting you under now.” Jaspers said, appearing from nowhere with an air mask.
Doc’s eyes widened. Now? Right now? Before all the others? Without saying goodbye? Right now? What? No. No!
But the mask was being fitted over his face, and he couldn’t make any noise beside a sort of strangled groan.
“See you on the other side, Doc!” Bdubs said, the others chiming in with vaguely reassuring goodbyes- no, not goodbyes. Goodbyes were too permanent. Too final. They weren’t goodbyes, they were… see you laters?
He didn’t have time to think of what exactly they were, as the mask hissed, gas filling his lungs with no resistance, and his world went dark.
TFC stood by the window of the hotel room, an undecorated mug in one hand, and the other tucked into one of his pockets. He watched, half asleep, as the factories across the river stirred to life, smoke spilling from their smokestacks and adding another layer of grey to the sky.
When he had been younger, sunrises had used to be beautiful. Nowadays you were lucky if you managed to see a hint of color before the smog choked it out of the sky.
He finished his coffee and set the mug in the sink, grabbing his jacket from the back of the desk chair, and checking the time.
Thirty minutes til the meeting. He could walk.
It was a warm morning, the kind of morning that promised ungodly heat during the rest of the day. The landscaping on the side of the road drooped sadly, the light mist coming from the sprinklers not enough to combat the sun’s scorching rays.
There weren’t many other people out and about to notice the plants’ plight, and he couldn’t not notice the looks that those that had decided to brave the heat gave him. He could almost hear what they were thinking.
“What is he doing? Walking around without a mask? Does he have a death wish?”
Maybe he did… Maybe he did.
They had told him they had a makeshift cockpit set up in a lab downtown. There he would learn the controls, meet the captain and his copilot, be briefed about one thing or another, and who knows what else. There was almost three months until the mission began, two until the real ship would be anywhere near ready to start training in.That was a lot of time to just be fiddling around with a fake control panel.
Of course, from what he had been told, calling it a fake control panel would be a bit of an understatement.
He entered the lobby of the building, pulling his ID up on his screen and waving it at the doorperson, who nodded. “Morning, sir.”
He got into the elevator and pressed the button for the lab. The elevator music began to play, soft, tinny, and old. Hadn’t been updated for a while.
As the elevator progressed downward, he couldn’t help but wonder why this was all happening. Not the mission, of course, he knew why the mission was necessary, but why was he on the mission?
Why were they putting a retired, semidisgraced, pilot at the helm of a starship that would hold the hope of… everything? That would hold the future of everything?
They told him that most of the people that had been chosen had volunteered to go on the mission, but him, he had been… recruited.
Why? Were they insane?
Was he in any place to complain if they were? This seemed a lot like one of those things where if he didn’t comply, it wouldn’t be very good for his long term health.
Admittedly, that could be the paranoia talking.
The elevator dinged, and the door slid open.
A man in a green mechanical suit stood in front of him, a helmet tucked under his arm. His face was covered in scars, and one of his eyes was mechanical, although it’s unnatural makeup didn’t mean that the dark circle around it was any lighter than the one around it’s pair. His brown hair was tied back in a low ponytail, several days of unkemptness leaving his short beard rather messy. His suit was battered, and had obviously seen some sort of combat. Despite his apparent disarray, his back was straight, and his stance, although easy had a specific kind of stiffness that TFC knew all too well.
“Hope you’re not expecting me to salute.” He said dryly, wishing without much hope that the man would stand aside so he could get out of the elevator.
The man did not stand aside. He grinned, and held out his free hand. “You must be Tin.”
“That’s me.” TFC said, shaking his hand. “And you are…?”
“Captain Xisuma Void, of the 501st. I’ll be your CO on this voyage.”
“Nice to meet you… sir.” TFC said. “You’re here to give me the lowdown of what's happening, then?”
“Essentially.” Xisuma said, standing aside. TFC left the elevator, and they moved through the lab. In the center of the room was an open space with a large control panel- not that of a ship, of a computer of some sort- in the center, with several blue tanks stationed around it.
Xisuma noticed TFC looking at them, and changed directions, leading them tover to the control panel. “These are the cryostasis pods we’ll be taking with us.”
“Are they occupied?”
“Most of them will be,” Xisuma said, folding his hands behind his back. “But no, not at the moment. This is how we’ll be transporting most of the personnel who are needed on the ground rather than en route. Most of them are… genetically modified. Two of them are from the Hybridization project. I trust that won’t be a problem.”
“I mean, if I had a problem with them, I’d have a problem with me, so no. No problems here.”
Xisuma looked at him curiously, and he waved his left hand at him. “Oh.”
It was a beautiful prosthetic, full metal, with a screen in the forearm that gave him his health stats constantly, updating every second in normal times and every tenth of a second in times of duress. But that was standard, and that wasn’t what people had a problem with. People had a problem with the wires and tubing that ran through it and into his ‘natural’ body, carrying his blood and strengthening his bones. They had a problem with the parts of his brain stem and brain that had been replaced or augmented with machinery. They had a problem with the metal they had used, that had reacted with his organs, resulting in a slightly higher than normal radioactivity.
It wasn’t like he was hurting anybody. They just didn’t like that he was different. Typical humans.
“Here we are.” Xisuma said, as they arrived at what appeared to be the nose of a giant starship. “This is an exact replica of what you’ll be working with on Refuge.”
“That’s what they’re calling it?” TFC murmured, not paying very much attention to what the captain said next as he stepped inside the cockpit.
It was a beautiful ship- or it would be, if what Xisuma said was true. Seemed fairly standard- top of the line equipment, of course, but it was mostly just the normal-
“Wait a minute.” He said, leaning on the back of the pilot’s chair. “This has… inatmo, extatmo… why does this ship have weapons?” He turned to Xisuma, who was standing in the aisle. “This is a scientific mission.”
“But we don’t know what we’re going into. It’s literally uncharted territory. There could be hostiles, natives-“
“If there are natives, we aren’t going to colonize, right?”
Xisuma hesitated, and TFC stood up straight. “Right?”
“With the projected resources we have, we can only manage one landing. If the planetary scans don’t reveal any life, and we find it once we’ve landed, it’ll be too late. We can’t go back. We have to continue with colonization.” Xisuma said. “It wouldn’t be our first choice, of course, but-“
“Yeah, yeah. For the good of the human race.” TFC said dourly, going back to scanning the controls.
He paused, and blinked a couple of times. Wait. That couldn’t be right.
“That’s-“ He said, moving around the pilot’s chair and running a finger over the small round port to the left of the main controls.
“We copied it directly from the remains of your jet.” Xisuma said, moving closer and crossing his arms over his chest, his smile evident in his voice. “It hasn’t been installed into the actual ship yet, as we’ve been waiting to make sure it’s correct. Would you mind… testing it out?”
“No, I…” he shook his head, sitting down in the chair and reaching over to his left arm with his right. “No. Wow.”
“Wow? Is it bad? Is it incorrect already?” Xisuma asked, peering over his shoulder.
“No, no. It’s just…” he chuckled, tapping the screen on his arm and opening the hidden compartment that sat diretcly below it, withdrawing a slim cable. “You know this is what got me discharged, right?”
“Tampering with aerospace force equipment, refusal to follow orders. Dishonorable discharge.” Xisuma murmured as he leaned forward, and inserted the cable into the port.
It fit perfectly.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. They barely breathed.
“And here you are, a CO, asking me specifically to do it.” TFC said, after a moment, taking the cable out and putting it away, shutting the compartment.
“When you flew while you were… what did you call it?”
“Synced?”
“When you flew while you were synced, you did things they thought were impossible. You pulled off missions that should have gotten you killed, saved more lives… you should’ve heard what your team said about you when you were discharged.” Xisuma said, standing back a little bit. “You’re easily the greatest pilot that’s still alive.”
“And I’m also easily the worst person to work with- or did you not read that part of the files?” TFC said, standing up. “Stubborn, unwilling to comply with commands, refusal to follow orders, variations upon those themes, etc, etc, etc.”
“You didn’t do what you were told, you did what you thought was right. That’s not a bad trait, that’s a trait we need- especially for a mission like this.” Xisuma said, standing aside and following TFC out of the cockpit. “I can trust that you’ll do what’s in the best interest for the crew and the ship, even if I tell you not to.”
“I don’t think you’ll see that as a good thing when it’s actually happening.”
“Maybe not.” Xisuma put a hand on TFC’s shoulder, stopping him. He turned around. “But I know now that’s it’s a good thing. And I know that you’re the only person I want piloting this ship.”
“Well, when you’re buttering me up so nicely, how can I walk out on you?” TFC said. Xisuma grinned. “But there’s just one thing- the sync only worked so well because of a ring of cameras around the exterior of the jet that allowed me to see ‘what the jet saw’. They were mostly destroyed in the crash, so you probably weren’t able to copy them.”
“You tell us what you need, and we’ll get it for you.”
(( The Refuge AU is now being cross posted on AO3! Feel free to follow/bookmark on there if you think it’s easier, but, to be clear- all ‘command inputs’ will still be happening over here.))
((Inbox is currently empty.))
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
The conference room was small and sparsely decorated, little more than a round table and a handful of chairs in an empty room. The walls were bare, the table empty, and the window that looked out into the hallways covered by blinds.
The window that looked out onto the street, to the east, may as well have been covered too. The only thing visible when you looked out was the greyish hue of smog.
Doc sat in the chair closest to the door on the east side of the table. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his feet were up on the table. He knew his attempt at nonchalance wasn’t fooling anybody, but it didn’t hurt to try.
Etho sat to his right, leaned over the table and absently spinning a rubix cube in his hands. Every so often he’d scramble it and then solve it quickly afterward, seeming slightly disappointed. His left eye was covered in a plain black eyepatch that wasn’t quite big enough to cover the extent of the scarring.
Bdubs sat on Etho’s other side, the drumming of his fingers on the table and the way his eyes flickered from one side of the room to the other every couple of seconds the only things betraying the amount of nervous energy contained inside him.
Beef sat in the last chair on their side of the table, staring at the covered interior window as if he could see through the blinds and into the hallways behind it. His face was expressionless, apparently lost in thought.
No one spoke.
It was the kind of silence they had sat in many times before- part comfort, of being around people who know you better than almost anyone else in the world, and part anxious anticipation. None of them knew exactly what was going to come next.
They had been contacted individually a week or two ago, letters that had no return address slipped under doors or through mail slots. What usually would have been some sort of threat or insult turned out to be a job interview opportunity.
Come to a certain building two weeks from now, the letters read. Tell the receptionist that you’re looking for refuge. Someone will be in to see you shortly.
The most paranoid of the group (Beef) had found out that it was sent by some sort of government official or organization before he contacted the rest of the group to see if they had received the same summons. After a brief discussion, a decision was reached. They would hear out whoever wanted to talk to them.
If things went down badly… as long as they were together they would be able to fight their way out.
Most of the invitation had been true. They found the correct address, and were taken to a room when they asked for refuge… but the person that they were waiting for had not come shortly. It felt like they had been waiting for an eternity- even though his internal clock told him it had only been about twenty minutes.
Ten more minutes, he decided, and then he would leave. If whoever the hell wanted to talk to them was going to be late, they should have told the receptionist to tell them or something. It was basic human decency- although admittedly that did seem to be in short supply these days.
The door handle turned with a click, and four pairs of eyes locked onto it immediately. There was a moment of nothing, and then the door swung open, letting a relatively tall brunette man into the room.
His hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, all brown except for a single streak of white from a large x-shaped scar that stretched across most of his face. It was an old scar, very faded, the chunks of white in his hair and his beard some of the only things left to prove that it was there.
He looked slightly winded as he smiled, shutting the door behind him. “Hello, gentlemen. Sorry about the wait. There was a bit of a… conflict. Downstairs, and I ended up having to sort it out.”
He walked over to the table pulling off his gloves and unwrapping his respirator from around his neck before sitting down across from Etho and folding his hands together. “So. You all actually came.”
“Did you expect us not to?” Beef asked, eyeing him warily, apparently not recognizing him.
“Of course not! A government official contacting you out of nowhere, asking you to come and meet them? The fact that you have enough faith in humanity to come here, despite everything, without knowing anything about why you’re being asked here… it’s amazing.” He grinned.
“Amazing is one word for it, sure.” Bdubs said, leaning forward in his chair. “But uh, who are you, and why exactly are we here?”
“If you’re going to try to kill us, we’ll give you a thirty second head start.” Doc added dryly. “But no more than that.”
The man chuckled. “We’re not trying to kill you, we’re trying to offer you a job.”
A job?
Before Doc could express his hesitation, the man continued, putting a hand to his chest:
“My name is Xisuma Void, Captain Void to most people, but you can call me X. I’m putting together a crew.”
“Like a boat crew?” Bdubs asked, brow furrowing slightly.
“A spaceship crew. I’ve been given a mission- go to uncharted territory, chart it, and start a colony on a planet outside the solar system.” He extended his hands in front of him, gesturing to the team. “I’d like you to come with me.”
For a moment, there was silence.
“…What’s the catch?” Etho asked slowly.
“Catch?” Xisuma asked.
“We’re not from here.” Etho said, and Beef chuckled. “There’s always a catch.”
Xisuma shook his head slowly. “I don’t think… well… how about I just tell you what the job would entail before we decide if there’s a catch or not?”
Doc looked across the table to the others. Bdubs nodded, Beef shrugged, and Etho set down the rubix cube for the first time since he had gotten into the room. X took that as permission to continue.
“Do you remember all those stories in the news about the government funneling money into a secret project?” X asked.
“And everybody was worried that it was gonna be another war.” Bdubs said. “We remember.”
“They were building a ship for this mission. It’s been in progress for years now, but they’ve ramped up construction in the past several months. The ship will be fully built in three months, and the mission will begin no sooner than six months from now.” Xisuma stood, either ignoring or not noticing the way that the rest of the group tensed when he moved, and began to pace up and down the length of the table. “The ship- the Refuge- will exit the solar system in about one and a half years, and then it’ll be four and a half to eight and a half years til we reach Haven.”
“Haven?” Doc interjected. “That’s the planet?”
X nodded.
“Bit on the nose, don’t you think?” Bdubs asked.
X shrugged, not pausing in his pacing. “I wasn’t the one that named it.”
“So what do you want us to do?” Beef asked. “None of us have ever been to space before. Sure, Etho may have been… built for it, but…”
“You don’t have to worry about the space stuff.” X said, stopping and leaning on the back of the chair he had been sitting in. “Just the landing part of the mission. The way that this is set up, there are two smaller groups within the crew as a whole- the ship crew and the colony crew. While the ship crew will transition into being a part of the colony crew once we land, the colony crew doesn’t have to be a part ship crew. It’s unnecessary, and most of the crew mates don’t have essential skills for the trip.”
“So what does the colony crew do during the flight?” Beef asked, his brow furrowed.
“Sleep.” X responded. “We have two cryogeneticists on the crew that will be maintaining and caring for frozen personnel and assets.”
“Which one would we be?” Doc asked.
X looked uncomfortable, as if he didn’t know whether the question was a joke or not. “Personnel… in total, if you decide to take me up on the offer, we’ll have nine people frozen out of a crew of thirty six. Most of the ship can be run mechanically, but we still need the ship crew to oversee everything.”
“And what would we be doing when we get planet-side? What’s our actual job going to be?” Bdubs asked.
“Building, scouting surrounding areas, neutralizing any potential threats, whatever needs to be done, really.” X sighed. “Unfortunately, since a mission like this has never been attempted before, I can’t tell you exactly what we’re going to need you to do. If you accept, I can give you the paperwork that runs through several potential scenarios, but… there’s a lot that we just don’t know.”
“I’m not going to ask you to sign on immediately, but I’d like your responses as soon as possible.” X concluded. “There’s a packet with the receptionist downstairs that has more information-“
“I’ll do it.” Bdubs said, cutting him off.
X blinked. “What?”
“I’ll do it.” He repeated, leaning back in his chair. “It sounds exciting, it’s a chance to travel somewhere without risking being carsick, it’s getting away from everything that’s going on here… and we’re probably not gonna get another chance at this for at least six years, right?”
X nodded.
“I can’t speak for the guys, obviously, but you’ve got one.”
“I’m in too.” Doc decided, taking his feet off the table and sitting up straight. “There’s not a whole hell of a lot for me to do here, not many people that want me here, and somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t get yourself killed.” He said, pointing a vaguel accusatory finger at Bdubs, who rolled his eyes. “I still want the packet, but I’m in.”
X grinned. “Wonderful! And… I suppose, do you want to make your decision now too?” He turned his attention to Beef and Etho.
“I’ll agree… but I reserve the right to change my mind if we start getting ready and things seem off.” Etho said, picking his rubix cube back up and spinning it on its corner. “I may have been made for space travel, but they kept me grounded for a reason.”
“I agree with Etho, minus the spaceman bit.” Beef said. “Also, can we have your phone number, or some way to contact you?”
Xisuma’s grin turned into a softer, warmer smile. “Everything that you’ll need is going to be in the packets. Welcome to the team, gentlemen.”
The model in the center of the entrance hall spun slowly, the mechanical, to scale, planets orbiting the massive sun at a rate thousands of times faster than their real counterparts did. The fake sun glowed softly, it’s light dimming briefly as Jupiter crossed between it and the man viewing it. Jupiter’s moons and the metallic arms that held them above the ground created a spiderweb pattern of shadows on the ground that slowly swept across the body of the visitor as it moved.
Xisuma stood several feet away from the center of the solar system model, his eyes tracing the path of Earth as it came out from behind the sun in an almost melancholy way. His brown hair was tied back in a short ponytail, his beard freshly trimmed- although you couldn’t see it at all thanks to the respirator he was wearing. He had even gone to the trouble of putting on one of his more casual dress uniforms.
The effort hadn’t gone unnoticed by the museum staff, drawing a couple of confused looks and some whispers, but he did his best to ignore him. What he had to say wouldn’t go over well, so he might as well look nice. Get some compliments.
The door opened, and the employee greeted the group of people that walked in cheerfully. X turned around, taking a deep breath, and smiled. Show time.
An older woman, just a bit shorter than him, her hair almost completely white, was pushing the wheelchair of a man that someone might have mistaken for him, if his hair weren't as white as hers and his face covered in scars. The woman checked in at the front desk quickly, showing a pass, and then turned and saw him, her eyes crinkling in a smile.
She walked over to Xisuma, the man in the wheelchair saying something and rolling over to the other side of the model.
“Hey, mom.” He said, trying to ignore the way his bottom lip trembled when she pulled him into a hug, her respirator digging into his shoulder.
“You’re all dressed up.” She said, stepping back and putting a hand to his cheek in the way that she always had when they were little. “You look nice, honey.”
“Thank you.” He said, bringing his hand up to cover hers. “You look nice too.”
She chuckled, patting the side of his face and then putting her hand down. “Oh, stop. I didn’t realize that this was going to be a formal dress event, or I would’ve thrown on something besides my work clothes.”
“It’s not a formal dress event, I just felt like cleaning up a bit.” Xisuma shrugged, hoping that the tension in his shoulders didn’t betray the news that he was bringing. “Haven’t had the opportunity to wear this in a bit, got a discount on museum admission, you know.”
She smiled at him again, but her eyes seemed… sad. “…Xisuma, we’re very proud of you. You know that, right?”
“I know.” He replied. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, just looking at him, as if she was searching for an answer to an unspoken question in his eyes. Whatever she found there didn’t seem to change her emotions, her soft smile and that strange sadness remaining as she pulled her purse to the front of her, opening it.
“You should go talk to your brother, dear. I need to go change my filter before I forget.”
“You didn’t change it before you came here? Mom…”
She waved one hand in the air as she continued to move things around in her purse with the other. “The alert came just as we got inside. A few minutes on a bad filter isn’t going to kill me.”
“…Alright. We’ll wait for you.” Xisuma said, and his mother waved him off as he headed over to the other side of the model where his twin brother was sitting, staring up at the planets in silence.
He reached his side, and stopped. Neither of them spoke for what seemed like forever.
Finally his brother spoke. “Xisuma.”
“Xenelis.” He replied, looking down to find his twin’s steely grey eyes staring up at him.
“Where are they sending you this time?” Xenelis’ voice was quiet, raspy- although he didn’t know if it was from the medical grade respirator attached to his mouth and nose or from his vocal cords being underused.
Xisuma started. “What? What do you mean?”
“You didn’t visit us at home or at the hospital, you called us out. You’re dressed up, but you didn’t tell us that this was a formal event. You’re stiffer than usual, which is saying something, and you look like you’re homesick even though you’re a fifteen minute commute away from your apartment.” Xenelis said, his voice carefully void of all emotion. “Where are they sending you?”
Xisuma looked away, breaking eyes contact and staring up at the solar system spinning above him. “Off planet.”
“Out of galaxy?”
“Yes.”
“How far?”
Xisuma didn’t respond for a moment too long, and that was all the answer that his brother needed. His sigh, heavy and full of disappointment and bitterness, hit Xisuma like a bullet to the heart.
“Of course.” Xenelis said. “Well, congratulations. You did it. You left us behind, just like you always wanted too. Good job, bro.”
“Damnit, Xen, you know that’s not-“ Xisuma rounded on his brother, hands automatically going to his hips.
“It’s not? It’s not? It sure as hell looks like it is. You’ve been leaving our whole lives, Iz- it’s just nonstop leaving and leaving and leaving- and now you finally don’t have to come back!” Xenelis snapped. “Good for you! Living your dream!”
“This mission is for the sake of the entire planet! I can’t just refuse to go on a mission that might make or break the human race-“
“Of course you can! You’re not the only high ranking officer out there! They could’ve found someone else, anyone else!”
“They came to me, specifically, asked me to pick out a crew, told me that we would save the world- how am I supposed to turn that offer down? You would’ve taken it in an instant-“
“Not if you were in my position I fucking wouldn’t’ve-!”
“Boys?” Their mom called from the other side of the model.
“Coming, mom.” They chorused automatically, shooting each other a glare. Xisuma walked around one side of the model and Xenelis rolled around the other, meeting in the middle.
Their mother smiled at both of them, apparently unaware of the argument that had been rapidly escalating until she entered the conversation. “There you are. Shall we go look at the new exhibits? I heard they had one about the Titanic.”
“Sure, mom.” Xisuma said, falling into step behind her as she led the way into the museum.
The visit was… cordial. Their mother chatted with both of them about equally, talking about this and that, whatever came to her mind. She was probably trying to fill the heavy silence that fell between the twins, Xenelis refusing to speak to Xisuma, and vice versa.
When they reached the end of their museum tour, pausing in the aquarium section before they left, Xisuma bit the bullet.
“Mom,” he said, folding his hands behind his back. “I have something I need to tell you.”
“Go ahead, dear.” She said absently, watching as a massive manta ray swam overhead.
Bathed in the blue light from the massive aquarium tank, she and Xenelis looked almost peaceful. Gods only knew how made Xen really was, however, and Xisuma knew that it was only a trick of the light. Or maybe it was a trick of the mind, him trying to convince himself that him leaving wouldn’t hurt them as much as he knew it would.
“…I’m leaving.” He said, turning to watch as the manta continued on its way. “They’re sending me on a mission to deep space.”
Her eyes closed momentary, steeling herself as she turned to him. “Deep space?”
“Past Centauri.” He said quietly. “They’re building a team of scientists and researchers to start colonizing a new planet.”
“Why so far away?” She asked, her voice trembling slightly.
“Mars can’t sustain a population like Earth’s, and after the Venus colonies failed… the galaxy isn’t suitable for life anymore. You know it’s true, mom. You’ve watched it happen. Think of how different things are now from when you were a kid.” His tone was soft, but he knew that there was a hint of pleading in there somewhere. She must understand. She wouldn’t be mad at him too, right?
“I know, I know, but… but of all people, why you?” Her voice broke, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.
Xisuma’s heart sank as he stepped forward, hugging her. “They couldn’t find anyone better to do it. Mom-“
“When will you come home?” She asked, her voice thick with tears.
“I don’t know.” Maybe never. “I… don’t know.”
She cried for a while, and her sons remained in silence, one other knowing what to say, and the other not wanting to say anything.
When she finally stopped, she only had positive things to say. She was proud of him, she was sure he was going to do great, they would be able to communicate, even if it wasn’t face to face… but that sorrow in her eyes that he had noticed before was much more prevalent.
Had she expected this?
Was he really as predictable as Xen said he was?
They said their goodbyes just outside the museum. His mother hugged him tightly, told him she would see him soon.
Xenelis’ eyes crinkled in what he knew was some form of a mocking smile or sneer. “I hope you have fun, Iz.”
“I’m not leaving right away. I’ll see you again.”
“That’s what you always say.” Xen retorted sharply, turning and rolling away towards the ramp down to the street, where their mother was already waiting.
Xisuma stood at the door to the museum and watched them get into a car and fade out of sight, his heart heavy in his chest.
Computer: New Command unlocked!
Computer: Input the command Profile: [Name] to open the file associated with that person. Please note: some files or portions of files may not be available due to clearance levels.
