Futuristic The Black Divide (Paused)

[ArcticFox]

Dylan sends back an acknowledgement, and you make your way to the belly of the ship: the airlock, where any sudden contamination could be stopped with a controlled blast of radiation from the engines. It's the one security measure that civilian merchant ships are allowed to carry, though you've never heard of anyone using it on people.

After only a few minutes, Captain Salvatore comes through the airlock with two crew members in tow. Between their sallow, haggard faces and ragged clothes, they look like death. Captain Salvatore has a burn down one side of his face that hasn't been dressed properly and its weeping cloudy yellow pus down his neck.

All three smell awful.

"Thank you for helping us," Salvatore says hoarsely after you make brief introductions. "I hope you'll forgive me for not shaking hands. Angela, my XO, died from infection, and she was our medic. We've been in worse condition since then."

- Ask Shiori to check them out and give them medical supplies.
- Ask Oscar to get a few medical supplies.
- Say they can manage their own burns.
- Assure them you'll give them food supplies, but don't offer anything else.

 

[Cartoonicat]

I fail to keep the surprise off my face; despite their request for emergency aid, I hadn't expected any more than a need for more supplies. This, though... I'm no doctor but, from where I stand, giving them food supplies and no medical assistance seems a waste of resources and precious life.

"Zyrina," I introduce myself briefly, waving off his concern. "Don't apologize, I—" I stop myself short, unsure of what to say. I can't imagine the pain he's in, having lost his XO. On top of that, he's likely at risk of losing everything and everyone else. What can I possibly say to make the situation better? "I'm going to call for our medic," I reassure him, typing away to Shiori from my comms as I do so. "Do you need to sit down?"

There are no chairs in the airlock and I am apprehensive to let them further aboard my ship—using a blast of concentrated radiation on human beings is not an option—but I gesture to the floor anyway, albeit lamely, a thousand thoughts running through my head:

What happened? Where did that burn come from, and the infection? Have they encountered other ships before us? Can I even save these people?

Do I have any pillows for them to sit on?

 

[ArcticFox]

"We are fine, just tired." Captain Salvatore responds.

Shiori promises to be down as soon as possible, and in fact, she arrives before Oscar and Dylan do.

She is self-consciously wrapped in a white coat and gloves, and carries a medical kit. You step back and let her work, watching her disinfect and bind Salvatore's burn, murmuring quietly with him and his crew.

Salvatore cuts a grateful glance at you before his eyes flutter shut with pain and exhaustion.

Shortly after Shiori starts working, Oscar and Dylan arrive with a trolley piled with supplies. They glance at the airlock, and at you, in a wordless question.

- Tell Oscar and Dylan to take the supplies through to their ship.
- Leave the supplies for Salvatore's men to take to their ship.

 

[Cartoonicat]

I feel a sense of relief at Shiori's arrival when, just hours ago, her presence would have sent me running in fear of my own check-up. Now that she's here, I'm more confident things will go okay.

Oscar and Dylan reach the airlock shortly after, a question in their eyes. I subtly shake my head 'no' before addressing Salvatore, should he still be awake, and his company. "We have supplies for you to take back to your ship," I say, trying to keep the air light despite my reasons for keeping Oscar and Dylan on the Eleos.

After the announcement, I try to gauge whether or not any of the visitors seem well enough to tell me what happened.

 

[ArcticFox]

Salvatore's crew members take the trolley into the airlock. They huddle near the airlock door, talking in quiet murmurs, while Shiori crosses her arms watching them, and while Salvatore rests against the wall with his eyes closed.

He looks tired, but not tired enough not to answer your questions.

- Ask about the XO.
- Ask about their supplies.
- Ask about their engines.
- Ask about their mission.
- Let him rest.

 

[Cartoonicat]

Watching them stand like zombies, tired and ill, makes me feel guilty for holding them up. They should be resting, but the only way to put my mind at ease is to find out what went wrong aboard their ship and why.

"Captain Salvatore?" I begin, "If you don't mind my asking, what happened to cause all this?" If their engines failed with no backup, it'd make sense that they'd become low on food supplies, but it doesn't explain the infection or the burn along the side of his face. On top of that, if something had gone wrong with their engines, what was their plan to fix the problem? Would I be able to help?

 

[ArcticFox]

"Our engine malfunctioned and we got stranded. Parts problems. We used up our spare, and had to jury rig, and the make-do damaged the engine."

"But couldn't you buy a new part at Martian Beta?" Shiori asks, then shrinks back as if remembering herself.

He sighs, and scrubs his hand over his eyes. "We're not rich. I didn't have the money to restock, and I thought we would be okay."

Finally, the resupply is finished, and Dylan takes the now-empty trolley away while Salvatore's crew speak to him with inaudible whispers and sharp gestures. He shakes his head. One responds, looking pleading; Salvatore presses his lips together in concern.

Oscar heads over to shake Salvatore's hand. His crew tense, parting to stand at Oscar's left and right.

- Warn Oscar.
- Tell Salvatore to stand down.
- Everything seems normal, you are just imagining it.
- Move closer to one of Salvatore's crew.

 

[Cartoonicat]

Warning bells go off in my head and I take a step towards my XO, the words "Oscar, don't!" spilling past my lips. My response is rude, but I don't want him to touch Salvatore; I don't want him amidst the infected crew; I don't want him to get sick.

 

[ArcticFox]

Just as you yell out for him to stand back, Salvatore snaps out a signal and his crew members grab Oscar. One spins him into a chokehold: one hand pushing his head down, one arm wrapped around his neck. The other pulls out a handheld nail gun from her jacket and points it at you. She must have brought it from their ship.

"This isn't enough," Salvatore says brokenly as Oscar pants for breath. "I know you've given us so much, but it's not enough. My engineer is so malnourished, he can't even get up, and we need medicine, and fuel. I'm sorry, but you have to give us more."

The woman with the nail gun is crying, you realise. Her hands are dirty and shaking, and she's crying, but she's pointing the nail gun right at you.

"Look," Oscar says in a choked rasp, "Zyrina, do whatever you need to for the ship. Don't worry about me, okay? You're still the-"

The crew member restraining him tugs at his neck and snarls, "Shut up. We need this more than you do."

Shiori is quiet, reserved, fades into the background whenever she can, and you only realise she's close when she murmurs quietly in your ear: "The woman with the nail gun has a weak right knee and a burn on her left arm."

"Captain. Zyrina, please." Salvatore shakes his head. "Don't let your crew member get hurt, or worse. Help us."

- Give them more supplies.
- Use what Shiori said and disarm the woman with the nail gun.
- Intimidate Salvatore.
- Take one of Salvatore's crew members as a hostage in return.
- Try talking them down.

 

[Cartoonicat]

My eyes go wide and I stop short. Thinking back, the fidgeting and sharp whispers were obvious. So obvious that, now, I wonder if I'd noticed it all along and ignored the strange behavior, hoping I was imagining things.

Or maybe I'd just been too dumb to notice. I'm filled with more shame at my own shortcomings than anger for Salvatore and his crew. They're ill, starving, and desperate. I have no excuse.

"Captain Salvatore, you and your crew are ill. Fighting will not end in your favor," I remind him carefully, both worried about Oscar and the visitors themselves. Though I take note of Shiori's observation, I can't bring myself to fight yet; I have to find a peaceful resolution. I don't want to fight. "Let's find another solution."

 

[ArcticFox]

You know words, you know inspiration, you know loyalty, and you know you're a better captain than Salvatore. You speak to their hearts. Oscar watches you, his face dark, his eyes shining with admiration.

"Don't listen to her," Salvatore says breathlessly, but that's not enough.

The female crew member drops her nail gun and kicks it across the floor; it chugs an industrial rivet into the floor with a snarl of compressed air. "Juan," she says, looking over at the man holding Oscar back. "Come on. Let's get our captain home."

Juan looks over at Salvatore, and gives him a grim not-quite-smile.

The noise Oscar makes when they throw him forward is desperate and sharp, and he doubles over in a coughing fit as he staggers towards you. Shiori grabs his shoulders and steers him across the corridor so no one else can reach him. She sits him down, examines his throat, and says sharply, "Ice and rest and you'll be fine, Mr. Moreno."

"Go," Salvatore snarls to his crew. They're all exhausted: they all have to lean heavily on each other to even reach the airlock. Salvatore turns back to you one last time. "Look, I'm sorry. My sister Anjela. She captains the Elegant Runner, an independent aid ship near the Belt. If you need anything, go to her. I'll send you their transponder signal and a passcode."

- Answer.

 

[Cartoonicat]

I try not to look relieved, but I've always been bad at hiding my feelings. My shoulders visibly droop with a sigh. I resist the urge to spare Oscar a concerned glance, no matter how worried I am for his condition, for the simple fact I need to stay alert, now, even if Salvatore's attack has relented.

Though, I do watch his crew behind him, my heart hurting for their situation. "Thank you," I tell Salvatore, both grateful for the information and how we were able to come to terms peacefully. "I hope we meet again, next time on better terms." I've given them all I can without compromising my own crew beyond repair, so I offer a smile to try and instill hope that things will be okay. That, despite their struggles, they'll make it to the next time.

 

[ArcticFox]

Captain Salvatore sighs, pained and regretful, and triggers the airlock sequence. They're finally off your ship.

Oscar hauls himself to his feet and coughs. "Zyrina. If you get the inventory sorted, I'm happy to lead on decontamination and course correction. Go on."

He's volunteered himself for the bulk of the work, but you know there's no arguing with your XO when he tells you to look after yourself: you scrub down in the decontamination shower by the airlock, captain's right to go first.

It's late, and the only place you'll truly have privacy is in your room.

- Go to sleep.
- Think on what happened.
- Forget about today.
- Write up a report.

 

[Cartoonicat]

Back in my room, I'm able to both decompress and experience the full weight of today, all at once. It's a lot to take in what happened with Salvatore, but my job isn't done yet: Instead of reflecting on today, I set to work writing up a report, careful to omit the details of Salvatore's betrayal, in case we run into someone along our route that can offer further aid. I meant what I said to Salvatore; I hope to meet him and his crew again one day because that'd mean they survived.

Throughout the report I glance at the clock, hoping I don't finish too late to check in on Oscar.

 

[ArcticFox]

You write an account of the day's events as best you can, until your vision blurs and the glowing screen swims lazily in front of you.

When you check in on Oscar, Shiori picks up to inform you that he's fine and that she forced him to bed.

Your back clicks as you stand, and haul yourself over to your bed. It's day fourteen. You have five and a half months left until you reach Vesta Station.

--

The next day you are all gathered together for dinnertime. You don't always eat together as a crew - your schedules often refuse to sync - but tonight everyone's gathered to eat some of Oscar's spiced lentils and fried rice.

Opposite you sit Dylan and Shiori, talking so quietly it's hard to catch the topic, and at one end of the table Oscar's propped up his chin on one hand, typing something on his tablet with his food forgotten by his elbow.

At the other end of the table Roshan and Eira sit together, as they normally do, and are taking the familiar opportunity to argue about something. They'll argue about anything under the sun, if you're honest with yourself, but today it's the Solar Liberation Collective: an anarchist group active in and around the belt colonies, purportedly fighting for the rights and safety of colonists when Earth and Mars try to take advantage.

"Solib is a dumb nickname, anyway," Eira mutters; Roshan gasps with outrage about how that isn't even a valid argument.

Of course Victor's not around. He doesn't involve himself with the crew in moments like these. But you're here.

- Talk to Roshan and Eira.
- Talk to Dylan and Shiori.
- Talk to Oscar.
- Don't talk to anyone.

 

[Cartoonicat]

As interesting a topic that the Solar Liberation Collective is, I can't help but watch Oscar ignore his food in favor of... I'm not sure what he's typing, exactly, but it's probably work-related.

"What are you working on?" I slide over to him, curious about what has him this distracted when eating together is so rare. Plus, spicy lentils and fried rice? Too good to ignore.

 

[ArcticFox]

"I'm going through inventory," Oscar says, waggling his tablet computer at you. "And T-PES reports. And communicating with the ships close to us on the flight path. We've had several vessels passing on thanks about the Elegant Glider, which is nice, but, you know. I'm trying to get them to put their money where their mouth is and give us some supply cache data for being decent people."

He glances up at you, obviously angling for advice.

- Tell him to focus on the ship.
- Tell him to focus on informing others about the Elegant Glider's location and urge them to help.
- Tell him to get some supply cache locations if possible.
- Something else.

 

[Cartoonicat]

"Ah," I nod, taking a bite of my dinner. Each bite comes with a thoughtful hum as I try to prioritize. "How are we looking on supplies? If we have enough to push through a little longer, then focus on informing others about the Elegant Glider's location. Kindness will repay kindness, eventually."

I swallow a bite too quickly and nearly cough, hand waving for his attention. Clearing my throat, I add: "But if we're nearly scraping the barrel, start looking for supply cache locations. We can't help anyone if we're out of our own supplies." While I don't regret helping Salvatore and his crew, I do worry about the hit such generosity did to our inventory.

 

[ArcticFox]

"You're right," he says. "You know, when I was younger…"

He slides his computer to one side, and turns to give you his full attention.

"I grew up on the Brazilian coastline. My family members were all conservationists. Big C, militaristic. I couldn't deal with the pressure, so I left. But since coming out here, learning about being someone people can depend on, learning from you…"

He scrubs at the back of his neck with one hand, and breaks off.

"I know you grew up with a fairly big family, like me. But what did you want to do when you were little? Before they told you what they wanted you to be?"

- Answer.

 

[Cartoonicat]

Oscar's story reminds me of home. The uncomfortable, high-collared dresses and extravagant dinner parties meant to make or break alliances via critical nuances that I still, to this day, don't understand. It's comforting to know that the new Zyrina—the one in the Here and Now—is the one leading by example, not the Zyrina pressed under her parents' thumbs.

I find myself smiling at the thought, twirling my utensil through the lentils. "I always wanted to..." The thought is embarrassing now that I'm older, and the cringe-factor is off the charts, but I resolve to tell him anyway. "I wanted to be a superhero. The ones we read about in the DigiMags who always fly in and save the day," I confess through another bite of dinner, hand covering my mouth for politeness' sake. Swallowing, I can't help but laugh a bit. "It's kind of embarrassing—it wasn't like I was five, I was a teenager. Still, I had a costume designed and everything."

 

[ArcticFox]

Oscar doesn't judge you, he only nods slowly. "We've both come a long way," he murmurs, before turning back to his work.

The door to the galley swings open abruptly, and the conversations around the dinner table fall silent as Victor enters. He's wearing another suit, grey pinstripe and perfectly pressed folds, and he makes his way to the food cupboards with airy nonchalance.

"He's got his own food down in his lair," Roshan hisses under his breath. "What's he doing here?"

- Answer.
- Welcome Victor.
- Stay silent.

 

[Cartoonicat]

I don't notice a new presence until a hush befalls the dinner table, leaving my talking about superheroes and childhood dreams feeling loud despite my soft, embarrassed volume. Thankfully, it doesn't seem like anyone noticed. They're too busy looking at Victor.

Wait, Victor? While I wonder the same thing as Roshan, I seize the opportunity: "Hi Victor! Are you here to eat with us?" Now's the perfect opportunity for him to get to know the crew as people rather than service-workers to complain about.

 

[ArcticFox]

Victor quietly raises an eyebrow at you, but before he can reply, the notifications system bleeps a communication alert.

"Hang on," Oscar says, and taps a couple of commands on his tablet, sending information through to the touchscreen set into the galley table. Everyone leans in to read it, you included.

"It's a sailship," Eira mutters. "The Children of the Nova."

Dylan makes a soft, questioning noise, and she rolls her eyes; Shiori jumps in before Eira can comment. "They're an unofficial religious group. They've sworn their faith to the Solar System. To the Black itself. They drift around the Black on solar winds because of their religion," Eira continues. "They go wherever the solar winds take them, only eat what they grow hydroponically, at the whim of the universe, or whatever. Religious weirdos."

"The Christian over here thanks you for your comment," Roshan says sharply, and Eira winces, holding up her hands in silent apology.

"Anyway," Oscar says, giving the two of them a worried frown, "their systems are more efficient than ours, considering they have enough to give freely to travellers like us. Speaking of which, they want to meet."

Dylan seems to be mulling everything over, he glances over to you and murmurs, "Captain? What's your take on them?"

You've come across them before, anyone who's been in the Black for a while has. You remember what happened the last time the Eleos bumped into them:

- You had a party to honour the Black.
- You took the free supplies they were willing to offer.
- You traded.
- You argued.
- Something else.

 

[Cartoonicat]

I find myself excited to meet with the ‘Religious Weirdos’ again, not because I truly believe in their philosophy but because they were so kind the last time we met. “Oh come on, Eira,” I say, “they might be a little off-brand than most, but they’re not bad.” Not everyone offers supplies to travelers, whether they have the supplies to share or not.

Last time, while we didn’t have time in the schedule to throw a party, I did strive to learn more about the Children of the Nova, finding them interesting as well as kind for sharing their supplies. This time, I’d like to get to know them even more and, perhaps, return their generosity somehow.

”I’d be happy to meet,” I say, “it’s been a while.”

 

[ArcticFox]

Home-grown food - fresh fruits and vegetables, pulses and grains, real food - medicine from their labs, from trades, the parts they've picked up that they don't need, but they don't only trade items and supplies, they'll trade expertise. You loaned out Roshan to fix their water purifier once, and in return one of their programmers overhauled your navigation software. More than one ship in the Black owes their survival to trading with the Children of the Nova.

"The important thing to remember," Victor says from his spot in the kitchen, "is that your schedule is far too tight, and of course you aren't going to meet with them."

Roshan pushes his chair back from the dining table with a squeal of metal against metal. "I hope you're not giving our captain orders."

"I'd only need to give the order if I thought she would disobey me."

Eira frowns at Victor. "With respect, sir-"

"You only talk to him like that because you want to go corporate," Roshan snaps. "You're phoney as hell."

The expression on Victor's face is a perfectly sculpted sneer. "This is exactly why it's vital to avoid these distractions. You are, all of you, undisciplined and distractable. Zyrina, instruct your navigator to increase speed and ignore the cultists."

Your crew are absolutely scandalised, and with good reason. Out here in the Black, every ship answers the call of the Novae. You will do the same:

- To annoy Victor.
- Because it's bad luck not to.
- Because you like them.
- Because you need supplies.
- Because you planned for these kinds of stops.
- You won't.