Futuristic The Black Divide (Paused)

[ArcticFox]

You can't just sit around when Dylan might need help so you head over to the maintenance airlock down near the cargo entrance. It doesn't connect with other ships, but it's situated perfectly to access the network of shielding panels, sensor arrays, and electronics. There's a prep room: shower pod, lockers, and suits for all of the crew, even Shiori just in case, and repair equipment.

Dylan's locker hangs open, empty.

- Put on your suit before looking for him in the airlock.
- Grab a comms pack from the helmet to communicate with Dylan.
- Head straight into the airlock.

 

[Cartoonicat]

"Okay, slightly panicking..." I breathe, fumbling with my suit as worry begins to rise. I'm quick but inefficient, opting to head to the airlock without double-checking that I have everything I need.

 

[ArcticFox]

It's not a quick affair: heat-retaining, vacuum-safe jumpsuit in case of a suit leak, then each piece interlocking together, bigger and bulkier from the ankles up. You tuck the helmet under your arm. You type in the code to open the airlock, watch the screen as it reminds you of the code you'll need to enter to actually open the airlock to vacuum. You haul the door open, step through and let it seal shut behind you.

The airlock is small, and Dylan is crammed into one corner, his suit on, helmet in the opposite corner. He's on the floor, arms around his knees, breathing far too quickly to be healthy. You understand: you've seen people in this state before, including the time Eira had thought she'd messed up the route to send the Eleos into an asteroid. Dylan is having a panic attack.

He looks up at you, his face ashen, eyes red-rimmed, and gasps a gulping breath.

"I'm so sorry, Zyrina - I can't go out, please don't make me go out," he pants, tear-tracks all down his cheeks, hands spasming. "Please."

- Talk to him.
- Force him to go out.
- Let him calm down, but then tell him to go out.
- Go and do the job yourself.

 

[Cartoonicat]

My heart somehow soars and falls, all at once. Dylan is safe, but he... "Hey, it's gonna be okay," I reassure him and move forward carefully, intent on giving him space but also remaining nearby should something happen. Roshan is going to have to wait on that extraction work, meaning Victor is going to have to wait, yet again, on a pick-up in the schedule.

I don't ask prying questions, I don't give commands, I don't force him. Instead, taking note of his trembling hands, I gesture to his suit. "Deep breaths. Try touching something," I suggest, running a hand along the sleeve of my own jumpsuit as an example, fingers noting the texture and folds and tautness. A distraction I'd used many times growing up.

 

[ArcticFox]

He shudders, but nods, and gives you a sad smile. "You'll hate me. The others will… I can't believe I've put myself, you guys, in this situation…."

Dylan stares down at his hands and takes a deep, shaky breath. "Thalassophobia. It's classically a fear of the ocean, deep ocean, that big unknown stretch, but when I look out there - it's the same. I'm afraid of space."

He sighs, shakes his head with a grimace.
"God, I'm so stupid."

- Force him to go out.
- Ask him to go out.
- Go and do the job yourself.

 

[Cartoonicat]

Well, I hadn't expected that, and it certainly is... inconvenient, to put it nicely. "Hey, you're not stupid," I carefully place a hand on his shoulder, attempting to offer reassurance but not wanting to upset him further. "Everyone has something that holds them back. Or, tries to, anyway," I say, knowing full-well what my own setbacks are. It is rare that I step out of my comfort zone even when logic dictates I must, so I can't ask the same of Dylan, much less force him. But I might be able to help him.

"What if we went together?" I know it's a shot in the dark—people with phobias don't bend so easily in the face of fear—but it's the only thing I can think to do at this moment aside from completing the job myself.

 

[ArcticFox]

"I - Zyrina, you don't have to…"

He trails off, looks at your implacable expression, and gulps. "No, please. I'd rather go do something else more useful with myself."

You make sure your suit is sealed properly, and get Dylan to explain what Roshan was having him do. It's a straightforward job: stripping some scrap from the Eleos's hull and replacing it with thin sheets of reinforced, alloyed shielding. It doesn't require any specialist knowledge other than which end of a power tool to use, and how not to fall off your own ship.

You nimbly pick your way over the hull to the scrap in question, detach it from its anchoring, and make sure it's secured before welding the new shielding into place. It's simple. You carry the scrap back to the maintenance airlock for Roshan to do her thing later.

Dylan's made himself scarce while you were out: at least today he's tidied his suit away neatly.

You're taking a breather, alone now, when Roshan calls.

"How's he doing?" he asks without preamble. "He's not fallen out the airlock or anything, has he?"

- Answer.

 

[Cartoonicat]

The work isn't particularly difficult, but I do find myself grateful for the breather. More than I realized, actually, for when Roshan calls I nearly tell him everything. It takes a sharp bite to the tongue to keep Dylan's secret safe. "He's fine," I lie, "just running a little behind today is all, what with everything that's been going on. How's it going over there?" I try hard to sound upbeat and positive as I change the subject, despite the thoughts swimming through my head:

With Dylan's limitations, what can he do productively? Who can pick up the slack, if not me? How can I keep this under wraps for Dylan's sake when I pride myself on being a trustworthy captain, on being honest?

And, if Dylan is afraid of space, how can I possibly keep him on as part of my crew?

 

[ArcticFox]

"Okay," Roshan says doubtfully. "Well. I'll get back to work. The sailship ain't fixing itself!"

--

A few more days pass, the sailship gets fixed, and Shiori helps the Children of the Nova heal from the acute radiation poisoning they'd exposed themselves to.

Victor's definitely still feeling sore about the delay, but you catch him eyeing Deacon's renewed vigour with a speculative glint in his eye, and later, one of the standard news-shots from De Rege Technologies announces they're pleased to be working with charities to develop water-based radiation shielding: easy to repair, Novae-friendly and with open-source designs. It's a big PR boost.

Finally Deacon announces they're ready to ride the winds alone: there's a shifting current that may take them out towards Jupiter and they want to try to catch it.

"You are a child of the Black as we are," he says firmly at the airlock, clasping your hands. His skin is warm and healthy, no longer papery-thin. "May the Black nurture your journey to oblivion. May It return your atoms to Sol. May It free you from sangsara and enrich Itself with your stardust."

- Answer.

 

[Cartoonicat]

Seeing Deacon's healthy glow swells my heart with pride, and the developments from De Rege Technologies is a confidence boost I'm not soon to forget. Kindness begets kindness, even in unlikely ways. They can't be too mad about the delay in schedule after that PR boost.

I smile at Deacon, giving his hands an affirmative squeeze despite not entirely believing in his ideology. Still, his kindness is to be admired. "Thank you," I tell him, unable to offer my own spiritual blessings, for I have none to give that he would accept as a Child of the Nova. Still, my next words are earnest: "The galaxy needs people like you and your crew, so travel safe."

 

[ArcticFox]

They say their final goodbyes and leave, their sailship detaches from the Eleos and goes on its passive, happy way.

You regularly go through the summary reports that Oscar prepares for you. This one is as thorough, if subjective, as ever:

Captain,

So far, we're on schedule, as if there was any doubt.

Re: food and medicine, we're consuming our supplies at the rate we calculated for.

Our fuel levels are exactly according to our projections, so no worries there.

Finally, Roshan wants you to be aware that the ship is in pretty good condition, and I thought I should mention that the crew are doing fine. I'll let you know if that changes.

--

It's day fifty-six and Eira has summoned you to the nest for an emergency communication.

It's been a quiet few weeks before now. Oscar's been working hard to keep everyone working together smoothly. Victor has been thawing out a little, joining Eira for breakfast and actually talking to you about the route ahead. Dylan has been keeping to himself down in the supply decks and has managed to avoid any major breakdowns.

- You were getting bored.
- You were enjoying the routine.
- You are worried about the emergency.

 

[Cartoonicat]

Despite the emergency, I don't feel particularly bothered. Perhaps I'd grown too comfortable with the routine of late, or perhaps I am enjoying what peace I have left before it potentially shatters. Regardless, I make my way to the nest at an almost leisurely pace, opting to munch on the last piece of candy from my sugar stash as I go.

 

[ArcticFox]

When you get to the nest, Eira nods to the door, gesturing for you to close it, and waits for you to settle in the chair next to her.

She's as flawlessly put-together as she always is, but there's a pin-scratch line between her brows and her painted lips are pursed with worry.

"Zyrina, you're needed on external comms."

She taps a couple of buttons and says, "I've got her, go ahead."

"Captain Zyrina Centrich, this is Tenente Leonor Halvorsen of the Trans-Planetary Enforcement and Security vessel XR-One. You have been instructed to go to the enclosed coordinates and search a derelict spacecraft, the Thorn Chaser for survivors. After searching the vessel you will power down and await the XR-One's arrival. Do you copy?"

- Agree.
- Say you are on a deadline.
- Tell them you won't do their work.
- Ask about the derelict ship.

 

[Cartoonicat]

"Captain Zyrina Centrich, here. I copy," I say, feeling a bit reserved. Normally I'd jump at the drop of a hat to rescue anyone in need, no questions asked, but this feels off, somehow. Why did the TPE-S need me to do their job?

"We'll head there, now. Please provide additional information on the Thorn Chaser and the people on board," I say. It's not a suggestion, but I'm not sure my tone is convincing. I've never been very authoritative, least of all intimidating.

 

[ArcticFox]

"No distress signals. Our long-range sensors picked up the ship, dark, no power readouts. The XR-One will be with you within forty-eight hours for a report and to collect any survivors you find. XR-One out." Tenente Halvorsen replies.

The line fizzles into static, Eira sighs and turns it off. "No one's going to like this delay, but if T-PES says we have to, we do. I get it."

- Answer.

 

[Cartoonicat]

"T-PES orders or not, you know me," I say after a pause, "we would have probably made the stop anyway." Perhaps T-PES was too far away and needed help in reaching survivors? I choose to believe that they cared more about getting to potential survivors quicker than having the Eleos do the work for them. Looking to the bright side, I offer Eira a slightly conspiratorial smile. "Only, this time we have an excuse Victor can't argue..." Though, absently, I wonder if he'll try.

 

[ArcticFox]

Halvorsen may be moody and terse, but she's obviously busy. They do good work.

Eira starts altering course towards the coordinates of the Thorn Chaser. "I know we're not supposed to do anything like salvage a derelict ship in these circumstances," she says, "but… are we going to? And I know we should do what T-PES says, but if we follow their regs then start ahead on the journey we can probably get away with it."

The more you want to achieve on the ship, the longer you'll have to linger. It will slow you down. Of course, if you're going to stay by the derelict until T-PES arrives you'll be delayed anyway.

You don't have to decide now: you have some time before you reach the Thorn Chaser.

"You go prep the others, I'll get us to the derelict," says Eira, refocusing her attention to her console. It's close to noon, so you'd expect your crew to be converging in the galley for lunch;. You haven't gone ten meters down the main corridor when Victor ambushes you, leaning insouciantly against the bulkhead.

"You're changing course to the Thorn Chaser, I assume?" he asks lightly. He might sound like he doesn't care, but his shoulders are tense, and his suit is ruffled, as if he's hurried up here.

- Answer.

 

[Cartoonicat]

"We... will see," I say tentatively, not wanting to commit to anything just yet. I haven't seen the derelict ship, haven't found any survivors, and am wary of the T-PES. Though knowing myself, the answer will probably be 'yes' in the end, so I'm not sure why I'm trying to be cautious, now.

Maybe for appearance's sake, since the T-PES is involved. Or perhaps not to let word reach Victor preemptively, lest he complain the whole way and find enough fault to report back to De Rege Technologies. Or worse, whatever that may be. Overall, that's a headache I'd like to avoid for as long as possible.

"On it," I tell Eira, patting her shoulder absently as I leave. I'm not sure why I do it, though I've always been a tactile person. Perhaps it's to reassure her that things are going to go well, or at the very least okay, or perhaps I need the reassurance myself. I like to believe T-PES isn't as corrupt as the rumors lend them to be, but dealing with them sets me on edge just a bit. Victor's orders I can ignore; the T-PES I can't.

Unless I'm sneaky, but I've never been that much of a liar.

Stepping into the hallway, I'm bombarded by the headache I was hoping to avoid. Though... one look at him makes me wonder how much of a headache I may be to him, in return. I hope his ruffled state isn't because of me, but I have a feeling that's wishful thinking. "Yes," I tell him, eyes roaming the imperfections. I lift a brow, "Are you alright, Victor?"

 

[ArcticFox]

"Good, as you should," Victor says in a honeyed, mollifying tone. "T-PES is giving you an order, and what's more, it's your duty to help your comrades in the Black. You have my full support, and any assistance I can give, say the word and I'm there."

You have no idea what side of the bed Victor woke up on today, but it's a refreshing change. Perhaps Eira has managed to convince him to ease up on you? Regardless, he seems to think that's enough: Victor is already slipping away. You'll have to shelve this question for now.

You feel the Eleos rumbling beneath your feet as it changes course towards the Thorn Chaser. You carry out the prep you need: Roshan checking over your suit, Oscar waking up from his shift's sleep pattern and blearily drinking coffee while reading through the Thorn Chaser's entry in the Shipping Lanes' database.

What will you do on the Thorn Chaser?

- Only what T-PES orders.
- Do as told, but also look for some salvage.
- Do as told, but try to find out why the ship is derelict.
- Pick the ship clean: find survivors, salvage and info.

 

[Cartoonicat]

That is not what I expected, but I'll take his support, no matter how out of character it seems for the man with a seemingly endless supply of complaints. Maybe Eira got through to him, somehow. Maybe...

I watch the way he walks away, curious to whether he stumbles or sways or so much as gives any indication that he may have had a drink or two for lunch. When I don't notice anything I hum thoughtfully. Maybe he's just in a good mood and I never witnessed it before.

It's quite nice, actually, when he's agreeable. Less stressful.

I use that encounter as motivation to get everything done on preparation for meeting the Thorn Chaser and, when it comes time to decide what duties we'll perform, I know exactly what to choose.

Just as Eira had inquired, I'm going to look for survivors, try to salvage the ship, and figure out what went wrong—the latter to satisfy my own curiosity.

 

[ArcticFox]

It takes you a few hours to come up to the Thorn Chaser, and you have a few minutes to examine it before you actually dock. It's a different model to the Eleos: a few years younger, a little more valuable in its raw materials but somewhat slower. Its silhouette certainly pales in comparison to the Eleos, all blocky, ugly lines and engines sticking out like lumps at the back of the ship.

The engines are dark, and Eira sends through the report from external scans: no power, save for minimal readings that could just be bleed in the systems, no obvious signs of damage on the outside. No gravity, no air, no heat, so any survivors would have to be in their suits. The airlock shows no sign of being forced, which means they weren't boarded aggressively - or they were boarded by perfectionists who did so without leaving a scratch - and also means you can dock easily.

Shiori waits at the airlock with you, a comprehensive first aid kit packed and slung over her shoulder. Oscar stands next to her but is engrossed in his personal computer - ready for finding out anything he can on the Thorn Chaser, at least. Roshan bounces on the heels of his suit's magnetic boots with a toolkit and a sled by his side. You've been extra-prepared and decided to bring something with you:

- More medical supplies.
- A toolkit.
- Ropes, anchor, survival gear.
- A scanner and recording equipment.

 

[Cartoonicat]

Extra medical supplies can't hurt, but my gut tells me to grab survival gear, instead. We don't yet know the severity of the situation inside and with no power, anything could happen. I'd hate to get stuck in a situation where ropes or an anchor would be useful yet have nothing but sterile cloths and antiseptic on hand.

Looking at my team, I give a thumbs up. It's time to go.

 

[ArcticFox]

You're no expert like Shiori but at least you can be an assistant, and at the very least a mule for her equipment. The Eleos shudders as it connects with the Thorn Chaser, and Eira comms you that the airlocks have locked onto each other. You watch the lights blink amber, red, amber, red as the pressure is equalised, and then it goes green.

You head into the airlock and into the Thorn Chaser, and even with the magnets in your boots activated you can feel when you lose gravity by the way your whole body shifts in the suit, the crown of your head brushing against the underside of your helmet, your shoulders feeling oddly cramped.

The ship is dark, Your flashlights cut bright swaths through dusty air showing featureless walls, empty corridors, no bodies for now.

"I hate working in no-gravity," Shiori mutters, clutching her first aid kit close to their chest.

"Should've tried growing up poor and in space, then. I'm fine," Roshan says with a derisive snort, and launches himself and his sled into the corridor with stunning grace. He waves back at you. "Heading to engineering. See you later!"

"You'll be okay, Shiori," Oscar says softly. "Just stick close to the Captain and she will look after you. Zyrina, I'll go to the Captain's cabins and try to find their records."

When he moves, it's not particularly graceful, but you could never call him incompetent. He lumbers down the corridor in a lopsided rhythm until he's out of view.

You stick with Shiori, and together you sweep the ship while heading to their medical bay, where - presumably - survivors of any specific calamity would be hiding.

It's so quiet and so still: no engines rumbling, no whirr of ventilation or energy systems, no vibrations under your feet. You can hear your own heartbeat, the clump of your magnetic boots against metal, and Shiori's quiet, careful breaths.

"Did they just abandon their ship?" Shiori asks quietly. "Everything feels so… final."

- Answer.

 

[Cartoonicat]

"I agree with you," I tell Shiori after bidding our teammates well and going separate ways, finding the lack of gravity discomfiting. While those from Venus seemed to age slower and could jump a little higher than people on Earth, her planet wasn't far off from Earth's level of gravity. Being stuck in a suit while her body tried to float away felt weird.

The ship feels desolate, empty as space itself in a way, and a bad feeling crawls up my spine. "It seems so," I tell her, "but why? And who picked them up, if not T-PES, without at least someone reporting in about abandoning ship?" Granted, I'd be mortified and embarrassed on a whole new level if I had to abandon the Eleos for whatever reason, but I'd certainly report it for records' sake. "Are they planning to come back, I wonder?"

 

[ArcticFox]

Shiori hums to herself quietly. "I was on one ship before the Eleos. We had to check out a distress signal on T-PES orders, and it turned out they'd had a scrubber malfunction. Everyone was dead of suffocation from carbon monoxide, just because they'd skimped on automated internal alarms."

She pauses so you can head first through a hatchway, clutching her medical kit tighter.

"Twelve crew. A couple of them had tried to fix the scrubbers but everyone else had just gone to bed and died there. The ship was so peaceful. Dead. I dream about it sometimes."

You reach the medbay and it's as dark and quiet and empty as the rest of the ship.

Shiori laughs bitterly under her breath. "Should we be grateful? Or is this even stranger?" she mutters. She sticks her medical kit to the wall with its magnetic strap and lumbers over to the medbay cupboards, which lie open and disturbed. As you watch, a roll of bandages turns lazily through the cabin from Shiori bumping it with her shoulder.

With no power, you can't check the medbay systems, but the way it's been left - cupboards ransacked, everything shut down - can still tell you something.

Shiori shakes her head. "They've taken the opiates, they've taken the platinum-laced antibiotic bandages and the automated shunt and the barium solution but they didn't take plain old antibiotics? Or medicine for nausea? This doesn't make any sense."

She locks her heels on the floor and folds her arms around the bulky suit. "What in the Black is happening here?" asks Shiori. "What do you think it could be?"

- The crew left the ship by choice and took the supplies.
- The crew were removed by forces and the supplies were stolen.
- It doesn't matter.