idiot
𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥.
01://THE ARRIVAL.
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- home (filler tab)
status of crew
Jordan Chapman - flight deck, healthy.
Valentine Lacasa - bridge, healthy.
Griff Pritchard - lounge, healthy.
Beau Miller - lounge, healthy.
Pauline Monroe - quarters, healthy.
Ryo Yeon-Woo - flight deck, healthy.
Sammy Clayton - med-bay, healthy.
Meghan Reeves (AKA Elizabeth Lodge) - unknown, healthy.
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location
The SS-Azael's lounge.
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interactions
The entire crew:
Elucid
Lekiel
celadon.
sappho_
-ferret-
riseofrosetico
BakedBeansIsGood
JustSomeDood
Sepokku
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tags
All .
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- home (filler tab)
karl casey
hacker
://VALENTINE_LACASA_
Space was something she would never grow tired of.
Valentine stared out the 10-foot main bridge window, a harmonious melody of blue, yellow and pink hues melded into the expansive stretch of darkness. The same stars gleamed, harkening back to her time on Earth; staring out a much smaller window, praying upon each one that someone would save her. No one did.
Things were different now. Valentine had a family, not by blood but by respect and compassion. Once she finished this job she could return to them but for now she didn't mind most of the people she had been bunking with for the past week.
Well except for—
"Beau." His name still felt unpleasant on her tongue. "Care to explain what you are doing on the main bridge?" Valentine pushed the old-school headphones around her slender neck, swivelling her chair towards the stowaway.
"Well, this was the only part of the ship I had not seen, darling." Beau seemed to have decided he would be using his faux Southern accent today and that smirk of his.
See, Valentine hadn't trusted the supposed bartender the moment they found him tucked away in the storage hull, hands clutching a knife buried in his stomach. Part of her believed he deserved it. Since then, he has subjected the crew to his incessant stories that were way too far-fetched.
"There was a reason for that." Valentine flicked her hand around the room, gesturing to the likes of Lily, the pilot, and Carin, the chief of security. Oh, Carin. Valentine could stare at her all day—well she mostly did. The woman's glowing skin and downturned lips had drawn her in from the start. Valentine made it no secret she liked the demanding woman but knew she didn't have enough time to crack her hard exterior. "You need clearance."
"Why is he allowed in here then?" Beau complained like the overgrown child he is, thumbing towards a quiet man in the corner. "He's a scientist—right? Why does he have clearance, then?" Valentine had forgotten Sam was in here, he never really spoke, the only sound she heard was the rhythmic clicking of the keyboard. Sam didn't seem to take note.
"MHC didn't hire a computer specialist for some reason but a bunch of scientists who can't really do any sciencey things right now." Valentine found it odd they brought upon a few scientists, not that she was complaining as they all were easy on the eyes. "So, he offered to help out—isn't that nice?" Maybe Beau could take a page from Sam's book as the man had barely helped out since they found him.
He should be pulling his weight, Valentine was surprised Chapman hadn't thrown him overboard yet.
"Help? Surely my presence is—" Beau's words cut out abruptly and Valentine couldn't believe he actually stopped talking. In fact, Valentine thought she had gone deaf but as she followed the gape-mouthed man's gaze to the bridge window she realised why.
Holy shit, there it is.
A monstrous colony ship was within the distance. The MHS-Desdemona. About bloody time.
“Wait...” Valentine squinted out the bridge window, enamoured by what she saw. She had never seen anything like this before. Dozens of tethers snaked down from under the Desdemona, piercing the surface of a planet chunk that mirrored the size of the colony ship. Yet, everything remained in place, as though frozen in time. Below a planet was in view, a gigantic crater present; Valentine assumed that was where it came from…but how?
“They are gravity tethers,” Sam's voice began, as though reading her mind. “Planet cracking they call it. Attaching the tethers to a planet, it is capable of literally ripping a chunk of the planet into orbit.”
“Okay, but why?” Valentine twirled her seat in Sam's direction, thick brow raised. "And why isn’t the ship being dragged down?” The colony ship sat unmoving, as though frozen in time.
“Planet cracking is mainly used to mine valuable resources from the comfort of one’s ship.” Valentine was surprised how much Sam knew—she knew he was from Earth and he wasn't exactly an engineer. Sam must of read the surprise on her face. "Oh, I've had a bit of time on my hands as of late, found myself reading about some of the latest technological advancements in space. It is pretty cool stuff." A small smile spread across Sam's face. Valentine had forgot he was a nerd, smiling herself. Sam's cheeks flushed red as he continued. "The gravity tethers can then target a specific area and extract the sample into the ship’s mining deck. So, the ship is equipped with a high-tech gravity centrifuge which keeps the ship stable.”
Interesting, Valentine thought, but that means…
“The gravity centrifuge thing-o is still active then,” Valentine noted.
"Yes—"
“Seems you aren't just a pretty face. So tell me computer whiz, that means the crew didn’t plummet to their death at least? Could of called it a day if they did." Beau scoffed and Valentine couldn't help but roll her eyes. He really seemed to just care for himself.
Having her maximum dose of Beau, Valentine spun back around to the console. Adjusting her comms headset back onto her bouncy mane, "Yeon-Woo could you kindly come escort Miller from the main bridge. Thank you."
"You didn't." Beau huffed. "Whatever, I'm leaving. I'll go talk to someone who appreciates my company." Walking away as though he had a choice, Valentine giggled to herself.
“That's better.” A sigh of relief. "Now, lets get this started." Valentine pressed a few buttons before she spoke.
“MHS-Desdemona, this is the SS-Azael, we are requesting entrance aboard the flight deck.” Valentine’s methodical, customer-service voice rung in everyone’s MHC-branded earpieces; specifically aimed at Desdemona’s crew.
Silence.
“Do you read me, Desdemona?”
Dead silence.
://JORDAN_CHAPMAN_
Capable fingers clutched the simplistic, gold band; suspended around her neck by a thin chain. The inner etching caught the fluorescent light. Para mi amor.
She would make it right.
Jordan splashed water on her face, staring back at the unimpressed reflection. Pain shot through her leg, the relatively fresh bullet wound tormenting her. A constant reminder of her failure.
Ignoring the pain, Jordan stepped into her quarters. The room was barely touched, sheet's taut and cornered against the thin mattress. An entire week she had spent in this room and nothing to show for it — apart from the lone blazer, neatly folded on the bed's edge.
Checking her watch, she surmised she had given the crew sufficient time to meet in the lounge. Lacasa's attempt at hailing the Desdemona had proven redundant. Regardless, they would board but first a little debrief was needed for Chapman's ragtag group. Not that I know much of anything. The Melton-Hisano Corp had been rather tight-lipped about the entire mission.
Chapman tucked the chain into her shirt, the mechanical door churning open.
://VALENTINE_LACASA_
Valentine's scuffed heeled-boots rested on the lounge's centre table. A cherry-flavoured lollipop settled between her plump lips. Her sultry gaze landed on Beau once more, spooning nutrient paste into his big mouth.
"My, my, this is heavenly, Paula." The stowaway sent a wink towards the older woman. Valentine held back her audible gag. That man is a total sleaze. Not that he was wrong, Paula made Valentine wish she was aboard her family's ship. Masking the horrid, bland taste of nutrient paste was a feat not many could achieve.
"A little southern hospitality and spices go a long way." Words intertwined with a thick accent, Paula smiled as murmurs of agreement followed. Her own varnished, wooden hand spooned the paste towards her weathered face.
"You should eat up dearie, you need some meat on those bones." Paula lectured, her small eyes narrowing on Valentine's long, slender legs perched on the table. Raising a manicured brow, Valentine considered her words carefully but was beaten by a stuttering Griff.
"I-I think you look...good, V-Valentine..." Heads turned towards the representative, thick glasses made his beady eyes appear larger, blinking nervously. Most of the crew seemed to not like the presence of Griff — especially considering he was basically here to bust their balls. Yet, Valentine found him endearing in his own way. Beau slapped his knee, barking out a laugh.
"Oh lover-boy has a crush, ain't that sweet," Beau mocked him, "a shame she can't gawking at Ms Hard-ass. No offence, darling." Sending a thumb and cocky grin win Carin's direction. She would break that thumb in a second. Despite looking older than most on this ship, he was a literal child.
"Shut up, you misogynist asshole." A small yet defiant voice came from the pink-haired medic, piercings covering her face and ears. Apparently she was a medical student who offered to attend for less pay and some first-hand experience. I guess you got to start somewhere.
"Someone seems a little jealous that no one but Paula has been enamoured by your shitty charm." Tongue sharp and wit even sharper, Valentine teased Beau, a smirk dancing across her lips.
Beau scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Might need some medical attention after that burn, care to help me nurse?" A suggestive look in Eunji's direction, his 'Southern' accent faltering. Who even said that anymore?
"Does MHC have any legal rules around spacing a crew member, Griff?" Valentine quipped back, trying to save Eunji from the sleaze's advances.
"Oh...uh." As though taking it seriously, Griff seemed to think hard. "Uh, n-no. I don't think there is any specific outlines regarding—" The scattered chuckling must of made Griff understand it was a joke, nervously laughing along with them. Bless his heart, Valentine thought.
The man-child had no time to respond as the all-too-familiar footsteps echoed throughout the SS-Azael's hallway.
Any conversations ceased, silence filling the room. All Valentine could hear was Griff's audible gulp.
Chapman had that effect on people.
://BEAU_MILLER_
Beau felt restricted in the too-small shirt Anatolie had donated him. He had opted to keep his dusty blue jeans and sneakers, his eyes flicking to the red specks on them. He had tirelessly attempted to clean them but to no avail. Not many knew but Beau carefully curated his attire and took pride in what he wore but the crew didn't exactly catch him at his best. Though on cue, his stitches tormented him, a constant reminder of the stabbing. That bitch got me good.
Chapman's formidable steps stopped as she entered the lounge. A bland but...respectable wardrobe adorned her solid figure and Beau noted her cream-coloured coat looked expensive. Who knew the Captain had taste.
"I'm only going to say this once." The imposing woman purposefully paced in front of the crew scattered around the SS-Azael's lounge. The artificial light was harsh and coupled with the unpleasant yellow accents made it obvious it was an older model of Melton-Hisano Corp's world-renowned spaceships.
"You are all under my watch." Words cut with unwavering authority, it was crystal clear Chapman was a woman of little patience. "What I say is final—"
A single hand rose from the crowd; belonging to the meek Griff, who wore a wrinkled suit that was two-sizes too big for him. Beau considered cutting him some slack and teaching him a thing or two about tailoring after this but would raise too many questions for his liking.
Griff's mouth parted, ready to spout some of his usual corporation drivel. Thankfully, a menacing icy-glare from Chapman shut the walking, talking rulebook up.
"As I was saying." Chapman continued. "I was hired to keep you all alive. That is only possible if you all listen to everything I say." Jordan punctured every word, voice stern.
"Sorry to interrupted, Captain. If you don't mind me asking—" Sammy's voice was low and lacked the same confidence of their superior. "What exactly is the mission? I mean, I understand we are to find out the Desdemona's status...but why send us scientists?" Sammy was referring to himself and the other scientifically-inclined crew members. "If I remember reading the crew manifest correctly, we were even meant to have a psychologist on board?" A psychologist. That rung a bell.
My name is Helena. Now are you buying me a drink or not? Beau recalled her mousy-brown hair tucked away from her face. He also recalled buying her that drink.
"To be frank, I have no idea." Chapman admitted but didn't falter. "As for Dr Straka, she was not present for boarding." In the corner of his eye he watched the cute blonde medical assistant scribble something down. What was she writing? He could tell the faded-pink ends were home-dyed and her clothing was stylistically ripped, or at least he hoped. Seems like MHC let any riff-raff aboard.
"Well, what about you, Suits?" Beau turned his attention to Griff, whose blue eyes went wide. "You bloody work for them, you must know why they sent your lovely crew members over their own lackeys?" It took Griff a moment to respond, as though collecting his thoughts. Beau couldn't help but take pleasure as he squirmed. He had integrated himself into the crew somewhat, which was the plan of course.
"Oh, uh...well, at MHC, safety is very important to us!" Griff smiled nervously, "the MHS-Desdemona is one of our more...confidential expeditions. Regardless, these workers are our family and we wanted the very best for them, which is you guys! Uh, well not you, Mr Miller, you weren't meant to be aboard." Was that a jab he heard? Beau was impressed Griff had it in him. "We like to be prepared here at MHC, this could merely be a communication failure or..." He trailed off, following with a mere whisper.
"...Mutiny."
"In other words, MHC is covering their own asses from another scandal." Valentine sat up in the metal chair, adjusting the cherry lollipop in her mouth. Griff had no response, growing smaller in his chair by the second. Beau recalled watching the news that day, one of MHC's flagships randomly combusting and killing all the crew. I mean that would make their job easy if that happened to the Desdemona too.
"Enough." Chapman said coldly, silence filling the room. "We are to board the Desdemona within the hour. I will be leading a search-and-rescue team, which will consist of Yeon-Woo, Cambret and Keynes." Beau had forgotten about Yeon-Woo. He scanned the room, finding the battle-scarred woman near the exit. She had barely spoken this entire time aboard the ship and Beau would be lying if he didn't say she shared the shit out of him.
As for Cambret, Beau's gaze lingered on the rather rugged man. He had been tempted to ask him for a cigarette during the late nights but he surmised the answer he'd get in return.
Keyes was a different story. He hadn't really spoken to the man since being found aboard but had watched him closely. Close enough to realise the two of them were more alike than he thought.
"Before I hear any back talk, Packard, I need you stay aboard in case the crew are placed in harms way. You will join Lacasa and Rhorer in the bridge." Chapman left no room for debate.
"In case of injured civilians, I want Kang and Schulz accompanying us. Along with Ignatiev and Leibe who will be responsible for fixing the communication system and checking if the air is breathable aboard the Desdemona." Beau hoped it was, he was feeling claustrophobic and wouldn't mind a bit of extra breathing room.
"If your name was called, I want you suited up and ready to leave in the coming hour. Everyone else will remain on board until we find out what is the Desdemona's status." Without another word, Chapman turned, ready to disappear once more.
"What about me, Captain?" Chapman swivelled around on her heels, the question's source was from the young blonde once more. Oh this will be good, Beau thought.
"What about you, Lodge?" Chapman's eyes cold and challenging.
"I'm part of the medical team too, they will need me." The blonde complained. Beau could hear a crack of fear in her words. Her youthful skin glowed in the harsh lighting, a bead of sweat on her temple. Someone's a little nervous.
"Lodge you are to remain on board unless your assistance is needed. You may to tend to whatever whims you wish, as long as it is aboard this ship." Chapman seemingly didn't wait for a response, the mechanical door opening at her presence. "Everyone is dismissed."
Beau hoped this was a simple case of a broken communication system and they could finally board some space station and let him be on his way. He knew he was starting to crack and the messages on the sparkly-pink phone continued to pile up.
The red flecks on his shoes haunted him as the phone buzzed.
Space was something she would never grow tired of.
Valentine stared out the 10-foot main bridge window, a harmonious melody of blue, yellow and pink hues melded into the expansive stretch of darkness. The same stars gleamed, harkening back to her time on Earth; staring out a much smaller window, praying upon each one that someone would save her. No one did.
Things were different now. Valentine had a family, not by blood but by respect and compassion. Once she finished this job she could return to them but for now she didn't mind most of the people she had been bunking with for the past week.
Well except for—
"Beau." His name still felt unpleasant on her tongue. "Care to explain what you are doing on the main bridge?" Valentine pushed the old-school headphones around her slender neck, swivelling her chair towards the stowaway.
"Well, this was the only part of the ship I had not seen, darling." Beau seemed to have decided he would be using his faux Southern accent today and that smirk of his.
See, Valentine hadn't trusted the supposed bartender the moment they found him tucked away in the storage hull, hands clutching a knife buried in his stomach. Part of her believed he deserved it. Since then, he has subjected the crew to his incessant stories that were way too far-fetched.
"There was a reason for that." Valentine flicked her hand around the room, gesturing to the likes of Lily, the pilot, and Carin, the chief of security. Oh, Carin. Valentine could stare at her all day—well she mostly did. The woman's glowing skin and downturned lips had drawn her in from the start. Valentine made it no secret she liked the demanding woman but knew she didn't have enough time to crack her hard exterior. "You need clearance."
"Why is he allowed in here then?" Beau complained like the overgrown child he is, thumbing towards a quiet man in the corner. "He's a scientist—right? Why does he have clearance, then?" Valentine had forgotten Sam was in here, he never really spoke, the only sound she heard was the rhythmic clicking of the keyboard. Sam didn't seem to take note.
"MHC didn't hire a computer specialist for some reason but a bunch of scientists who can't really do any sciencey things right now." Valentine found it odd they brought upon a few scientists, not that she was complaining as they all were easy on the eyes. "So, he offered to help out—isn't that nice?" Maybe Beau could take a page from Sam's book as the man had barely helped out since they found him.
He should be pulling his weight, Valentine was surprised Chapman hadn't thrown him overboard yet.
"Help? Surely my presence is—" Beau's words cut out abruptly and Valentine couldn't believe he actually stopped talking. In fact, Valentine thought she had gone deaf but as she followed the gape-mouthed man's gaze to the bridge window she realised why.
Holy shit, there it is.
A monstrous colony ship was within the distance. The MHS-Desdemona. About bloody time.
“Wait...” Valentine squinted out the bridge window, enamoured by what she saw. She had never seen anything like this before. Dozens of tethers snaked down from under the Desdemona, piercing the surface of a planet chunk that mirrored the size of the colony ship. Yet, everything remained in place, as though frozen in time. Below a planet was in view, a gigantic crater present; Valentine assumed that was where it came from…but how?
“They are gravity tethers,” Sam's voice began, as though reading her mind. “Planet cracking they call it. Attaching the tethers to a planet, it is capable of literally ripping a chunk of the planet into orbit.”
“Okay, but why?” Valentine twirled her seat in Sam's direction, thick brow raised. "And why isn’t the ship being dragged down?” The colony ship sat unmoving, as though frozen in time.
“Planet cracking is mainly used to mine valuable resources from the comfort of one’s ship.” Valentine was surprised how much Sam knew—she knew he was from Earth and he wasn't exactly an engineer. Sam must of read the surprise on her face. "Oh, I've had a bit of time on my hands as of late, found myself reading about some of the latest technological advancements in space. It is pretty cool stuff." A small smile spread across Sam's face. Valentine had forgot he was a nerd, smiling herself. Sam's cheeks flushed red as he continued. "The gravity tethers can then target a specific area and extract the sample into the ship’s mining deck. So, the ship is equipped with a high-tech gravity centrifuge which keeps the ship stable.”
Interesting, Valentine thought, but that means…
“The gravity centrifuge thing-o is still active then,” Valentine noted.
"Yes—"
“Seems you aren't just a pretty face. So tell me computer whiz, that means the crew didn’t plummet to their death at least? Could of called it a day if they did." Beau scoffed and Valentine couldn't help but roll her eyes. He really seemed to just care for himself.
Having her maximum dose of Beau, Valentine spun back around to the console. Adjusting her comms headset back onto her bouncy mane, "Yeon-Woo could you kindly come escort Miller from the main bridge. Thank you."
"You didn't." Beau huffed. "Whatever, I'm leaving. I'll go talk to someone who appreciates my company." Walking away as though he had a choice, Valentine giggled to herself.
“That's better.” A sigh of relief. "Now, lets get this started." Valentine pressed a few buttons before she spoke.
“MHS-Desdemona, this is the SS-Azael, we are requesting entrance aboard the flight deck.” Valentine’s methodical, customer-service voice rung in everyone’s MHC-branded earpieces; specifically aimed at Desdemona’s crew.
Silence.
“Do you read me, Desdemona?”
Dead silence.
://JORDAN_CHAPMAN_
Capable fingers clutched the simplistic, gold band; suspended around her neck by a thin chain. The inner etching caught the fluorescent light. Para mi amor.
She would make it right.
Jordan splashed water on her face, staring back at the unimpressed reflection. Pain shot through her leg, the relatively fresh bullet wound tormenting her. A constant reminder of her failure.
Ignoring the pain, Jordan stepped into her quarters. The room was barely touched, sheet's taut and cornered against the thin mattress. An entire week she had spent in this room and nothing to show for it — apart from the lone blazer, neatly folded on the bed's edge.
Checking her watch, she surmised she had given the crew sufficient time to meet in the lounge. Lacasa's attempt at hailing the Desdemona had proven redundant. Regardless, they would board but first a little debrief was needed for Chapman's ragtag group. Not that I know much of anything. The Melton-Hisano Corp had been rather tight-lipped about the entire mission.
Chapman tucked the chain into her shirt, the mechanical door churning open.
://VALENTINE_LACASA_
Valentine's scuffed heeled-boots rested on the lounge's centre table. A cherry-flavoured lollipop settled between her plump lips. Her sultry gaze landed on Beau once more, spooning nutrient paste into his big mouth.
"My, my, this is heavenly, Paula." The stowaway sent a wink towards the older woman. Valentine held back her audible gag. That man is a total sleaze. Not that he was wrong, Paula made Valentine wish she was aboard her family's ship. Masking the horrid, bland taste of nutrient paste was a feat not many could achieve.
"A little southern hospitality and spices go a long way." Words intertwined with a thick accent, Paula smiled as murmurs of agreement followed. Her own varnished, wooden hand spooned the paste towards her weathered face.
"You should eat up dearie, you need some meat on those bones." Paula lectured, her small eyes narrowing on Valentine's long, slender legs perched on the table. Raising a manicured brow, Valentine considered her words carefully but was beaten by a stuttering Griff.
"I-I think you look...good, V-Valentine..." Heads turned towards the representative, thick glasses made his beady eyes appear larger, blinking nervously. Most of the crew seemed to not like the presence of Griff — especially considering he was basically here to bust their balls. Yet, Valentine found him endearing in his own way. Beau slapped his knee, barking out a laugh.
"Oh lover-boy has a crush, ain't that sweet," Beau mocked him, "a shame she can't gawking at Ms Hard-ass. No offence, darling." Sending a thumb and cocky grin win Carin's direction. She would break that thumb in a second. Despite looking older than most on this ship, he was a literal child.
"Shut up, you misogynist asshole." A small yet defiant voice came from the pink-haired medic, piercings covering her face and ears. Apparently she was a medical student who offered to attend for less pay and some first-hand experience. I guess you got to start somewhere.
"Someone seems a little jealous that no one but Paula has been enamoured by your shitty charm." Tongue sharp and wit even sharper, Valentine teased Beau, a smirk dancing across her lips.
Beau scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Might need some medical attention after that burn, care to help me nurse?" A suggestive look in Eunji's direction, his 'Southern' accent faltering. Who even said that anymore?
"Does MHC have any legal rules around spacing a crew member, Griff?" Valentine quipped back, trying to save Eunji from the sleaze's advances.
"Oh...uh." As though taking it seriously, Griff seemed to think hard. "Uh, n-no. I don't think there is any specific outlines regarding—" The scattered chuckling must of made Griff understand it was a joke, nervously laughing along with them. Bless his heart, Valentine thought.
The man-child had no time to respond as the all-too-familiar footsteps echoed throughout the SS-Azael's hallway.
Any conversations ceased, silence filling the room. All Valentine could hear was Griff's audible gulp.
Chapman had that effect on people.
://BEAU_MILLER_
Beau felt restricted in the too-small shirt Anatolie had donated him. He had opted to keep his dusty blue jeans and sneakers, his eyes flicking to the red specks on them. He had tirelessly attempted to clean them but to no avail. Not many knew but Beau carefully curated his attire and took pride in what he wore but the crew didn't exactly catch him at his best. Though on cue, his stitches tormented him, a constant reminder of the stabbing. That bitch got me good.
Chapman's formidable steps stopped as she entered the lounge. A bland but...respectable wardrobe adorned her solid figure and Beau noted her cream-coloured coat looked expensive. Who knew the Captain had taste.
"I'm only going to say this once." The imposing woman purposefully paced in front of the crew scattered around the SS-Azael's lounge. The artificial light was harsh and coupled with the unpleasant yellow accents made it obvious it was an older model of Melton-Hisano Corp's world-renowned spaceships.
"You are all under my watch." Words cut with unwavering authority, it was crystal clear Chapman was a woman of little patience. "What I say is final—"
A single hand rose from the crowd; belonging to the meek Griff, who wore a wrinkled suit that was two-sizes too big for him. Beau considered cutting him some slack and teaching him a thing or two about tailoring after this but would raise too many questions for his liking.
Griff's mouth parted, ready to spout some of his usual corporation drivel. Thankfully, a menacing icy-glare from Chapman shut the walking, talking rulebook up.
"As I was saying." Chapman continued. "I was hired to keep you all alive. That is only possible if you all listen to everything I say." Jordan punctured every word, voice stern.
"Sorry to interrupted, Captain. If you don't mind me asking—" Sammy's voice was low and lacked the same confidence of their superior. "What exactly is the mission? I mean, I understand we are to find out the Desdemona's status...but why send us scientists?" Sammy was referring to himself and the other scientifically-inclined crew members. "If I remember reading the crew manifest correctly, we were even meant to have a psychologist on board?" A psychologist. That rung a bell.
My name is Helena. Now are you buying me a drink or not? Beau recalled her mousy-brown hair tucked away from her face. He also recalled buying her that drink.
"To be frank, I have no idea." Chapman admitted but didn't falter. "As for Dr Straka, she was not present for boarding." In the corner of his eye he watched the cute blonde medical assistant scribble something down. What was she writing? He could tell the faded-pink ends were home-dyed and her clothing was stylistically ripped, or at least he hoped. Seems like MHC let any riff-raff aboard.
"Well, what about you, Suits?" Beau turned his attention to Griff, whose blue eyes went wide. "You bloody work for them, you must know why they sent your lovely crew members over their own lackeys?" It took Griff a moment to respond, as though collecting his thoughts. Beau couldn't help but take pleasure as he squirmed. He had integrated himself into the crew somewhat, which was the plan of course.
"Oh, uh...well, at MHC, safety is very important to us!" Griff smiled nervously, "the MHS-Desdemona is one of our more...confidential expeditions. Regardless, these workers are our family and we wanted the very best for them, which is you guys! Uh, well not you, Mr Miller, you weren't meant to be aboard." Was that a jab he heard? Beau was impressed Griff had it in him. "We like to be prepared here at MHC, this could merely be a communication failure or..." He trailed off, following with a mere whisper.
"...Mutiny."
"In other words, MHC is covering their own asses from another scandal." Valentine sat up in the metal chair, adjusting the cherry lollipop in her mouth. Griff had no response, growing smaller in his chair by the second. Beau recalled watching the news that day, one of MHC's flagships randomly combusting and killing all the crew. I mean that would make their job easy if that happened to the Desdemona too.
"Enough." Chapman said coldly, silence filling the room. "We are to board the Desdemona within the hour. I will be leading a search-and-rescue team, which will consist of Yeon-Woo, Cambret and Keynes." Beau had forgotten about Yeon-Woo. He scanned the room, finding the battle-scarred woman near the exit. She had barely spoken this entire time aboard the ship and Beau would be lying if he didn't say she shared the shit out of him.
As for Cambret, Beau's gaze lingered on the rather rugged man. He had been tempted to ask him for a cigarette during the late nights but he surmised the answer he'd get in return.
Keyes was a different story. He hadn't really spoken to the man since being found aboard but had watched him closely. Close enough to realise the two of them were more alike than he thought.
"Before I hear any back talk, Packard, I need you stay aboard in case the crew are placed in harms way. You will join Lacasa and Rhorer in the bridge." Chapman left no room for debate.
"In case of injured civilians, I want Kang and Schulz accompanying us. Along with Ignatiev and Leibe who will be responsible for fixing the communication system and checking if the air is breathable aboard the Desdemona." Beau hoped it was, he was feeling claustrophobic and wouldn't mind a bit of extra breathing room.
"If your name was called, I want you suited up and ready to leave in the coming hour. Everyone else will remain on board until we find out what is the Desdemona's status." Without another word, Chapman turned, ready to disappear once more.
"What about me, Captain?" Chapman swivelled around on her heels, the question's source was from the young blonde once more. Oh this will be good, Beau thought.
"What about you, Lodge?" Chapman's eyes cold and challenging.
"I'm part of the medical team too, they will need me." The blonde complained. Beau could hear a crack of fear in her words. Her youthful skin glowed in the harsh lighting, a bead of sweat on her temple. Someone's a little nervous.
"Lodge you are to remain on board unless your assistance is needed. You may to tend to whatever whims you wish, as long as it is aboard this ship." Chapman seemingly didn't wait for a response, the mechanical door opening at her presence. "Everyone is dismissed."
Beau hoped this was a simple case of a broken communication system and they could finally board some space station and let him be on his way. He knew he was starting to crack and the messages on the sparkly-pink phone continued to pile up.
The red flecks on his shoes haunted him as the phone buzzed.
♡coded by uxie♡
