Chapter Text
Comms is dark when the two ‘crewmates’ enter. Soft whirs and clicks emanate from the various machines filling the room. Red isn't quite sure what all of them do but they're assuming they all have something to do with contacting the outside universe.
Something that they currently wish was still broken.
Maybe they should have killed Lime in their vent chase…
Maybe they should kill Lime now. Maybe actually killing someone will get rid of this constant aching they're feeling. Maybe that's why Green seems so happy, they're embracing what they're supposed to be…
The sudden brightness of the monitor in the dark room makes Red hiss, covering their visor. Blinking out the stars, their gaze turns to the figure on the screen.
It's Pink.
Head of MIRA Pink.
The most important Crewmate on Industria Pink.
Red's boss.
It's as if Red is dropped into ice water. They were already dreading talking to someone in middle management. They only actually talked to Pink once and…
The CEO definitely sees that their Captain's hat is askew and their uniform isn't properly ironed and their shaking and-
“Hello Pink! It's truly a pleasure to talk to you again after such a short amount of time! I brought the Captain just as you requested.” Orange smiles, giving the webcam above the screen a thumbs up.
The figure with an impeccably fitted suit glances up at Orange from whatever mysterious documents they were viewing before. Their visor has a weight to it's gaze, one that the Captain notices taking hold of Orange. The HR representative stands up a little straighter.
Finally, Pink speaks.
“Good work Orange,” They nod to the HR representative, who smiles even brighter than before. Then their attention turns to Red. “Greetings Captain. Orange has alerted me to some possible trouble on your vessel. Anything you wish to report?”
The Imposter squirms away from their scrutiny, feeling more like a bugmate being pinned within a frame than anything close to an equal. They really should not be scared of Pink, they have the equipment to make any Crewmate run in terror from them. However, just like with Purple, the lingering feelings of Red carry over.
They know Pink is a Crewmate to be taken seriously, to do any less would be to have your whole life destroyed by the stroke of a pen. Red is still in a very delicate position, both in the company and now with their added status as an alien Imposter. They at the very least need to attempt to get on MIRA’s good side here.
Ough they really really really do not want to tell Pink about the toxic waste levels of mess they have found themself in.
“...um. I… t-there have been a few… um, tiny accidents on board and. Okay, fine, three Crewmates are dead.” Might as well rip the bandaid off. The Captain swiftly removes their hat as a sign of respect.
“...I see,” Pink looks down at some paperwork on their desk. Their voice carries an air of nonchalance that absolutely should not be present. Red is telling them mates are dying on the crew and they're just- “I must say, I am surprised there have not been more murders.”
“What?” Air is pushed out of their non-existent lungs. Their veins feel as though they're freezing over. Is this what it would feel like to be amongst the stars? “I didn't… they were accidents-”
“I do not remember asking for your opinion on the matter. I am simply stating the facts.” The look that Pink gives Red makes them feel like they're dying again.
“The paperwork was done and sent over digitally on the murders, as well as the rest of the data!” Orange cheerfully cuts in.
What?
What in Industria is Orange talking about??
“Orange you reported this? I thought we both agreed they were accidents and and- wait. what other data?!” The Captain demands, tone switching between indignation and anxiety.
“The data on you Captain. Though, we can drop the pretenses now. You are not Captain Red.” The CEO states, finally staring them directly in the visor. It feels as if every part of Red's frankensteined soul is on display. They shiver before turning to their favorite coping mechanism: denial.
“Of course I am! What kind of joke is this? Who else would I be?!” The imposter begins laughing a little too loudly, barely stopping when neither of the others join in.
“An alien parasite from your shipment of Ore+ eggs.” Pink deadpans. Wow, they just said it out loud.
“I… I…” Red fumbles for words that wouldn't be damning but they already know. The sword of damocles inches closer to their neck. “...what would you do if I was?”
They're going to die again. Thrown to the cosmos- and absolutely demoted!!!
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“You are in a very interesting position here Captain. Judging by your obvious confusion, you have not read the manual in a while, am I correct?” Red's silence is enough of an answer, Pink barely gives them a second glance before continuing. “It is laid out in the Captain's manual, but I will be kind enough to explain the situation you have found yourself in. You are lucky that I have a few minutes before my shareholders meeting.”
“The situation of being an… an alien?” Their visor darts to Orange, who looks relatively unfazed by this information. They are certainly writing a lot down on their clipboard though. Maybe Red should try to get a peak at that later. Especially if it has data on them or whatever.
“Somewhat. You see, your shipment of Ore+ was an excuse to learn more about the alien contents of the fuel, an experiment if you will. Our goal was to provide the perfect control environment to observe newly hatched imposters such as yourself.”
It takes everything within Red to not leap at the screen to claw at the CEO. This whole time. This whole trip- everything was set up for failure. Red was set up to die.
All this time, they had deluded themself into thinking MIRA was ignorant of the situation, yet they were the ones to orchestrate it. Playing the Captain like a fiddle.
“The Asteroid Fields… you set the course through there on purpose?!”
“Indeed. It was the best opportunity to see imposters in action while not endangering the general population of any colonies. We here at MIRA believe that discovering the mysteries of what extraterrestrial life can hold is one of our most important projects.” The corporate talk, which they once thought was so professional, is beginning to sound like nails on a chalkboard.
“But- but you're burning the eggs! If learning about aliens is your goal, why all the secrecy? Why not tell everyone about us?” The furnace is still a possibility for them. They don't want that. They would hate to go out that way, it's worse than freezing in space.
“It is clear you have always lacked the vision for the bigger picture. Something that the average Crewmate lacks as well. MIRA is exploring all our options for upwards momentum. Fuel is one aspect of the Ore+ that has been profitable. Imposters may be an asset all of their own.”
There is a bigger elephantmate in the room.
“What about all the murders, you're just okay with that?!” Red is attempting to keep their voice even, yet judging by the screech that comes out of them, they fail at that too.
“We have already put the losses into our yearly deductible. You must understand, everyone on your ship was planned to be disposable.” Once again, Pink’s voice is frustratingly calm.
“Even White? And Orange? And…” Purple. Of course Purple is seen as expendable. Red should have known better. They should have known that having Purple- the whistleblower blacklisted by MIRA- return would have strings. They should have known! And now they're both in a floating deathtrap of Red's own making.
This is their fault.
“It seems some of White's family wished for them to be out of the way. Whatever reason, it was was reason enough to give MIRA quite the sizable bribe,” They wave off the question as if White's death didn't matter. Now, Red doesn't particularly care for most of the crew, in fact, they've wanted to kill multiple of them on multiple occasions now. Killing a Crewmate would be exhilarating, yet Pink talks about the death as if it's banal as the weather. All parts of Red are bothered by this. “As for Orange, they requested to be on this ship.”
“I am thrilled that my filed request was accepted! It is an honor to participate in such an important milestone in MIRA development!” The HR representative grins, giving a thumbs up to Pink and Red. Then they go back to writing on their stupid little clipboard of secrets.
The imposter stares in horror at Orange. Are they really so loyal to MIRA that they would die for it? Is that what Red was like? Is that still what Red is like? They died for MIRA after all…
It's like looking in a fun house mirror. They hate that. They hate Orange for making them see themself in them. They really hate Orange’s stupid clipboard.
Was Purple really right about them? Would they have been this much of a, well for lack of better words, ‘corporate bootlicker’ if they were still a Crewmate?
It's a terrifying hypothetical. Even more so that they can't come up with a concrete answer.
“You said I was in a unique position. What did you mean by that?” The Captain asks after a moment of unwanted self reflection.
“You may be an imposter, yet you have not killed a single Crewmate- before you ask another silly question, Orange has been taking notes on all of you and deduced you could not have committed the murders, correct?” Red nods mutely. “This is a first in our observations. Tell me, why is that?”
“I just haven't had a good opportunity to…” Insecurity about not committing murder really should not be what they are feeling currently. It's a bad look on all fronts.
“Yet that has not stopped imposters before. Your self control is astounding. You may still have a place in this company despite your biological status.” Compliments are almost unheard of from Pink. Seeing Pink smile seems like a tell tale in action. Red didn't even know Pink possessed the muscles to smile!
“Really?” A feeling they haven't personally felt before, but Red used to, begins worming its way into their heart: Hope. Maybe there's a way out for them that doesn't require dying in space. Maybe they can actually live- really live, not just pretend to in a metal coffin.
“Your loyalty to MIRA combined with your self control will make you very valuable to the company. Perhaps Admiral would be a more fitting title.” The CEO hums, still smiling. Admiral… that's even better than a Captain, even higher than what they were dreaming.
Suddenly, the future looks brighter than they ever thought possible. They can live! They're not demoted!
Wait until Purple hears this!
Swept up in the excitement, they hit a mental rock in the stream. The others. Red may be safe but… Green will absolutely not care about this development. They're having too much fun killing the others. That's going to be a problem.
“...what about everyone else? I could stop the other imposter-” They try to sound confident that they in fact could.
“No need. We will dispose of them once we have all the data we can gather on them.” Pink hums, checking their watch.
Oh.
So everyone- Purple- is marked for death. Red may be the only one leaving this ship. They… they realize that they're probably an ‘asset’ because of what they can provide. More death. That's what MIRA is investigating.
Red looks down at their feet before reaching in their backpack for the Captain's manual. They grip the book in their shaking hands, flipping through it, they find the section on aliens. Perfectly formatted text greets them along with a helpful diagram of one of their species.
Aliens are real and they like to kill.
Is this all Red is? Just a husk of a captain being piloted by an innate killer?
If they take this deal… sure, they'll live, hell, they'll even be promoted. Yet they know deep down that if MIRA is aware of murderous aliens yet still observes them, all they'll be seen as is an assassin.
A means to an end trudging an endlessly bloody path.
Part of them wants that. To be set loose on the world that would have rather burned them in a furnace to fuel their empire than let them exist as they are.
Their eternal itch, their lust for blood, may finally be sated.
Yet…
They also want more than that.
Red wants all of it, big things, little things. They want to go to a beach, feel the sand under their feet, hear the waves rushing. They want to find a hobby or skill that can help define them. They want to feel secure and safe and-
They want warm hands in their own, laughing in a sunlit kitchen, staring into their visor and seeing more than their reflection.
Is that selfish?
They don't know.
Red never got to truly do any of it. They wasted their time climbing a ladder to a meat grinder, and happily threw themself in.
Looking down at the book, their claws begin to dig into the soft paper. The image of an imposter skewering a helpless Crewmate stares back at them. This is what the world- what MIRA sees them as.
Their visor begins to burn as they feel their teeth sharpen.
Red died for MIRA. Now they're trying to put them on a leash as an attack dogmate? How dare they.
How DARE they.
“So you just want me to sit back and let everyone here die?” Red grits out. They feel like a time bomb.
“Yes. Once the data arrives we will have further discussions on your promoti-” Pink unintentionally lights the fuse.
“That's bullshit!” Red explodes, not caring how they look right now.
“Excuse me?” Finally, a genuine reaction plays out on Pink’s face, pure indignace.
“You heard me!” Red hisses, feeling their true body begin to shift out of their suit. “You're going to turn me into a weapon! Just something you can use, this isn't a promotion!”
“I can see you are getting emotional. Perhaps we can resume this talk-”
“No! No no no NO NO!” The imposter screeches, rage easier to hold onto than grief. “I am a person! I am a person and your experiment killed me! It killed me! Take some fucking responsibility for that!”
“...by all our accounts, you are not,” Pink finally drops the charade of benevolence, cooly staring at Red's growing form. “So you will either be fuel or a weapon. Make your decision soon or it will be made for you.”
The screen turns black. The word disconnected fuels the flame inside the imposter to an inferno.
One of their tendrils snaps the spine of the Captain's manual while the others begin smashing equipment, making sure there will be no more calls. The metal and plastic quickly shatter under their force, and Red attempts to not think about what would happen if that force was applied to a living being.
However…
Speaking of living beings…
A small shuffling sound gains their attention.
Orange is caught attempting to sneak out of the room, one foot already out of the door.
The two of them just stare at each other.
Red doesn't even want to think about what they look like right now. They don't really want to think right now at all. So they don't.
Silence grows into daggers as they stand in stalemate.
Then, ever so gently, Orange takes another step backwards.
Red snarls, snapping both of them into action. One runs, the other chases.
The HR representative bolts into storage, attempting not to slam into the boxes of Ore+ while rushing for the door to the cafeteria.
The Crewmate is not faster than the imposter, however, they are much more coordinated. Red rams into a few walls while trying to snatch Orange.
They can barely feel the minor bruises, too absorbed in the thrill of the hunt to care.
Both of them race into the cafeteria, Orange's hand only an inch away from the emergency button before Red finally grabs them, slamming them against a nearby wall.
Orange struggles uselessly, tugging at the tendril with pathetically weak hands.
“What's wrong Orange, I thought you wanted to be here!” Red mocks, pushing Orange further into the metal. They want to see their visor crack from the pressure, feel the blood vessels bursting under Orange's skin while listening to the sweet sound of crunching bone. “Is the position not as rosy as you wanted?”
The HR rep simply gasps weakly in response.
“Why were you even running for the button anyways? Why not let me kill you?” It doesn't make sense. Orange by all accounts has been a MIRA follower, definitely more than Red, though… that's not saying much. So they should have accepted their inevitable death here!
Orange is… orange is crying?
Orange never cries!
They would say something about only permitted crying on break times and fill out a form or something!
This… this feels wrong.
Without the constant cheery attitude, Orange looks… more like a person, less like a shell spitting MIRA codes. They look so… frightened. Their visor blown wide, tears readily streaming down their suit. They had even let go of their precious clipboard to run here as a last ditch effort.
Red looks into Orange’s visor, recognizing the same infection of desperation they have within themself.
Is it selfish to want to live?
…
They should really kill Orange. Just be done with it. Get all their anger out at MIRA for killing them onto this effigy of the company. On top of that, Orange will turn them in, and will send them to the void of space. They should rip and tear to their hearts content by all accounts.
They know this.
They do.
So why is it so hard?
Tiny wheezes continue to escape the HR representative as Red shakes their head. They need to make a decision.
It feels as though they already have.
Dammit, they really wanted to kill them.
Red sighs, beginning to recede their form back into their suit. Once they look relatively normal, they turn back to Orange, who is silently shaking underneath the few remaining tendrils.
“...look, if you don't tell-”
Shink
Red blinks, confusion blending into the melting pot of emotions. Horror quickly follows.
Orange now hangs limply in their hold.
Skewered through the visor.
Blood begins dripping onto the white tiled floor below them.
That- that wasn't Red. They didn't do that yet-
Red looks to the source of the new tendril.
Green stands on top of the cafeteria vent, leaning against the wall.
“Captain.” The intern nods, a small smirk playing on their features.
“...Intern.” Red responds lamely. They can feel blood dripping onto their tendrils.
“Do I have to start cleaning up your metaphorical messes too now?” Green looks around, as if to find a mop.
“No! I had this handled.” Red snaps back, baring their fangs.
“You were going to let them go. They would have pushed the button, called a meeting, and let everyone know you're an imposter. Sure that is definitely handling it.” Scoffing, the fellow Imposter gestures to how close Orange ended up to the button.
“I was going to kill them! You stole my kill!” They hiss, jealousy of all things rearing its ugly head. “What is with you anyways?! First you want me out of the way, then shame me for not killing! You seem pretty inconsistent-”
“I am not inconsistent, I am very consistent, you are just an idiot!”
“I am not an idiot!”
“Yes, yes you are! I've had to carry both of our survival on my back- not that I need help with the killings but you haven't been helpful! In fact-” Green breaks, poking Red's chest, the Captain swats away the finger. “I heard that you can turn into other crewmates and you have not used that except to expose that there are aliens on the ship! A literal worm would have been more helpful by doing nothing!”
“So what? There are aliens on the ship! One of them is murdering Crewmates-”
“Because they'll kill us if we don't!” Green's voice cracks. They adjust their cap and pull on their hoodie drawstrings. It's a side of the Imposter Red hasn't seen before. Or, well, it reminds them more of the act that Green puts on yet… This feels more vulnerable.
“...but you are clearly having fun doing it.” Red shoots back, the words not feeling as much of a ‘gotcha’ as they would like.
“Why shouldn't I?” Green tilts their head, looking at Red as if they were even stupider than they have been stating. “It feels good, and I like to take pride in my work. I know you feel the same, it's part of what we are.”
The Captain bites their tongue. It should feel good, shouldn't it? Are they really this defective?
Seeing Red's hesitation, Green's expression surprisingly softens. They move forward to close the gap between them.
“Can I give you a piece of advice?” Green puts a hand on Red's shoulder. The Captain narrows their visor but Green continues before they can object. “You need to stop letting those memories of yours cloud the little judgement that you have.”
“You're telling me to, what, forget who I was- who Red was?” Their hackles once again raise. They can't just forget who they are to go on some murder spree, that's not sustainable!
“Well, not completely. You need to keep the ruse up somehow, but you are probably feeling all sorts of confusion from them. Best thing to do is ignore them, your host doesn't exist anymore.” The intern states, and Red can swear there is something almost… somber in it.
“Like you're doing?” Their tendrils loosen with a tug from Green, allowing the corpse to sag against the wall.
“I don't have any emotions attached to my memories so it's way easier for me.” Green nods while moving Orange’s body to the floor.
Red furrows their visor, trying to wrap their head around Green's words. Just ignore the feelings? That's nearly impossible to do, that's all they are, feelings, memories, and bloodlust.
And Green…
They finally take a closer look at the Imposter, the usual fear clouding their vision momentarily gone.
The intern is standing a little too straight, as if trying to overcompensate for bad posture. One of their hands circles the drawstrings of their hoodie, fiddling with the aglets. Their foot taps against the blood covered floor as they smirk as Red.
This is not the body language of a Crewmate completely sure of themself.
All of this to say, Red knows when someone is trying to make themselves seem like they have authority.
Green is-
“You're lying.”
“...what?”
“You're absolutely lying. You may be better at this than me, but I think you are more Green than you want to admit.” The Captain points at the Intern, certainty coloring their words.
“Wowie, another joke from the joke of a Captain!” The smirk on Green’s face slips into a grimace. “I am nothing like that worm kissing hick. They're dead. I'm alive and thriving.” The note of slight desperation within the defense is not lost on Red.
“Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that. Who's in denial now?” It's Red's turn to be annoyed, they roll their visor, crossing their arms.
“Shut up! Just-” Green takes a deep breath before making a response. “Look. We don't have time to argue more about this. You killed Orange-”
“You killed Orange!”
“Your stupidity killed Orange. Now we have to make sure neither of us get the crime pinned on us-”
“Wait, you aren't going to… I don't know, let me take the blame?” Red interrupts, confused as to why this wouldn't be the case. The other imposter has been yelling all about how they're an idiot and this is all their fault.
“No. As much as it would be darn satisfying, you may be useful soon,” Green huffs, taking out a knife and beginning to stab Orange’s corpse. “The cooks are holed up in the kitchen, I need an opening to grab one of them. Shut down O2 for me and I will call us even.”
“No, I'm not going to help you kill someone else-” Green would just steal the kill again! …Also it's morally wrong they suppose.
“Did you forget my promise?” A shadow falls over Green's visor, a red spark alighting within. A certain security guard crosses Red's mind and they promptly shut up.
“...just sabotage Oxygen? That's all?” Pretend coughing into their hand to cover their small squeak seems to work pretty well.
“Pull out some wires. Oh, and follow my lead during the voting.” The intern smiles, tipping their hat to Red. Then they hop back into the vent, leaving the scene of the crime.
Red is once again left alone, yet with a mission this time.
They take a deep breath, smelling the alluring scent of copper before turning into weapons.
This should be easy, just tear out some wires. They'll figure out how to fix it after whenever their teammate (?), coworker (not really), another person doing a similar thing to them (better) is done.
No biggie.
The words feel dirty, but at this point, how much more can the universe hate them?
Apparently the Universe has some sort of cosmic grudge because they spot Purple within the room, face shaded by the enormous water tank before them.
Red sighs, there is no way Purple will listen to them if they ask them to leave. Or talk to them. Or try to get a word out without the Security officer hitting them with a wrench.
The locked security door comes to mind just to mock them.
No, Purple wouldn't want to see Red right now. Maybe ever.
…But they don't have to be Red.
Breathing deep, they draw on the same power they tapped into earlier. Stepping out of the formed chrysalis, they feel a bit more sure of their skill.
They had reached to be someone who has already endeared themself to Purple. Unfortunately all they could think of was Cyan.
Their visor twitches as they think about all the affection given to Cyan as opposed to Red. It makes them furious in a way they cannot fully articulate.
Whatever. Now is not the time to think about that. They have a job to do.
“Hi Purple! What are you doing here? Meditating? Can I join you?” Cyan's voice carries across the room, alerting Purple to their presence. They give a shy little wave to sell the act. Who can be upset at a face like this?
The Security officer gives them an indiscernible expression before waving them over. They're still in front of the tank of water, hand on the glass.
“Hey Cyan. I was just clearing my head a bit. Not seeing anything new on the cameras.” Purple's voice comes out thinly, barely looking at Red. The imposter moves closer to the tank, if only to get Purple to look at them more directly.
“Oh, well that's probably a good thing right? No more new accidents?” The shapeshifter tilts their head, the picture of innocence.
“Murders.” Purple corrects.
“Accidents.” Red shoot back.
“What do you want?” The Crewmate snaps, visor narrowed. Yeesh, suspicious much Purps? Cyan is the least suspicious Crewmate and they still have their walls up. Red can't help but be disappointed they still don't get to see Purple relaxed.
“Woah, so many negative vibes! Can't I check on my favorite buddy?” They take the initiative to put their hand on Purple's shoulder. The shapeshifter brightens when it isn't shoved away.
“...yeah. No, it's fine. I've just been on edge lately for obvious reasons.” Purps gripes, rubbing at their visor.
Red gives Purple a once over. “Because you aren't sleeping?” Purple does kinda look like shit. Red is used to them being a bit disheveled- they like that- but the bag under their visor is pretty dark.
“Wuh- I am sleeping!” The guard defends, throwing their hands into the air.
“Uh huh. How many hours?”
“...”
“Minutes? Come on, work with me here Purps- Purple. You need to get some rest!” Red whines, leaning into the excuse of Purple needing to take care of themself better to possibly get them out of the room.
It's a win win, Purple will take care of themself and Red can… do something to cover their own ass. Both fantastic things for Red.
“I don't need sleep! I need to keep looking at the cameras or more Crewmates are going to die to murderous shapeshifting aliens!” Wild gestures are made to the room and ship around them. Red isn't impressed.
“Then why are you in here?” They push, not following the logic here. So sleep isn't a priority but hanging around O2 is?
“I told you, I'm clearing my head.” Purple won't meet their gaze. The avoidance brings the memory of Lime saying something about Purple's secret in Oxygen during their insane rant. Aha, Purple is hiding something here!
“If you can afford to clear your head, you can afford a nap,” They put on their most concerned face, hoping the borrowed facial features do it justice. “In fact, this is pretty far from security. Why take a break here?”
Purple is about to respond, likely with a horrible lie, but Red's attention is drawn to something moving in the water behind them.
A fishmate.
Small, golden, swimming in the O2 filter without a care in the world.
By now, Red has broken so many MIRA regulations that a secret petmate is barely shocking. However, it still stings that the person they literally got a job for was breaking rules behind their back.
“Purple. Is that a fishmate?” Both of them know damn well it is.
“Noooo…?”
“I think they're beautiful and all but um, won't Captain Red be upset about you breaking policy?” Red realizes in this moment that now is the perfect time to find out what Purple really thinks of them. No more dancing around the topic, surely Purple will be more direct with a trusted Crewmate!
“Yeah, well, Red is…” They trail off, glaring at the floor. Their visor furrows, as if making a tough decision.
“Red is what?” Red eggs on, trying to sound as naive as possible.
Purple stares at them a moment before sighing.
“Red is definitely an imposter.”
For the second time today, ice fills Red's veins. What?! How do they know??? Did they witness Red chase Orange? Or was it the suspicion put upon them by Green?
“What? But they're the Captain! Why would the Captain go around killing their own crew?” The words sound far away to Red, despite being the one saying them. They can't find it in themself to fully defend their own honor. Not after practically killing Orange.
Purple gives them a long measured look, searching for something in their expression.
“It's just a hunch I guess. I know them pretty well though, they're acting off.” Purple shrugs. Red internally sighs. No hard evidence means no automatically getting blasted into space.
“How so?” Red fishes for more information. How much does Purple know? Can they change anything so they'll get off their case?
“Just little things. For example, I haven't seen them blink in a while.” Blinking? Oh, Red can totally do more of that! Also, an insane thing to notice. Is Purple… staring at them a lot?
They feel their face heat a bit before trying to get back onto the task of getting Purple to leave.
“...okay Purple. Um, don't take this the wrong way, but I really think you need a nap.” Cyan's voice comes out as genuine concern for a clearly exhausted coworker.
“I'm fine! Just hanging out here with Perseus has been better than sleep!” Purple defends, putting a hand back up to the glass. Perseus, the fish Red assumes, taps back. It's rather cute.
“Perseus will be here when you're gone. I won't tell the Captain if you promise me to at least get an hour? Please?” Red is practically begging at this point. Time is running out. Who knows if someone will find Oranges body before whatever Green has planned will work out?
“Half hour.” Purple bargains.
“Forty five minutes.”
“Mngm okay.”
“Great! I'll see you when your wave sines are all aligned again!” At this point, Red is gently pushing Purple out the door.
The Security Officer just grumbles, walking out of O2. Red prays that they don't attempt to go through the Cafeteria. Green didn't specify if that would be disaterous to the plan or not.
Left to their own devices, Red returns to their natural hue and begins rifling through the machinery beneath the tank. They're not sure what exactly they're looking for but wires are a good start. Green told them to just start pulling, or was it cutting? Eh, one of the two.
The Imposter glances up at the fishmate. From the basic biology they learned about their class fishmate on elementary school, fish actually need air. Not in the way Crewmates do, but air is absorbed through their gills from the water.
Red muses if they went to the same school, that Purple would have been an absolute fiend for facts like that. They seem like the type.
However, this fact has left them in a predicament. No O2, no air in the water, dead fishmate.
It's just a fishmate, Red's continued existence is much more important. They should just do what Green says.
Yet… Perseus clearly means a lot to Purple.
Despite everything, the fighting, the literal blatent accusation of being a killer, and the rest of the heartache, Purple is still important to Red.
They're like a parasite (hah) that won't leave their system. Red hates them. Red hates that they're so caught up on them.
The fishmate isn't important in the grand scheme of things.
It isn't.
Staring at the stars-
Sucking in a deep breath, Red pulls the wires.