Chapter Text
For Peace Among Us
Chapter 1 – Bean Burritos
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. The alarm in the soon-to-be captain’s bedroom goes off at the bright and early hour of 5 AM. No reasonable person would ever get up this early willingly, but on this morning, this stubby little alien has some really good reason to.
Using one of their floating hands to pull off their bed sheet and the other to press down on the alarm, they let out a yawn and blink a few times to make out the details of their room. Usually, the two suns that the planet Mira revolves around would be casting some bright light through the windows, but it’s too early for even that to say good morning.
That doesn’t mean no one would be telling the astronaut good morning, though; on the contrary, someone very, very important was just about to do so. The phone on the other side of the room starts ringing, seemingly on cue with their wakeup time. If they didn’t have enough motivation to get out of bed, they sure do now. Rolling off the mattress and landing on the floor with a painless thud, they get up and slowly make their way to the phone, picking up right before the third ring can end. It’s the president of Mira’s space program, and while them calling isn’t a surprise at all, it sure is an important one.
“Good morning, captain! I take it you got a good night’s rest?”
“…*yawn*… E-Er, sorry, sir, good morning, sir. Yep, got plenty of sleep for the important day ahead.” There’s a pause for a moment, making them wonder if the president’s doubting what they just said, but they soon continue.
“I see. Glad to hear the alarm got you up. You’ve got all the personal supplies you’ll need, right?”
“Yep. All the stuff that’ll make the ship feel like home, and that little bird trinket for good fortune.”
“Good, good. Simply calling to check in and make sure everything’s going as planned. The last thing this mission needs is its captain to be sick from the get-go. I’ll be calling all the others soon to make sure they’re up and at it, too, and I expect all of you to be at the station by eight. Make sure you’ve gotten a good breakfast in before you go.”
“Will do, sir. Thank you again for this, sir, I promise I won’t let you down.”
“With your experience, I expect you won’t. You’re the right person to know how much is riding on this for our people. Take care.”
Well, that sure was a comforting way to end the call. Getting nothing but a dull dooooooooop from the other end, the captain lets out a brief sigh before setting the phone down. The president’s right about how they should get a good breakfast in, so they meander into their little home’s kitchen to heat up a couple of frozen burritos, as an astronaut does.
Waiting for the food to heat up gives the captain plenty of time to think over just how important this mission is. It’s not that the planet’s in dire need of some space resource, or setting up a new colony elsewhere, or anything that essential to the future of their species. The future of their culture, though, is a different story.
Mira is the home of a… tense species, to put it lightly. Its habitants have tended to grow very passionate of the backgrounds they have, whether it be geography, occupation, what side of a slice of bread they like their butter on, and other similar fields. The species isn’t one to murder, rob, or do other things that horrible, but the threads of their culture have gotten pretty damaged. People have gotten so, so unwilling to work with each other over the past decades, and when they do have to be brought together from different disciplines, a lot of arguments and shoves can come up for the tiniest reasons.
It’s not a big planet or species – only about ten thousand inhabitants. That’s why the planet’s one governing body came together with the dwindling space program to make a little diversity lesson for the species to watch. Ten astronauts, all from different backgrounds and places from across the planet, are coming together for the same simple mission. The time’s come for the species’ little research establishment on Polus, a cold, snowy planet far away, to be checked on.
A fairly harmless mission, the government decided, would be a great chance for the planet to watch how they can come together for a common goal, without any pointless in-fighting. To make it easier, each member of the crew will be wearing a different full-body astronaut suit, so no differences in traits can be noticed. The captain’s color happens to be…
“Purple. Hope it looks… captain-y enough on me.”, they thought to themselves, as they finished up the tasty burrito and brought their plate over to the sink to wash it. The rest of the colors were distributed randomly, but with purple being a historical color of royalty, the space program saw it fit to give the captain the honor of wearing it.
Furthermore, the identity of each member of the crew is being kept from the others, both before and during the mission. It’s a fairly bold call for the program to make, but they stated if any bias was able to creep in, the point of the mission would just go down the drain. They are not to mention each other by their real names, but rather the colors of their suits. The captain is one of the far too few inhabitants to live a consistently peaceful life around others, but they get why such a call was made.
One interesting order, though, was that each crew member should wear it out of their house and on the way to the station, so no one can get a glimpse of who they are. As the captain thinks about this while returning to their bedroom and pulling their new purple suit out of its packaging, they can’t help but hope this thing’s gonna be comfortable.
“Please don’t just be rubber, please don’t just be rubber, please don’t just be rubber…” They slip it on. Fortunately, there’s a lining of soft flannel inside, so their fear didn’t come true. The shield in front of their eyes is one-way, so even if it looks grey on the outside, they have a clear look at everything in front of them. If their stubby little frame has to wear one thing for such a long time, at least it’s this.
“Alright, then… Purple, I guess it’s time you start calling yourself that, since that’s all you’re gonna hear for a month or so.” ‘Purple’ is right. Their real name is gonna be pretty nonexistent for a while, so the sooner they get used to hearing their color as themselves, the better.
With breakfast in their stomach, their suit on, and their backs packed, Purple’s ready. They give their bed a pat and some cookies to hold it over until their return, unplug and turn off all their lights and appliances, and grab their bags to get going. They’ve had missions before, but never one this long, so they make sure to give their bedroom and kitchen some nice, long looks before stepping outside and locking the door.
It doesn’t take long for Purple to see a very real example of why this mission’s happening. Down the street, two neighbors seem to be in some argument over… one’s trash cans being set a bit over the other’s property?
“No, I can totally put those there!”
“No! You’re not the one paying for this bit of land!”
“Well, I’m sure paying when I smell the stench of what you put out every week. Even if my trash is a bit in your space, which it isn’t, wouldn’t that make us even?”
“Even?!?! You little…!” The ‘discussion’ devolves into them throwing their bean-shaped bodies at each other a bunch of times. There’s less variety in how they can scuffle than humans, but seeing two of them do that is a pretty good sign there was some kind of petty disagreement. Purple looks to their right, watches all of this unfold, and makes a muffled sigh through their suit before stepping off their porch. As expected, there’s this little hoverpad waiting for them outside their home that’ll take them right to the station. It’s been made by Doynota, the 2nd leader in hovercraft technology!, they’re quickly reminded as they step on.
“Taking off for Mira Space Headquarters! Your ETA is about 27 minutes. Here’s a drink in the meantime!” This must be the older model, because it waits until it’s moving up in the air to open the drink slot, and when it does, it yanks a cup of coffee up towards Purple’s suit. They’re glad they’ve got their suit on, because if they hadn’t, that could’ve been a pretty nasty burn.
As they sip the okay-tasting coffee through the tiniest slit in their suit, Purple watches over the neighborhoods under them, where the people and cars look more like ants from this kind of height. With how much the hovercraft’s booking it, there isn’t much of a chance to catch any details, but it’s a good reminder of just how many people will hopefully be bettered by this mission going smoothly.
The trip does take exactly 27 minutes, as the ship promised, as the station grows closer and closer to the view. When it gets close enough for Purple to get a good look at what’s going on, they see a spacecraft that they immediately identify as the Skeld. It’s one of the older crafts the planet has, so it’s a little battered inside and out, but if you think of it as ‘well-loved’ instead, it’s not as bad.
There’ll be more time to think about that on the journey. For now, Purple looks over the rest of the scene, and is surprised for a moment to see some decent media coverage, with an array of cameras and hanging microphones. They’ve never had cameras watching over their work before, so while they knew people would sure be caring about this, seeing that feels pretty unusual. One of the broadcasters catches sight of the hovercraft and signals for the others to turn their attention for it, some getting tripped to the ground by the mics in the process. It makes sense that something big as this would get this coverage.
It’s not much longer before Purple’s craft descends to the ground, making an unpleasant thud as it hits the ground.
“This ends your Doynota ride! Please rate your experience out of five stars.” This little button pad comes out of the same spot the coffee did, but shoots back down before Purple can even answer. Guess it didn’t want to give any time for them to really think about it. Before they can ponder what went behind the thought processes of designing this… thing, the space program president that they spoke with earlier steps forward.
“Good morning again, Purple. I see you’ve gotten yourself better acquainted with your space suit.”
“Yep. Thanks for the flannel. Space itself doesn’t scare me, but thinking about being stuck in rubber for a month is… well, I don’t have to explain.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Hmm?”
“You don’t have to, because I had to do that for two months once.”
“Oh, you… you have my sympathy.”
“It’s alright. The program was digging for pennies back then. Now’s not the time for me to babble on, though. You’ve got such an important day ahead!” The president lifts a hand out for Purple to shake, and as soon as they take it, a bunch of the cameras flash. This’ll probably go on a bunch of newspapers that Purple won’t get to see for a long while.
“So, Purple, are you ready to be reacquainted with the Skeld soon?” They let go of their hand.
“Yes, sir. Nothing says space travel quite like reattaching wires twice a day.” If it was any other higher-up, that would be a pretty risky thing to say, but Purple’s known the President a long while. They get a pat on the back and a chuckle from the President for it, before listening to them go on.
“Ah, yes, the Skeld isn’t quite our flashiest ship, but the rest are on reservations while you’re gone. With a captain of your caliber and a crew of nine others, though, I imagine it won’t be a problem.”
“It sure won’t be, sir. Speaking of which, when should the crew be arriving?”
“In about…” They look at the watch that’s been awkwardly tied around their palm.
“Thirty seconds. Their Doynotas are set to arrive at the same time.”
“Great, looking forward to meeting them. I’m sure there won’t be any sour apples.”
“Sure shouldn’t be. As I’m sure you’re aware of already, the suits and names will keep any bias out, and they’ve all posted great resumes. Speaking of which, I think I can hear them coming now.” The pair looks up to the sky, seeing little specks come closer to view. Sure enough, it’s the rest of the crew, all flying their equally crusty-looking Doynotas. They all come close to the ship to land, but all the camera flashing might’ve thrown some off, because they come down with some pretty hard thuds. The one that’s carrying the red-suited crewmate hits the ground hard enough to knock them down, but they soon get up and dust themselves off, before joining the line the other eight have made.
“Er, sorry. That’s really all the budget had.” The nine of them stand together, looking over at the press every now and then.
“So, captain, this is your crew. They have autonomy in their schedules, but if you ask them to get something done, they’re expected and willing to follow through. We’ve chosen members from three different training levels, to make this as mixed a trip as possible.” The president lifts one of his floating hands… higher than it usually is, and the crew takes that as a cue to break into groups. A couple of them bonk into each other, but they make it happen after a bit.
“Ahem, these, er, are your groups. Red, Yellow, Green, and Cyan here are Level II members of the program, and have an extensive resume of missions. Your Level I crewmates, to their right, are Brown, Blue, White, and Orange.”
One crewmate hasn’t been mentioned yet, and they’re standing on their own, farthest to the right. The rest of them are all standing intently, save for the occasional cough, but this last crewmate can’t seem to stay still. Even with an astronaut suit on, Purple can tell this one’s got a lot of excited energy pent up, and the president soon explains why.
“And this is Black, a rookie to the program. They have taken extensive testing with nothing but stellar grades, but as I’m sure you remember, to become a Level I, they have to complete their first space mission. They’ll be more than willing to do anything they can to help out.” They make a short sound, almost like they were about to start talking, before they manage to keep the energy in for now. Under the suit, Purple has to smile a bit, remembering their own days in training, and completely getting Black’s excitement.
“As all ten of you know, this will be a very, very simple mission, as long as you’ve kept up your studies on the technology out on Polus. You will arrive at our science development there, give everything a thorough check and repair, when doable, over the course of a few days, and will then return. Every day, we will ask you to shoot a press release, to show the good people of Mira how easy working together can be. Am I clear?” All ten of them nod.
“Purple, do you have anything you’d like to say to your crew before you all board?”
“Sure thing, sir.” The President makes room for the captain to stand in front of the nine crewmates, who are still neatly lined up. Their attention doesn’t go to any of them in particular; it’s hard for anyone to stick out in a line when every adult in your species is 3’6, 92 pounds. Clearing their throat, Purple claps their hands together, making sure to give their crew a calm attitude. The ship shouldn’t feel like a dictatorship.
“Hello! I might not know any of you from before, but I can tell it’s gonna be an honor to work with this crew. Together, I’m sure we can make this mission completely efficient, and we have a chance to prove something very, very important to our planet about togetherness. If you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to chat with me. A good captain should give guidance to all of their peers.”
Black seems to be jittering with more excitement, but aside from that, the rest of the ship line nods and stays quiet… until Blue speaks up.
“Sounds good to me, purple. Don’t be afraid to purp me in my place, either, if you find out I blue over something. Some stuff like that’s pretty black and white.”
Unable to resist a good pun, Purple starts laughing hard, and since that proved to the rest of the crew more than the speech ever could that they can be at ease, they start laughing, too. The president, on the other hand, gives Blue a blank stare, wondering how they ever got their Level I certification, but manages to bite their tongue.
“Ahem, um, well, now that I’ve got even better hopes you’ll… get along well together, I think the big moment’s come.” Pulling a little remote control from out of their outfit, the president taps the one big red button on it, lowering the ramp to the entrance of the Skeld. Despite its flaws, it is a hefty ship, so the ramp lowering is a pretty dramatic sight.
Unfortunately, it only stays dramatic for about ten seconds, because like all the other equipment so far, it suddenly comes down the rest of the way with a big thud. It’s pretty clear that more of the budget went to the media than the actual technology the mission would be easier with.
“...There you are! The Skeld! Purple, you may lead your crew up the ramp whenever you’re ready. Again, thank you for taking this mission. Your planet eagerly awaits hearing about the coming journey!” They shake hands again, before Purple waves for the rest of the crew to follow; there’s no use trying to say orders over all the camera clicking.
“See ya later, Mira. I’ll do my best.” The crew skips their way up the ramp, eager to get things ready before taking off. When they all make it to the top, Purple turns around to see the president clapping, as the press keeps taking pictures before the ramp closes shut.
With that, the mission that’ll hopefully, possibly, maybe bring the people of Mira together begins…