Work Text:
Vera stared up at the sky, breathing heavily as she leaned away from her glowing work. Her welding helmet flipped back as she reminded herself of her goals, and her drive toward her dreams. Her eyes flickered between familiar constellations, as they lit up the night sky with their blue hues. The gravitational junk station attracted little light and allowed a view of the nearby galaxy through her naked eyes.
Vera’s eyes were drawn to a particular pattern of stars, and they lingered, tracing the distances between. That was where she wished to go. No. That IS where Vera WILL go. And nothing will stop her.
Vera’s eyes finally returned to her work, her fingers fiddling with the welder as she leaned forward. Her eyes focused on the sheet of entry-resistant alloy and switched Vera’s welder to the proper setting. With a massive flick of her head, Vera’s welding helmet slammed down, sending her world into further darkness. Blindly navigating her welder, she skillfully turned on the flame, and her world lit up in muted light.
Vera worked silently into the night. And slowly, a spaceship took shape.
“Captain!” Her Second’s bellow punctured the air, even though several levels of habsuits lay between them. The spark of panic that edged her level-headed second’s voice sent Vera in a flying bound, leaping down sturdy ladders and hurtling over sprawling debris from the attack.
Her mind was alive, juggling thousands of thought processes as she finally skidded to a halt, slamming unprofessionally against what felt like a solid wall. Vera was peeled off of her steady second, and she finally paused, while being held midair by her head to realize their location. And her heart dropped.
The two of them stood outside the reactor. And through the reinforced translucent alloy, Vera saw a sight no captain would wish on their worst foe. Flares of colorful yet deadly particles bounced inside the resistant room, reflecting against the walls behind Vera and her second. They exchanged a glance.
The reactor sustained, powered, and heated Vera’s ship and its crew. A crew that individually had no chance against the alpha and beta particles that would be released once the reinforced bulkhead buckled. Alien species whose exoskeletons and inner organisms clouds withstand even a millisecond of exposure.
Vera looked at her second. A species renowned for their rock-hard exoskeleton, invulnerable to blows and blaster shots, but riddled with cracks small enough to penetrate and wreck havoc on their extremely fragile internal organs.
“I have to fix this,” Vera spoke softly. Her firm gaze met her second’s and Vera let a small smile slip onto her lips. She had come a long way from that woman welding in her father’s junkyard.
Vera’s hand came down to grip her second’s neck in her second’s cultural expression of trust. “I’ll see you on the other side.” Vera began to pull away, but her Second’s hand clamped down onto Vera’s.
“I will see you among the stars.” Vera’s Second rumbled softly. With one last nod, Vera gave one last smile of comfort, then she pulled away. Vera broke eye contact, and couldn’t bring herself to look back. She reached into the maintenance locker and pulled out her tried and true toolbox.
Vera paused and sighed, hand clamped on the access door. There was no suit on this ship that could fully protect Vera from those raw particles, but she shouldered on a radiation suit regardless. She loved her ship and her crew, and Vera would sacrifice everything to keep them safe. Vera looked up, took one last deep breath, and opened the first bulkhead.
Almost instantaneously, a wave of heat rolled over Vera, causing her skin to prickle uncomfortably. Vera’s second fell back. But even over the growing roar, Vera could hear her stay, eyes drilling into the back of Vera’s head. Vera stepped forward, fighting the heat rolling off of the second bulkhead. She closed the first bulkhead and heaved the mechanism into place.
In a burst of determination, Vera unlatched and shouldered the last bulkhead open. Instantly it felt like her nerves were on fire. Her body screamed, and Vera grit her teeth, fighting the debilitating pain that was flooding her brain.
Vera swung herself into zero gravity, feeling raging head despite the absolute zero temperature that the reactor was suspended in. Planting her feet against the wall, Vera pushed off toward the reactor, hand tightly gripped on the toolbox. Vera nearly slammed into the burning controls, and she fumbled with the metal siding. She haphazardly threw the sheet to the side and fumbled with her tools. After precious milliseconds of her life on the line, Vera finally got to work.
The process was muscle memory, and everything blurred. From one moment, Vera had a tool clutched in her hand, staring into the reactor mechanism, then she was staring up in relief, watching as the reactor calmed down, allowing excess particles to eject themselves behind the ship.
Vera let her head fall back, breathing out a final sigh of relief. Finally, the adrenaline faded from her system, the pain and tingling returning. Vera’s grip loosened, and she slipped from the safety of the reactor control panel.
Slowly, Vera floated out into the reactor void, feeling her mind begin to fade. Sleep, her body told her. Sleep now. You’ve done enough. And oh how Vera wanted to fall, allow the darkness to take her. Oh how tempting that sounded.
But another voice echoed distantly within her mind, her mind barely roused from the soft recesses of her mind, Oh how soft things were. Someone, something, was shouting her name. Who was ‘captain?’ her subconscious muttered softly.
“Captain!”
“Wake up, Captain!”
“Captain!” Vera’s Second shouted. Vera lazily blinked her eyes open. Her mind felt so bogged down. Why was she so tired?
“Just five more minutes-” Vera slurred, attempting to wave flippantly at her second. Through her parted lashes, Vera frowned distantly as her limb disobeyed her. Strange.
“Captain!” Her Second’s voice punctured her mind with a flood of happiness, and of--strangely--fear?
“It’s gonna be alright-” Vera whispered, rubbing the head of her helmet against her second’s rocky shoulder. Why did everything hurt? She wondered to herself.
Vera distantly felt a shudder, and slight shifts as her Second collided with the reactor wall, and frantically opened the bulkheads. Her second barged through the last bulkhead, shoving past concerned crewmembers as they gathered from the commotion.
Gasps of surprise and fear brushed past Vera’s ears, as she was tucked into a bridal carry. Vera’s second was muttering to Vera, so softly that it was indecipherable. Vera couldn’t do anything but nuzzle her second again, hoping to bring comfort in her confused state. Why? What? Why? She asked herself. But Vera’s consciousness couldn’t bring herself to answer those questions.
The walls blurred, and Vera suddenly stared up at the medbay ceiling. Her medic, a stout, tentacled, friendly ally who was deceptively strong stared down at Vera, head lekku curling and uncurling in badly contained worry. Vera tried to move, attempting to prop herself up to reassure her crewmate, but a gentle hand eased her back down.
Vera’s confused eyes met her second’s as her friend’s head joined the medic’s above Vera. Vera’s head tiled aside, and her vision multiplied, warping in and rolling sickeningly. Vera’s stomach rebelled and started to eject her breakfast bar. Chunks of undigested food bubbled up her throat, and over the side of her lips.
Vera’s second recoiled in disgust and stopped the medic’s tentacles from touching Vera. The medic aggressively slapped the Second’s hands aside, clicking an angry retort that Vera couldn’t decipher. Which was strange when Vera had worked so hard to learn all of her crewmates’ languages. But a harsh statement stopped the medic’s reaching tentacles a hairsbreadth from Vera’s skin. Vera only caught one word.
Radioactive.
The medic’s worrying tentacles froze, extended in a moment of shock. That was as much as Vera’s muddled mind could decipher. Then their tentacles slammed against the med pad, making Vera’s body bounce. The Second’s rocky hand came down gently onto the medic’s shoulder, and they leaned into each other, savoring a moment of comfort.
But both being’s eyes never left Vera. And it took all of Vera’s energy to stay aware of them. The Second asked something weakly. The medic mutely nodded their head, releasing a short quick response.
A flash of movement drew Vera’s eye. Out of the corner of her peripheral vision, Vera could see several multicolored blobs. Distantly, her mind connected their blurred patterns to her crewmates, those who she loved close and dear. Vera’s Second looked up, a frown marring her face.
She tromped over to the door, spreading her rocky arms to block the view. A conversation took place in common.
“...Nothing can be done…?”
“...make…comfortable…”
Vera squinted, feeling her heart mourn in loss as her teammates turned away form the door, sparing one last look at her. A tall insectoid, the ship’s mechanic, met Vera’s eyes. They were shadowed, dim with guilt and loss.
“Wait-” Vera called softly, working her dry tongue in her throat. “Wait, please.” She called, worst fading into a rasp as her energy ran out.
Her head thumped back, staring up at the ceiling in exhaustion. She couldn’t look anymore as her crewmates left. She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing some hot tears out to dribble down her cheeks.
But when she opened her eyes, Vera was met with her entire crew crowding above her. A broken smile formed, punctuated by her harsh, quick breaths. She stared up at their faces, filled with worry, sadness, guilt, shame, anger, and loss.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Vera muttered softly. “You’re all gonna be okay.” Her voice rasped. She swallowed painfully. It was getting harder to talk.
“Listen to each other.” Vera wheezed, voice fading. “Trust one another.” Her second appeared at her side, taking Vera’s hand. Vera squeezed it. Vera had no doubt that it felt little different than a feather.
The insectoid spoke up. “If we had noticed- If we noticed the reactor was gonna malfunction, none of this would have happened,” Xey spoke in a guttural common, the words scraping past xir mandibles. Their vocal organs weren’t built for common, and Vera felt a great sense of honor and pride at those words.
“It was no one's fault-” Vera ground out. Her words grew softer. “Just be happy it didn’t get worse. That I was still here to stop it-” Vera paused, chest heaving for every breath. “I don’t blame…” Vera gasped, staring up at her crew. The rock in her chest was growing harder to talk past- “Anyone. This was an accident. And I would do this again if it meant letting you live.”
Vera’s head thumped back, her breaths rising to a peak, rasping and whistling through her throat. In her fading vision, Vera saw several hands reach out. Her eyes closed, fighting for breath.
And-