Chapter Text
“Do you think that there’s a cube world out there?” Etho asks, twirling her spoon lazily. “Like, a world comprised completely of cubes? The sheep would be cubes, the pigs would be cubes, the people would be cubes- and maybe like, gravity isn’t real in water! Wouldn’t that be cool?”
“No. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Cleo laughs. “Shut your mouth and eat your food.”
“I can’t eat my food if my mouth is shut,” Etho argues.
“You eat around your mask every single meal,” Cleo shakes their head. “I’m sure you can find a way to eat with your mouth shut, too.”
Etho pouts but stops talking and starts moving texture-less red gunk into her mouth. It’s packed with all the vitamins, carbohydrates, proteins, and bees a person needs to stay healthy and eat well. It’s also allegedly chicken flavored. Allegedly.
“Do you know when we’re scheduled to resupply back in the main pathways?” Etho asks between bites of red mush. “It’s been like, two years since we left. Isn’t that kind of long?”
“Never. Tomorrow. I don’t know, Etho, I try not to think about it.” Cleo sighs. “Just- can you let me focus on eating?”
“I wouldn’t focus on that if I were you,” Etho says. “That stuff’s nasty.”
“Right, let me focus on not focusing on it?” Cleo says. They slowly scoop up another bite and mournfully put it in their mouth. “God, I miss tacos.”
“Pancakes,” Etho reminisces.
“Ramen,” Cleo says.
“Cold ham,” Etho says.
“I’m cold right now,” Cleo says. “Temp must be on the fritz again.” They glance at the mechanical hall, where the central processing system is kept.
“I’ll look at it later,” Etho says. She sighs and takes a bite. “You know, when I signed up for the space program, I didn’t think it’d be so...”
“Soul-sucking?” Cleo suggests. “Boring? Lonely? Dread-inducing?”
“I liked dinosaurs when I was a kid,” Etho says. “I wanted to be an archeologist. I couldn’t read super well.”
Cleo snorts. “And you just stuck with it?”
“I mean, I picked up a few other hobbies along the way,” Etho shakes her head slowly. “I did think space’d be more fun than this. I guess that’s what I get for my first trip off-planet being work.”
Cleo scoops up the last of their meal and swallows awkwardly.
“I just wanted to get off Venus,” Cleo says. “Away from it all. I don’t know. I don’t really regret it, I guess.”
“That’s crazy talk!” Etho shoots back. “All you do is complain about the food, and how I never shut up, and temperatures!”
“Not half as much as I complained about back there,” Cleo shrugs. “Hey, you know... the thing I came here for...”
Finished with their meal, Cleo’s gaze drifts over to the singular, small window in the room. “I wanted to throw myself into the sun, you know, when I was- that's why I signed. I wanted to die big.”
“...please refrain from doing so while I’m on the ship,” Etho says dryly. Her eyes search Cleo’s face, concern thinly veiled with humor.
“No, no- because the thing is- I haven’t thought about it in ages,” Cleo says. “I- ugh, this will make me sound so sappy, but- I really value our friendship, you know?”
“Oh,” Etho says. “Oh. You, uh, mean that?”
“I would say that if I didn’t,” Cleo bites out. “I just- I don’t know. It’s better. The people up here. Everyone.”
“Nothing’ll bring you together like realizing how unspeakably small you are in the face of the cosmos and the people who really control them,” Etho says.
“I’m not saying it’s good,” Cleo huffs. “I’m not saying I think we’re going to survive the week. I’m just- I don’t want to die big. I don’t want to die at all.”
“Good,” Etho says. “I’m- I’m glad.”
Cleo shakes their head and leans back in their chair. “Let’s go grab Grian, yeah? I want someone reliable to fix temp.”
“What?” Etho asks, her eyes widening in exaggerated betrayal. “You don’t trust my mechanical abilities?”
“Do you know how many times that stupid temp has broken?” Cleo asks dryly. “If you knew how to fix it, it’d be fixed.”
“...but it’s too much work to go looking for him,” Etho says. “We’re meeting in a half an hour for the monthly report. Just tell him then.”
“I want it fixed before the report,” Cleo complains.
“No shot that happens,” Etho scoffs. “Come on, if we get going now, we can make it back to quarters and grab you a sweater.”
“Fine,” Cleo says. They sigh and stand up, grabbing their tray and dumping it into a wash-hole. “Are you coming?”
“Of course,” Etho says. She dumps her uneaten ‘food’ along with the tray. “Hey, you think Bdubs will give me grief about that later?”
“He only bosses because he worries,” Cleo says. “You really should be finishing that.”
“It tastes bad!” Etho says indignantly. “Maybe I’d be more inclined to eat if we had actual food. There better be the marshmallow stuff for dinner tonight, otherwise I’m rioting. That’s the only one that even tastes like anything.”
“That’s what makes it the worst one,” Cleo argues. “I’d rather not taste anything than be subjected to that awful imitation of a food that’s not that good to begin with.”
They keep up the easy banter as they walk through the halls of Cruiser 4859. The distance between the nutrition station and their quarters is manageable- they're not on opposite ends of the cruiser, by any means- but it’s still a good long mile.
“Home sweet home,” Etho says as the doors to the quarters slide open. “You know, the walks here suck, but at least we get decent sized quarters.”
“I’d prefer a smaller ship. Either that or a cruiser that’s actually properly staffed,” Cleo says. “It’d be less lonely.”
“Hey, I like it lonely,” Etho snickers. “We could have our own rooms if we wanted. We don’t have to wait in stupid lines. I just don’t like people that much in general, really, so there’s no downsides to it being a little lonely.”
Cleo digs around Etho’s closet for the contraband clothing, smirking as they reach under the wrappers of junk food and come across some off-brand chocolate bar.
“Found it,” Cleo finally says, pulling out the fluffy, purple mass of yarn. “I don’t actually think I’ve ever seen you wear this. You should just let me keep it.”
“But what if I get cold?” Etho pouts.
“Etho, in the two years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you get cold,” Cleo says. “Not even during that time temp got so broken that the windows were starting to frost over.”
“It wasn’t that cold,” Etho scoffs. “The frost was on the outside, anyways.”
“You don’t need the sweater,” Cleo says.
“But I still might get cold someday,” Etho says.
Green light floods the room- neither of them jump. They’re well accustomed to it by now.
“Intelligence report commencing in ten minutes. Please report to central bay,” the announcement system drones.
“Let’s get going,” Cleo says. They toss Etho the chocolate and brush past her.
“Wh- Cleo! Was this seriously in the wrappers?” Etho shrieks, chasing after them. “I thought I ran out of chocolate months ago, are you kidding me?!”
“I think you’re supposed to say thanks,” Cleo snarks.
“I could kiss you,” Etho says, dead serious. “I haven’t had chocolate since- I don’t know, we’ve been here too long. Crackers are good, but they get old. Man, chocolate. I wish I had a dependency, so I could get it in my rations.”
“You’re welcome,” Cleo says, shrugging on the sweater. “We should pick up the pace, though- it's a twenty minute walk to central bay from here.”
“I take it back,” Etho groans. “I hate jogging. I’d rather have tiny, cramped quarters than this nonsense.”
“Corward!” Cleo shouts back, running ahead of Etho. “Walk if you have to! I’ll meet you there!”
Etho shuffles in the direction of central bay, taking a bite of the chocolate and stuffing the wrapper deep into his pocket. She finally makes it to central bay after 25 minutes- Cleo is leaning against the wall by the door, fiddling with a thread on the sweater.
“You waited for me?” Etho teases.
“Shut up,” Cleo says, a smile tugging at the corner of their lips.
“Etho, Cleo,” Bdubs nods at them as they walk through the sliding door, his genetically enlarged eyes shiny under the blue light of the screens. “Good to see you, even if you are late. Goodness sake, is no one on this freakin’ ship punctual?”
“It’s just you,” Cleo says, smiling sweetly.
“Geez,” Bdubs huffs. “You’re fifteen minutes late and you’re still the first ones here. Did you pass Gem in the halls?”
“Nope, we came from quarters,” Etho says. “Why?”
“She’s not usually this late,” Bdubs frowns.
“Wait, no one else is here yet?” Cleo asks. “Skizz is usually pretty good about showing up.”
“Oh, yeah,” Bdubs turns back to the screens at the front of the ship. “He’s on pilot duty, though, since we’re going through an asteroid field, so he won’t be coming.”
“And Grian is always late, of course,” Etho says.
Bdubs clenches his fists. “When he finally shows up, I’m going to kill him for real this time.”
“Please don’t,” Cleo says. “He needs to fix temp again.”
“Again?” Bdubs sighs. “This freaking tin can is always breaking down! I swear, if we ever make it back to a headquarters, I’ll be having words with the pre-mission maintenance crew! I’ll show them who-!”
“Guys!” Gem comes sliding into the room. “You’re not going to believe what I found!”
“Gem,” Bdubs nods, straightening his back in the way he always does when he thinks he’s being a good, professional captain. “You’re later than usual.”
“Uhuh, because I found something important,” Gem says, giddy. “Look!” Proudly, she holds out a handful of leaves.
“What?” Bdubs’ eyes widen even further. Etho lets out a low whistle.
“I was on collection duty,” Gem explains. “The asteroid I was breaking down- it had a bunch of plants inside! Like a green geode! None of them are in the database, either, I checked. Some weird evolution, probably pretty distant.”
“Are they edible?” Cleo asks, glancing at Bdubs.
“I’ve gotta run some tests still, but I think so! The chemical formula is a bit iffy, but it should function a lot like starch!” Gem beams. “Finally, that biology degree is paying off! This is like, the first time it’s actually been useful! Gosh, I’m so excited you guys, you don’t even know.”
“Ooh, I hope it’s edible,” Etho says. “I want... monster pie.”
“Mmm, that does sound good,” Bdubs sighs. “Maybe you guys will finally start eating.”
Green light floods the room again- “Intelligence report in one minute. Please prepare for audio connection establishment.”
“You know, the nice thing about being on a stupid ship that no one cares about is that no one cares,” Cleo says, leaning against the wall. “We’re almost always late to these stupid briefings, and we never get written up for it, because command’s always later.”
“Grian’s still not here,” Etho says.
“Bahh, it’s fine,” Bdubs waves her off. “If they ask, we’ll just say he’s… fixing temp, it’s freezing in here. Hey, can someone com him and get him on that, actually?”
“Coms are down,” Gem says. “There was a radiation field last night.”
“Oh, I’ve already fixed most of them,” Etho reaches out towards Gem. “Give me yours, it’s a quick fix.”
“Oh, that’s good!” Gem says, dropping the small metal circle into Etho’s palm. “Is Grian’s fixed yet?”
“It wasn’t last time we tried to call him,” Etho says.
“Shhhh it’s starting,” Bdubs hisses, pushing Cleo out of his way and settling into the very authoritative captain’s chair. “Get behind me.”
“We know the drill, Bdubs,” Gem rolls her eyes, and pulls her spine straight and her arms behind her back. The four of them settle into their roles as an uptight, law-abiding crew, even though no one will actually be able to see them. Behind her back, Etho continues to fiddle with the com.
“Cruiser 4859,” a voice comes from the speaker, warped with static. “Monthly report.”
“Life-support holding steady,” Bdubs responds promptly. “Asteroid collection has continued with a 0.045 increase in efficiency.”
He glances at Gem and her plant, purses his lips, and then shakes his head minutely.
“No notable materials have been located in the asteroids,” Gem picks up the report, smiling slightly. “Storage will likely be filled to 0.25% capacity within the end of the month. Supplies remain sufficient. Course remains steady.”
“Minor mechanical failures continue to occur,” Cleo adds. “The temp, in particular, can’t seem to go twenty hours without plunging the cruiser down to 15 degrees.”
Bdubs elbows her. “None of the failures have endangered the crew or the cargo.”
“Excellent,” the crackly voice says. “Continue your work until further notice. Keep the course steady.” With those final enlightening words, the speaker goes silent, and everyone relaxes.
“Damn. They’re really going to just leave us out here forever, aren’t they?” Cleo sighs, pushing their hair behind their ears.
“I mean… we still have seven years worth of supplies on board,” Gem reasons. “And lots of space left for storage. Fuel’s expensive- they probably just wanted us to make the most out of the stuff they burned to get us up to momentum out here.”
“The longest a cruiser has ever been in outer-space is six months,” Cleo snaps. “Even ones built for asteroid mining- which we are not, need I remind you.”
“Well… we better get our names in one of those record books when this is all over,” Bdubs says, slouching down into the chair.
“We sort of have bigger problems than that, Bdubs,” Cleo sighs.
“Hey, Grian’s been fiddling with all sorts of systems!” Bdubs says indignantly. “That’s why auto-pilot can’t override us anymore, and all that! If things ever start to go bad, we just turn this baby around and live a life of pirates.”
Cleo hesitates, and then sighs. “Sure. Fine. Etho, my plate is acting up again, can you come look at it?”
“Yep yep,” she says, passing Gem’s com back over. “And after we’ll go find Grian?”
“He should have fixed his own com by now,” Cleo mutters. “We shouldn’t have to go track him down.”
“He probably enjoys it,” Bdubs huffs. “Well, I guess I’ll go check on Skizz. Bring him lunch.”
Gem shudders dramatically. “Don’t. That stuff’s beyond disgusting, and you know it. He’s better off without it.”
“We can’t navigate space if half of the crew refuses to eat every other meal!” Bdubs throws his hands in the air. “Goodness sake- Gem, start working on those plants right away, and if they’re not edible, find a way to make them edible.”
“On it, boss,” Gem salutes Bdubs mockingly, and heads off to the bio-lab.
“”If it’s any consolation, I have lots of smuggled food that I eat between meals,” Etho tells Bdubs.
“Of course you do,” he mutters. “Whatever. Just… go help Cleo, and get Grian to fix the temp, because it’s freezing in here. Wait, can’t you just fix temp?”
“I’m not letting her,” Cleo tells him. “It always fails, so obviously she’s fixing it wrong. She’s not even the engineer on this ship- why do we let her fix everything?”
“Because Grian’s always busy dismantling the AI, or whatever it is he does. No time for silly little tasks like replacing the oxygen filters,” Bdubs sighs.
“Yeah, okay,” Cleo sighs. They rub the skin underneath the metal. “Help a girl out, Etho? This is killing me.”
“We’re gonna need to actually go to med-bay,” Etho warns them. “I left the wand in there last time.”
“That’s fine,” Cleo says, a little distracted. “It’s not too bad of a walk.”
The two walk out of central bay together, leaving Bdubs behind to bemoan their engineer’s… experimental style of repairs. Their footsteps muffled by cold, white walls and floor, they make their way to the med-bay. The fission engine hums quietly, filling the entire cruiser with the sound now that everyone is quiet. The stars creep by.