Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > COMMONAREA_CAMERA.RECORDING

One of the doors leading to the common room opens. Two people, standing next to each other, enter. Dakota, the one on the left, is shorter, red hair, wearing just… casual clothing. Jeans and a flannel. On his back is a backpack. On the right, Ashe. Taller, more willowy, a white beanie on her silvery blonde hair, and a large magenta hoodie. 

DAKOTA: So… this is the ship?

ASHE: Yeah. It’s kind of a piece of shit, but…

The lights flicker.

DAKOTA: Case and point.

Ashe laughs, looking around. The ship wasn’t quite as empty as she had expected, then again the prior crew had left quite quickly. 

ASHE: It could certainly be worse…?

DAKOTA: Yeah! We can absolutely work with this. Get some maintenance done, fix her up…

Again, the lights flicker. Almost as though the ship was upset at it’s address.

ASHE: We need to take care of the lights first, I think.

Dakota laughs, walking around, poking his head in some of the rooms.

DAKOTA: I mean, besides the disrepair, it’s pretty nice! Rooms all look roughly the same, there’s no clear damage- I’ll have to take a peek inside the actual mechanics before we even try leaving the planet but-

He pauses, smiling, taking a breath.

DAKOTA: Yeah. This’ll work. 

ASHE: I’m gonna take a look around at the other rooms, if you wanna unpack your stuff-

DAKOTA: Oh, I don’t have anything besides this!

He holds up the backpack.

DAKOTA: And it’s… mostly clothes.

Ashe’s expression is one of concern.

ASHE: Okay. Well then. How about you look around and I unpack my stuff, then?

DAKOTA: Works for me.

Ashe stands sort of awkwardly as Dakota tosses the backpack into a room, seemingly at random, before walking off into the rest of the ship.

ASHE: Never thought this was where I’d end up in life.

The lights flicker sympathetically. She sighs.

ASHE: Yeah, thanks.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > ENGINE_CAMERA.RECORDING

Dakota drops down from a ladder, flannel around his waist, squinting slightly in the dim light of the room.

DAKOTA: Damn. Lights down here too.

He looks around, stretching. After a second, he sighs, and a second and third pair of eyes below and above the pair that were already there open. They seem to give him an easier time of seeing. He goes about checking over some of the more exposed mechanics of the ship, seeming to just be looking for obvious damage. He finds none.

DAKOTA: For how cheap this thing was, you’d think it’d be in more disrepair…?

He speaks to no one. No one listens.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS_TERMINAL > USER_A.WINTERS > INTERNAL_DIAGNOSTIC.REPORT

>ALL SYSTEMS RESPONDING

>FUEL STORES.WINNEBAGO: FULL

>ELECTRICAL_SYSTEMS.WINNEBAGO: UNDAMAGED, RUNNING

>O2_REGULATION.WINNEBAGO: PRIME, RUNNING

>HEATING_COOLING.WINNEBAGO: PRIME, RUNNING

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > CREW1_CAMERA.RECORDING

Ashe sighs, spinning around in her chair and facing the rest of the room. The set up was the same as the others in the ship. She had maybe two boxes of stuff she had decided to take with, not including any of her books… or records. Or CDs. Okay she has way more than 2 boxes, but those things were different.

Unpacking all of it would not be fun. She could do that later. She turns back around to the computer.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS_TERMINAL > USER_A.WINTERS > REGISTERED_USERS.WINNEBAGO

A.WINTERS_ Winters, Ashe “Pilot”

D.COLE_ Cole, Dakota “Doctor”

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > CREW1_CAMERA.RECORDING

A bit of a stretch from the truth, but whatever got them off the ground. Faintly, she heard the door to one of the other rooms slide open. Apparently Dakota had finished his look over the engine.

ASHE: What the hell else am I supposed to do?

She was pretty sure the two of them had looked over all major areas. The ship should be in perfect condition, according to the diagnostics. Above her, the lights flickered. The lingering sense of unease remains.

DAKOTA: Hey Ashe? Come look at what I found.

They’d figure it out.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > COMMONAREA_CAMERA.RECORDING

Ashe and Dakota sit in the common area, eating out of what look like takeout containers. There's a bag nearby on the floor which trash seems to have been haphazardly tossed into.

DAKOTA: So how does this… work?

ASHE: Are you actually asking? I figured if anyone knew, it’d be you.

DAKOTA: …was that a joke?

ASHE: No…? You seem like you know your stuff.

DAKOTA: Oh. No.

Ashe pauses, glancing up at him.

ASHE: Really?

DAKOTA: I haven’t taken exactly… licensed jobs before.

ASHE: …oh.

For a second, she just thinks, glancing briefly in the direction of the bridge.

ASHE: Well, first we look over any obvious damage, repair what we need to… general “baby’s first spaceship” checklist. Then, um…

She spaces out for a second, mentally checking off and mulling over what they need to do. She had been sort of obsessive over making sure their credentials were perfectly in order, even going so far as to hesitantly ask Mark to take a look. Everything should be perfect. Should be.

ASHE: There’s uh- I’ll handle all of the… official stuff. Taking jobs, all that stuff… obviously I’ll talk to you before taking something, we’re working together here, but-

DAKOTA: I get it dude. 

Ashe nods.

ASHE: Yeah, uh… for now though. I look at jobs, you look at the ship- and hopeful we’ll be able to take off as soon as fucking possible. 

DAKOTA: Which is…?

ASHE: Oh. Like… tomorrow? If nothing’s wrong with the ship, that is-

DAKOTA: I mean…

Dakota shrugs. He hadn't seen anything actually wrong with the ship while he was down there. Honestly, the Winnebago was in better shape then most ships he had ever been on. Not that that was a high bar.

DAKOTA: I’ll take a closer look at some of the more tedious stuff while you look for jobs, but… yeah, if that’s all the time you need-

There's a barely contained excitement to him as he slowly realized they would be leaving Prime tomorrow. On a legal ship. Taking WATCH official jobs. Legally.  

ASHE: …Fuck it, I might start looking tonight.

Maybe if she cut back on sleep, she could get them a job quick… something small- they were only starting out, and while she trusted Dakota knew what to do while actually on a ship, she wanted to figure out what to do slowly. Also… they might just deny the job request since the two of them just started.

But if she could get everything perfectly in order tonight…

ASHE: Tomorrow morning. If there’s no clear damage that means anything can be taken care of while off planet, right?

DAKOTA: Well- no. Not even close. But I already checked for anything that couldn’t-

ASHE: That’s good enough. We could- we could be off planet tomorrow morning.

There's a silence over the common area as it settles in.

ASHE: Fuck- I won’t even be able to sleep anyway. I’ll… I’m not hungry anymore. I’ll start looking now.

Dakota makes an expression, like he was just a bit uncomfortable.

DAKOTA: Take the food with you? In case you get hungry while you’re looking.

There's an implication in the strain of his voice. Enough that Ashe doesn’t even think to protest. Just nods, picks up what's left of her dinner, and runs off to her quarters. Dakota sort of slumps once she’s gone, not out of any clear exhaustion- more like he had been holding himself upright the entire time. He glances over to their remaining trash, frowning, then slowly getting up and stretching. 

Like a hypocrite, he throws his half finished food out before retiring to his quarters.

Tomorrow morning. They’d be away from it all by tomorrow morning.

Chapter Text

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > BRIDGE_CAMERA.RECORDING

Ashe sits alone in the bridge, quiet in her pilot’s chair, drinking in what might be the last bit of Prime sunlight she’ll get in a while. It’s the only thing she’s really remiss about leaving. That’s quickly dwarfed by the excitement of finally getting out and being in space. Of finally being out of her house and off Prime.

Behind her, the door slides open, Dakota quietly entering the room. She glances back, waving slightly.

DAKOTA: Nervous?

ASHE: A little. 

Dakota sits in the chair next to her, closing his eyes and leaning back. He would look relaxed were it not for the seemingly never leaving tension in his body. Sometimes holding himself too still, or when he was more focused on other things, the way he'd never stop moving.

DAKOTA: That’s fair. At least you know the ship won’t fail on you.

She laughs.

ASHE: I’m still not convinced on that one. Even if the diagnostics say it’s running perfectly, and you can’t find anything wrong, it still-

As if on cue, the lights flicker.

ASHE: …does that.

DAKOTA: We’ll figure it out. Everything else runs perfect- and when I say perfect I mean perfect. You can tell it’s an older Belltech model because it’s not a piece of shit.

ASHE: Are newer Belltech models particularly uh… bad?

DAKOTA: Ehh… they’re not… There's a reason pirates leave them alone.

ASHE: Huh.

In the brief time Ashe had known Dakota, a few things about him had stuck out. The first was pretty obviously the whole vaguely inhuman thing- she got the vibe that he tried to avoid showing it off too much, but… it was hard to not notice. The way pairs of eyes would flutter open in darker rooms, shining amber. She wondered if that was the only thing off about him, or if there was more he was hiding. Ashe knew better than to just ask but fuck if she wasn't curious. The second thing she had noticed was he was a hell of a good mechanic. Even though she had started working with him because she needed someone with medical proficiency- she actually trusted him to keep them off the ground. And with the state of the Winnebago, she was growing increasingly thankful for that.

The third was the sheer amount of shit that he knew.

His expertise did seem largely in famous pilots and crews, but along with that were the small little tidbits he'd sprinkle in. Belltech models, pirates, rogue ships, unlicensed scrapping… Ashe wasn't really sure what the vibe was. She's not sure it's hers to know.

As always, she doesn't mention it. As always, she doesn't ask.

ASHE: We're just sort of waiting for clearance to leave right now.

A gross under exaggeration of the actual process, but she wasn't exactly going to get into that right now. 

DAKOTA: And then we'll be off?

ASHE: Well-

Yes and no. Technically, they had to wait to make sure their flight path would be clear until they left atmosphere, wait for their ship to be disconnected from the port, and wait to be actually away from Prime before they could really breathe easy. But all that should happen quick enough that it didn't really matter.

ASHE: …yeah. Basically. 

Before further conversation can start, the ping! of a message being transmitted quickly consumes all of Ashe's focus. 

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS_TERMINAL > USER_A.WINTERS > DEPARTURE.REQUEST: ROCKFALL_DOCKING.PORT

>You're cleared for take off, Winnebago.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > BRIDGE_CAMERA.RECORDING

She stares at the message for a second, mind suddenly blanking.

They were cleared for take off.

ASHE: …holy shit.

She laughs something strangled, and in a second her hands are in motion. The engine's soft humming suddenly a roaring as the ship, a second ago dormant, suddenly springs to life. They're fucking cleared for take off. She was getting out.

Dakota stares at her as she moves, more comfortable in the pilot's chair than anywhere else he had seen her. It was like that looming cloud of anxiety and hesitance had just... melted away. Surrendering to muscle memory and sheer electric excitement. The controls perfectly natural under her hands. Like second nature. Breathing with the thrum of the engine. He's almost too busy staring at her to notice as they disconnect from port, and begin their ascent. Almost.

DAKOTA: Fuck-

The air pressure change would never not get him, wincing as his ears pop. The Winnebago wasn't the shittiest ship he had taken off in, so it's not super bad but... it was still annoying. Ashe pays it no mind, too focused on making sure everything goes perfectly. Something she could control. Something she could guarantee.

ASHE: Finally.

She barely even registers that she says it as the sky starts to fade, darker and darker around them. Dakota doesn't say anything, can only silently agree.

Now exiting Prime airspace.

>the ship is no longer silent.

>the engine thrums.

>angry.

>warm.

>lonely.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > COMMONAREA_CAMERA.RECORDING

After entering faster than light, Ashe is slow to join Dakota in the common area- watching every small change with awe and childlike wonder, experiencing it for the first time for herself (she'd watched hundreds of videos as pilots flawlessly navigated their ships into faster than light, as the stars around them streaked into line, negligible as the flew past)- but after a time does. Relaxed on the, admittedly pretty nice, couch, he glances up when he hears the door slide open, giving Ashe a smile.

DAKOTA: So… this job. Anything crazy?

ASHE: Oh, uh… not really? It's pretty straightforward. I looked for one of the low risk ones, I hope you don't mind.

Dakota just shrugs.

DAKOTA: The pay?

ASHE: Well it is… lower risk. So it's only a few hundred credits.

Fuck, Dakota forgot that everything in space was so much more expensive. A few hundred credits would've kept him fed for months. (Well… maybe not months. But a while for sure. (Of course, that wasn't accounting for a whole other person- and refuel, remaining repairs, the whole nine yards… okay maybe a few hundred credits is a lot less than his gut reaction wanted him to think, but still.))

DAKOTA: As long as it's in and out we should be able to get another job pretty soon after, yeah?

ASHE: Yeah. Yeah we should be able to. Speaking of, um- money and jobs, that is.

She was doing so great at this.

ASHE: Do we have any plan for… budgeting? Because we're obviously going to need to put aside money for some of the non-immediate repairs, but also-

DAKOTA: Yeah, food and fuel. We can figure it out when we dock next. For now, get the money. Worry about it later.

Ashe frowned, not exactly liking this plan, but not objecting. Something about how certain Dakota sounded on the topic. Like he'd already figured out everything they needed. He hadn't. And she knew he hadn't. But she doesn't step to. Doesn't want to start a fight. Doesn't want to question him one day in.

ASHE: We've got a while until we'll be in wildspace, so we've sorta just got a day to burn. If you need me I'll… be in my room.

She nearly chokes on the words, a sinking feeling in her gut. Something familiar. Dakota gives her a quick glance, but she's gone faster than he can respond.

DAKOTA: ...Right. Cool.

He sighs, getting up and wincing.

DAKOTA: Fuck. My back. Ow.

Dakota frowned. Whatever. He'd worry about it later. For now… he could just… sleep until they got there. Surely nothing was wrong with this plan.

They were off the ground and off planet. That was what mattered.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > CREW1_CAMERA.RECORDING

Ashe falls face first onto her bed, sort of just sitting there for a few minutes.

She had unpacked some, shelves being filled and desk space quickly running out. It certainly wasn't her old room, but that was sort of comforting. It was somewhere new. Somewhere different.

Sighing, she gets back up- then moves over to her computer.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS_TERMINAL > USER_A.WINTERS > TEXT_DOCUMENT: Untitled Document 

-scrap job

-finish unpacking

-look into heating/cooling and lights

-figure out how money is going to be managed (prioritize repairs??)

-how do you talk to people

-oh god

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > CREW1_CAMERA.RECORDING

Ashe let her head slam down onto the desk, looking up at the screen with a frown on her face.

ASHE: Checklists are so dumb.

For a second, she considers just deleting it.

Then, she stands up and walks back over to the few remaining boxes. Ashe struggles slightly as she moves the large box of records up onto one of her shelves next to the already in place record player, not even caring to remove them, just opening the box and tilting it onto its side so they were visible and removable. Work smarter not harder.

A few of them were Mark's, stolen or gifted, but on the whole they were game soundtracks or albums she really liked. Something familiar. She took one of the albums out, removing the record and setting it onto the player, setting the empty sleeve to the side.

Over the course of the next few minutes, she listens to the quiet music and goes about unpacking and breaking down the remaining boxes until everything is in its place. Once she's done, Ashe sits down at the desk and highlights the “finish unpacking” bullet point, then deletes it.

There.

One down.

Chapter Text

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > BRIDGE_CAMERA.RECORDING

DAKOTA: So walk me through it, what are we doing?

Ashe laughs quietly.

ASHE: Even if the jobs you were taking were unlicensed, there’s still a procedure…?

DAKOTA: Maybe I’ve just never paid attention to it before.

Silence, but only for a second.

ASHE: Okay, sure.

She brings up the job listing on the ship’s interface, only slightly impeding their view- then below it the autopilot. They still had a small handful of minutes before they were in the rough area they were supposed to be in. It was a bit annoying that they didn't have a precise location, but… unmanned ships wander.

ASHE: We’re gonna drop out into wildspace shortly, from there we find the ship, send a message to double check it’s abandoned and then…

DAKOTA: Board and scrap?

Ashe nods.

ASHE: Board and scrap.

DAKOTA: More familiar with that part of the process.

Caught off guard, Ashe laughs, much louder than she was expecting. She brings a hand up to her mouth, teetering off into giggles.

ASHE: I’m sorry I- I don’t know why that was so funny to me.

Dakota grins. Ashe's laugh was nice. He was glad to hear it.

DAKOTA: I’m just that funny, dude.

ASHE: I guess.

The little bit of joke does wonders for the mood in the ship- not that it had been exactly dreary before, but there’s a bit more liveliness to the two of them now.

DAKOTA: So this ship was a…?

ASHE: Cargo ship.

Most of them were. Cargo ships were most commonly the type attacked by pirates. On account of the cargo.

DAKOTA: What model?

ASHE: Oh- um. Sorry I forgot that was important.

She tabs through the job report quickly.

ASHE: Uh…. bbb…. Blackwood? 

Almost instantly Dakota scrunches up his nose, actually leaning forward to get a look at the report.

ASHE: Is that bad…?

DAKOTA: No! No it’s just uh-

He trails off, busy reading, two sets of eyes wide open.

The Harttawa, a Blackwood Tech Cargo ship, which went offline 3 weeks ago. The job report doesn’t say what type of cargo the ship was hauling, or have any crew listings, which was more than a red flag.

DAKOTA: …maybe I should look over the job listing next time.

Ashe winces, looking away.

ASHE: Uh- sorry. It looked fine to me so-

DAKOTA: It’s okay dude, there’s nothing wrong with the job it just might not be… as low risk as you assumed. There’ll be more than enough parts to sssst… sell on our own.

ASHE: So what’s with… Blackwood Tech?

DAKOTA: Oh that’s just-

He pauses for a second.

DAKOTA: Largely personal? There’s nothing- okay well there definitely is something wrong with the company, but there’s nothing wrong with the ship.

He doesn’t elaborate further.

Ashe doesn’t ask.

Instead, she sets about dropping them out of faster than light.

It probably doesn’t matter, anyway.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS_TERMINAL > USER_A.WINTERS > TEXT_TRANSMISSION: CARGOSHIP_REGISTRATION.HARTTAWA

>Harttawa, this is the scrappership Winnebago, if we don’t receive any sort of response from you within the next few minutes we will be boarding you. 

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > BRIDGE_CAMERA.RECORDING

ASHE: So this is the part you’re familiar with?

DAKOTA: Yeah! If you want, I can walk ahead of you so if there is actually anything in the ship it’ll have to go through me.

Ashe assumes he’s joking. He’s not.

ASHE: Cool, cool. Yeah, cool.

DAKOTA: Cool.

Cool. 

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > CARGOSHIP_REGISTRATION.HARTTAWA > cargo_camera.recording

>thank fuck all these ships are standardized 

Dakota walks in front of Ashe as the two make their way onto the ship, casual as ever despite the eerie and empty hull the walked through. The cargo bay is full of crates with cloths thrown over them, turning the large room into a sort of maze. There’s an dread to the abandoned ship, something about the emptiness just feeling wrong.

ASHE: Damn. It's dark in here.

DAKOTA: Oh- yeah, it is. Hold on, I’ve got uh-

He checks over a few of his pockets, producing a flashlight and offering it to Ashe.

DAKOTA: You need it more than me.

She looks grateful as she takes it, flickering light illuminating the large imposing room. It sweeps over the crates, some of which she now notices strongly resemble zoo cages.

ASHE: What… the fuck…?

Stepping closer and moving the covering to the side, Ashe realizes that, yeah those are just… animal cages? They largely all seemed empty, but there’s something sinking that comes with the realization. The idea that they might not be alone.

ASHE: Hey Dakota? You need a specific permit to transport livestock, right?

DAKOTA: Yeah? Why? 

ASHE: …do you think these guys… had one of those?

Dakota looked around, frowning.

DAKOTA: No. They absolutely didn’t. 

Ashe took a minute to study Dakota. She’d seen the other pairs of eyes before, kind of hard not too, but it was interesting to see them in the dark. Reflecting the light ever so slightly. She’s quick to look away, continuing on into the ship. Not her business.

ASHE: So what’s the deal? What do we do?

DAKOTA: Sweep of the ship, look for signs of life, then take whatever looks expensive.

Seemed easy enough.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > CARGOSHIP_REGISTRATION.HARTTAWA > engine_camera.recording

ASHE: This ship layout is…

DAKOTA: Different? Yeah. Most ships of the same company are going to look basically the same, and all Prime ships are regulated, but their layouts are wildly different.

ASHE: …what?

DAKOTA: Uh. Ships from Prime all have to have certain things, both in crew and like… make. But besides that companies are allowed to go as wild as they want. All Belltech ships are going to look vaguely the same, but will be wildly different from a Blackwood, y’know?

ASHE: Right. That makes sense.

DAKOTA: It’s really interesting! Uh… to me, at least. There’s some pretty cool variations on… outliers and stuff. 

Dakota looks away, pretending to look over the mechanics of the ship’s engine room. Doesn’t see the way Ashe looks up at him, disappointed he didn’t go on.

ASHE: So- this engine. It’s different from ours, yeah?

DAKOTA: Yeah. that’s cause- different companies uh- there's industry standards, it’s not too different from like… car or video game systems. You seem like a… gamer…?

Ashe stares at him. He stares at Ashe.

ASHE: I am.

DAKOTA: Right! It’s like that.

Movement under one of the desks, behind Ashe. Dakota sees it first, eyes going wide.

DAKOTA: Oh shit, dude, behind you.

Ashe is quick to stumble around, shining her flashlight on some sort of small animal, which quickly darts out of the light, then out of the room.

DAKOTA: Wait-! No! Come back!

Dakota quickly runs out after it, leaving Ashe just sitting there for a second before she realizes what’s happening.

ASHE: Dakota- …fuck. Shit! Slow down!

She runs after, trying her hardest to keep her eyes on Dakota as she does, sure that the second she loses sight of him she’ll be lost.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > CARGOSHIP_REGISTRATION.HARTTAWA > cargo_camera.recording

The animal darts over and behind crates, scrambling with an intelligent nimbleness, but Dakota gives dedicated chase, shouting after it as he does. Behind him, unathletic and quickly out of breath, Ashe stumbles her way into the cargo bay, leaning against the entrance as she tries to breathe.

DAKOTA: Hey- little guy- we're no threat-

Finally backed into a corner, Dakota slowly approaches the thing. It almost seems like a mass of fur as he crouches down, holding a hand out.

DAKOTA: I’m not gonna hurt you.

The mass of grey fur uncurls from itself, eight little eyes peering up at Dakota.

DAKOTA: Oh. You're…

He stares down, blinking slightly as four sets of limbs unfurl. He makes a small noise in the back of his throat.

DAKTOA: You’re a freak like me, huh?

The animal, which can now be vaguely identified as some sort of fucked monkey, just stares back up at him. Still hesitant, still scared. Dakota quickly glances his head up above the crate, looking to make sure he was hidden from Ashe’s view before shrugging his jacket off and letting it fall to the floor in a heap.

A breath in, a breath out.

Emerging in a fleshy mass from his back, two arms almost seem to erupt underneath the ones which were already there.

DAKOTA: Fuck-

He winces, stretching the limbs which had laid dormant for so long. Like an itch he couldn’t quite reach, or a muscle that wouldn’t untense. It felt good, having them out.

DAKOTA: See? I’m like you. Well I got two less of uh… everything. But… 

With his lower set of arms, Dakota reaches out towards the spidery monkey, waiting patiently as it creeped towards him. Dakota’s grin only widens as it crawls up and on his arm. He holds it up to his face, lower eyes slowly blinking, giggling as the monkey blinks back.

DAKOTA: You seem like a Bobo. Can I call you Bobo?

He waits for a response, as though Bobo could respond.

DAKOTA: Well, Bobo, would you mind climbing onto like- my shoulder or something?

He reaches down with his upper set of arms, pulling his jacket back on.

DAKOTA: I don’t uh… don’t really want my pilot seeing these.

Dakota laughed nervously, glancing back up in the direction Ashe was in. Bobo seems to understand, though, clambering up Dakota’s body and allowing him to almost melt his lower arms back into his body.

It doesn’t feel good. It never does. But Dakota doesn’t want himself to be any more of a freak than he has to, so all of his less palatable nonhuman qualities are reserved for dark warm engine rooms, or empty featureless sleeping quarters.

DAKOTA: Hey Ashe! I found him!

He stands up, letting Bobo crawl all over him as he walks back over.

ASHE: Oh- jesus. What uh… is he?

DAKOTA: A monkey, I think…?

ASHE: Well, yeah, but-

She stops, frowning slightly.

ASHE: What were they… doing here?

Dakota shrugs, as if it wasn’t obvious enough that even he had put it together. Then again, he had more experience with shutdown, abandoned cargo ships, lined with cages, piles of research- suddenly deserted for seemingly no reason. Blackwood Tech was a red flag for a reason, after all.

DAKOTA: Not our job to worry. C’mon, I doubt their cargo has anything worthwhile expect for Bobo here.

ASHE: Bobo?

DAKOTA: Yeah! He seems like a Bobo, doesn’t he?

ASHE: I mean… yeah, I guess.

DAKOTA: Exactly! Now that bridge- I’m sure those computers are expensive as hell dude.

ASHE: Aren’t those going to be super heavy?

DAKOTA: Eh, there’s two of us.

Ashe can tell there’s something he’s avoiding talking about.

She doesn’t ask.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > CARGO_CAMERA.RECORDING

Ashe leans over a large computer, breathing heavily. Dakota is on the other side, watching her with a sympathetic smile.

ASHE: How did you convince me this was a good idea?

DAKOTA: Well we managed it, didn’t we?

Ashe gives him a deadpan stare.

ASHE: All this for like… maybe a little bit of fuel.

DAKOTA: Or a month’s worth of food.

ASHE: A month feels generous.

DAKOTA: We could always go back for the rest of the computers…?

ASHE: Well! 

Ashe pushes herself off of the computer, instantly regretting it but committing nonetheless.

ASHE: If you wanna do that on your own you are welcome to-

DAKOTA: I’m good.

ASHE: And thank god for that.

Dakota laughs, jostling Bobo as he does.

ASHE: But besides that, our job here is done. Like you said, their cargo bay was… pretty much just empty containers.

DAKOTA: Except Bobo.

ASHE: Well, yeah, except Bobo. I figured he went without saying.

DAKOTA: So now what?

Dakota walked around the computer, very clearly intending to follow Ashe wherever she started walking. It’s enough to sort of catch her off guard for a second. She was very surprised by just how interested Dakota seemed in all of the process she went through in between jobs. While it could just be that he didn’t know it and wanted to be familiar with it, it… sort of felt like more than that.

Talking through it made Ashe feel better, anyway. Like she wasn’t going to accidentally forget something.

ASHE: Well now we report back that yep! Ship’s abandoned and there’s nothing useful on it. And then we look for another job.

DAKOTA: Why do we have to send in a report?

They had started walking to the bridge, Ashe letting herself get lost in explanation. She had spent years of her life learning every little process, every possible scenario for a pilot to find themselves in- and having someone else be genuinely interested in it was… refreshing. A breath of fresh air. Something… freeing.

ASHE: Mostly so WATCH doesn’t have to worry about rogue ships. Also so that a bigger ship can come bring the ship planetside. I thought this sort of stuff was like… common knowledge? Even with like… unlicensed scrapping.

DAKOTA: Ehh… not as much as you’d think.

ASHE: Oh. Huh. Good to know, I guess.

She should ask.

She doesn’t.

>fucking coward.

Chapter Text

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > COMMONAREA_CAMERA.RECORDING

DAKOTA: Three thousand credits?!

He asks it incredulously, staring at Ashe like she grew a second head.

ASHE: Well it's- most of it is going to end up for to the ship, but-

DAKOTA: Ashe you realize that on Prime I was working for minimum wage, right? And the few times I did something stupid like an unlicensed scrapping job it was split between me, a crew of like... four, and an utter shitheap of a ship- God am I glad that thing went up in flames.

ASHE: I- you- what?

DAKOTA: Dude! Do you realize what this means?

ASHE: What?

She sounds exasperated, but affectionate.

DAKOTA: We could totally pay for the repairs to be done at a port! We don't even have to do it ourselves!

ASHE: Do you… not want to?

DAKOTA: Well- no, I do, but I can’t find anything wrong with it and it’s- it’s the principle, Ashe!

ASHE: Of course. The principle.

DAKOTA: Shit, almost makes you wish we went back for the other computers!

ASHE: Oh, fuck no. There was no way you were getting me to help lug any more of those things.

Dakota laughs, but the sheer excitement at the price that one computer was going to be sold for- he wanted so desperately to get up and pace or something, had so much energy and no way to get it out.

ASHE: So is that… the plan? At the next port we drop off the computer, get ship repairs done, refuel, and get a new job?

DAKOTA: Yeah! Sounds like a good plan. I’ll do a check over the engine again- seriously, dude, I can’t for the life of me figure out what’s wrong with this thing.

The lights flicker.

ASHE: They’ve got a pretty comedic timing, huh?

Dakota snickers.

DAKOTA: Maybe the ship actually is haunted.

ASHE: …

DAKOTA: Ashe.

ASHE: Okay-

DAKOTA: Ashe you don’t seriously think the ship is haunted, right?

ASHE: No! Of course not, but if the ship diagnostics say everything is fine, and you can’t find anything-

DAKOTA: Ashe.

ASHE: …yeah? 

DAKOTA: It’s probably just something in the electrics that the ship is reading as perfectly fine. Someone smarter than me will figure it out at the next port, and we can stop worrying about it dude.

Ashe lets out a breath, nodding.

ASHE: Sorry, I just-

DAKOTA: Dude, I get it! I’ve never met a pilot who wasn’t superstitious. 

ASHE: Really?

DAKOTA: Well… no. but I thought it’d make you feel better.

ASHE: …thanks man.

DAKOTA: Yeah! Seriously though, chill out. We’re on route to the nearest port, right? So it’s basically already over. Plus, dude! First job done! That’s gotta feel good.

It’s sweet how hard he tries to make her feel less fucking crazy, and Ashe honestly really appreciates it, so she smiles and nods along.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > BRIDGE_CAMERA.RECORDING

Ashe is curled up in the pilot’s seat, silently watching the stars around them. The port they were going to was close enough they didn’t have to enter faster than light, but they still had a bit of a ways to go before they were there. She had almost wanted to do it manually, instead of letting the autopilot, but ultimately that was more like a stupid pipe dream. This was easier. Let the computer do the heavy lifting. That’s what they’d been made for, wasn't it?

Still. The itch persisted.

She’d dreamed about being here, in the stars, flying freely for… so long. Light-years away from Prime, following a forgotten family legacy.

Ashe reaches a hand out to the console. It was stupid to say it made her feel closer to her mom. It didn’t. But there was something… satisfying to it. Knowing that this was what she saw, what she felt.

It’s cold in the bridge, and Ashe quickly curls back in on herself. She was thankful most of her clothes were pretty long sleeved, because she really did need the layers. Sighing, ashe sits up, leaning forward and bringing up a text channel.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS_TERMINAL > USER_A.WINTERS >TEXT_CHANNEL: USER_D.COLE

A.WINTERS

hey dakota

is it cold in your room rn?

D.COLE

No? But i don't get ocld easy

A.WINTERS

dude i'm moving up fixing the heat system in our priorities 

D.COLE 

Lmaooo 

A.WINTERS

i'm being so fr right now

The bridge is freezing

D.COLE

I belive you dude

Well figure it out

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > BRIDGE_CAMERA.RECORDING

Ashe leans back, letting the text channel fade out of existence. Despite the cold, it’s serene. Calm. Strangely comforting, the quiet hum of mechanics around her, engine underfoot, kept afloat only by years of advancement in human technology. Decades of history encased in metal, among the stars, trillions of miles away from her home. Dead silent (but not really.) dead calm. But only for a minute. 

The ship shakes violently, as if impacted by something large. Ashe sits up quickly in her seat, wide eyed.

ASHE, YELLING: …Dakota?

DAKOTA: Ashe?

ASHE: Dakota? 

DAKOTA, GETTING LOUDER: Ashe?!

ASHE: Jesus- Dakota! Come to the bridge!

The sound of Dakota running down the hall, then his voice, louder and clearer now as he pokes his head into the bridge.

DAKOTA: What? Are you okay?!

ASHE: Yeah, but- what the fuck was that-?

DAKOTA: Asteroid, I think? You’re not hurt, are you?

ASHE: Just… shaken, I think. Are you?

DAKOTA: Nope… wait, shit- the ship!

He curses quietly, anxiously glancing back as if he could see any of the damage from this vantage point. Even if he knew, realistically, there was no way so small of an impact could have breached the hull.

ASHE: We need to get it fixed anyway. 

DAKOTA: It’s gonna be more money, though…

Ashe winces. There’s a moment of silence.

ASHE: We’ll look for a job while we’re there. Maybe we can go for something more… expensive this time.

Dakota looks unsure. He knows she means risky. Even if he’s fine with it, he doesn’t want to put her in a dangerous situation. He’s more prepared for that. Has more experience. But… he can’t really pretend the thought isn’t enticing. The idea of something real. It’s electric under his skin.

DAKOTA: …Okay. 

ASHE: Okay?

DAKOTA: Yeah, okay. We can handle it!

His thought of ‘I can protect you.’ goes unspoken.

ASHE: We’ve got another hour until we’re at the nearest outpost- I’ll run a diagnostic and see if there’s anything we can do, alright?

DAKOTA: Yeah, of course! I’ll go make sure nothing else got affected.

Ashe smiles.

ASHE: Cool. Have fun.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS_TERMINAL > USER_A.WINTERS > INTERNAL_DIAGNOSTIC.REPORT

>HULL.WINNEBAGO HAS SUSTAINED MINOR DAMAGE

>DOOR_POD2.WINNEBAGO NOT RESPONDING

>FUEL STORES.WINNEBAGO: LOW

>ELECTRICAL_SYSTEMS.WINNEBAGO: UNDAMAGED, RUNNING

>O2_REGULATION.WINNEBAGO: PRIME, RUNNING

>HEATING_COOLING.WINNEBAGO: PRIME, RUNNING

>MAINTENANCE RECOMMENDED

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > BRIDGE_CAMERA.RECORDING

ASHE: Shit.

She sighs, leaning back in her chair. Minor damage was fine. They could deal with minor damage. But… Dakota was right. It was going to be expensive. She leans forward again, bringing up the autopilot route.

ASHE: 45 minutes. Great. 

This was not great.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS_TERMINAL > USER_A.WINTERS > DOCKING.REQUEST: WATCH_OUTPOST.MECHSTOP

>SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO REQUESTING DOCKING. LOW FUEL AND MINOR DAMAGE SUSTAINED. MAINTENANCE NEEDED.

>Belltech model 31221 Scrappership the Winnebago requesting dock. We’re in need of maintenance due to an unexpected asteroid hit.

>No need to submit twice, Winnebago. You’re clear to go.

>Shit. New ship. I thought it was too old to have an automated docking request.

>All good, don’t worry. Bay 12 is clear for you.

>Thank you.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > INTERNAL_DIAGNOSTIC.REPORT

>ALL SYSTEMS RESPONDING

>FUEL STORES.WINNEBAGO: FULL

>ELECTRICAL_SYSTEMS.WINNEBAGO: UNDAMAGED, RUNNING

>O2_REGULATION.WINNEBAGO: PRIME, RUNNING

>HEATING_COOLING.WINNEBAGO: PRIME, RUNNING

>...hm 

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > CREW2_CAMERA.RECORDING

Dakota sits quietly in his room. It’s basic, and almost entirely empty. There’s a bed and desk, both built into the ship itself, and with minimal clutter. It’s almost sterile. He sits on the bed, cross legged, leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed. Reflecting. 

His relaxing is interrupted by a noise from the computer on his desk. He opens his eyes, and for a second just stares at the screen before standing up, stretching, and sitting down at the desk.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS_TERMINAL > USER_D.COLE >TEXT_CHANNEL: USER_A.WINTERS

A.WINTERS

so

good news

i think whatever was messing with the heat got fixed?

D.COLE

O shit

A.WINTERS

which

thank god

the diagnostic kept saying there was nothing wrong

D.COLE

Metoer hit jostled the hvac

A.WINTERS

i guess??

anyway

planning on heading out into the outpost to look for a job in a little

you coming?

D.COLE

Yeah!! Sure

Just let me know when :)

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > BRIDGE_CAMERA.RECORDING

The ship is empty.

There is no movement. 

Only the hum of the engine.

The ship is empty.

The ghost is alone.

The ghost is alone.

>they’ll be back.

Chapter Text

The port they stop at is one of the smaller ones in the area, as larger actual rec stations rarely dared get so close to wildspace, but even still… There's wonder in Ashe’s eyes as she looks around, drinking it all in. 

“Is this… your first time in a port?” Dakota asks her, hands buried deep in the pockets of his jacket. How he didn’t overheat in that thing was an absolute wonder to her, especially with how hot he ran and how hot the engine of the ship was.

“Uh- yeah. I mean I’ve been to the one on world, but…” Never before in space. Wide open windows meet her gaze everywhere she looks, the expanse of stars before her, it’s… a little overwhelming. 

“Yeah. Certainly one of the nicer ports, at least.” Ashe watches as Dakota does what seems to be a sweep, eyes darting for shop front to shop front. She wasn’t sure what he was looking for, though.

“What… defines a bad port?”

“Crime, mostly.”

Ashe waits for him to elaborate.

He doesn’t.

“Okay, cool. So uh- we’re already set on most of the stuff we need, but if you want to maybe look around, we’ve got some time before the ship is like… fully repaired.”

Dakota squints at her for a second before he responds. “What do you want to look at?”

She tries, she really does, to give him some sort of answer, but there’s just… so many options. So many little shops, places for pilots and crews to stop and eat, parts stores, bars, repair shops… her eyes flitter from place to place from person to person, the workers milling about, crews laughing together, so many options, so many choices.

Ashe isn’t so used to making choices.

“I… don’t know. I’ve never been in a place like this before.”

“Well, I’m starved, so how about food?” She’s not sure if he recognizes her indecision, or if he’s genuinely just hungry, but Ashe is quite thankful as they start walking off towards the cluster of food places.

“What sort of food do ports normally have?” She’s a bit worried that her diet might be kinda… small in comparison to what the universe had to offer. Especially considering she mostly only ever ate reheated chinese or instant meals.

“Sorta depends what system you’re in?” Dakota scans over the shops as they walk, reading the names plastered on the front. While a few of them were in English, there were a few languages she either didn’t recognize or didn’t know. She only vaguely recognized a few of the signs as being in Mandarin. “Uh… elvish places normally have good mushrooms…?”

“Huh?”

“How do you feel about mushrooms?”

Ashe blinks. “They’re… fine? I can’t say I’ve had them a lot.”

“Cool.” He nods, walking quickly towards one of the restaurants. Ashe stumbles to keep up, sticking as close to Dakota as she can

The small restaurant was pretty homely looking, stylized to look much more natural. Almost tree-like. It smells faintly like rain as Dakota pushes open the door, a small silver bell above them ringing. The woman at the counter glances up, apparently not expecting customers. Which… made sense. It was a small port and there weren’t many people here. She gives them a smile.

Ashe tries not to stare at her pointed and slightly curved ears.

“Ah, welcome!” She greets them, and Ashe is thankful when Dakota steps forward to talk to her.

She seems to be thankful for him a lot recently.

“It’s like… have you ever had a Panera bread bowl?” Dakota asks, setting a bag down on their table. “It’s kinda like that. This soup is literally the best thing I’ve ever had, it sucks it’s so expensive the closer you get to Prime.”

“Do you have it a lot?” Exactly as he had described, the thing she is presented with is… well… like if a bread bowl was a mushroom. A large cap hollowed out and filled with soup. 

“Absolutely not, dude. Only when we got a big paycheck and my old crew insisted on celebrating. Hated doing it, but damn if the food wasn’t good.” His grin is warm, like a shared joke. Ashe is happy to smile back. It’s… comfortable. “But, not really. It’s one of those foods you only have every once in a while. But, the closer to Fauna you get the more likely you are to find a place like this.”

Ashe sits quietly while Dakota eats for a few minutes, sort of just… watching him. She doesn’t ask, despite the mentions of his old crew. He’d mentioned them before, several times, quite flippantly actually but- at the same time, Ashe felt like she knew nothing about them. She’s actually a bit surprised he doesn’t notice her staring. Ashe is hungry, though, and she trusts Dakota’s judgement.

The soup is good. She gets why he likes it. It’s certainly better than her largely noodle based diet.

Ashe stares down at the bowl of soup in front of her.

“...So. Your old crew?” She asks, glancing up at Dakota.

“What about them?”

“You don’t… seem to like them…?”

A small frown tugs at Dakota’s face. “I wouldn’t say that. Just… some of them were assholes. The pilot in particular. But… I knew they’d do their jobs, and I knew they’d split the pay evenly, so… I kept working with them.” He shrugs, pulling at and tearing off a piece of his now empty bowl, popping it in his mouth.

“Huh.”

It’s not that Ashe doesn’t ask, it’s just that she doesn’t press. She got the feeling he didn’t really want to talk about it. And she didn’t really want to bring the mood down any more than she already had.

“Do you think they have to-go containers?”

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > CARGO_CAMERA.RECORDING

Ashe and Dakota board, side by side, talking quietly.

ASHE: The job I’m looking at is a bit farther out- the ship’s been offline for a handful of weeks.

DAKOTA: Oh, shit, really? And no one’s picked up the job?

ASHE: Well… wildspace. Apparently they had a very competent crew, and just randomly… absolute radio silence.

DAKOTA: Cool!

Ashe gives him a sort of confused smile, not really seeing how that was cool, but glad nonetheless that he was enthusiastic. 

ASHE: Yeah, sure. If you could like- look over it? I’ll send it to you.

She didn’t wanna fuck up a second time in a row. Dakota just gives her a thumbs up.

DAKOTA: Got it, dude! I’m gonna go check on Bobo, are you good to take off on your own?

Was water wet?

ASHE: Yeah. cool. Thanks. 

DAKOTA: No problem!

As Dakota is quick to walk off into the rest of the ship, Ashe takes a deep breath. The cargo bay is cold with loneliness, but there’s something comforting about it to Ashe. It’s not quite as frigid as it’s been. She’s really glad the heating is working properly again.

The ship is not quite so cold as it’s been.

Faintly, distantly, the type of thing you’d have to strain your ears to hear-

Humming.

Soft.

Warm.

Melodic.

She writes it off as the sound of the engine underfoot.

Chapter Text

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > BRIDGE_CAMERA.RECORDING

Sitting alone in the bridge has become somewhat of a common occurrence for Ashe. Playlist playing faintly as she relaxed, surrounded by space. It was certainly nicer than her room, and had a lower chance of being interupted than the common area. Plus, with the HVAC back in working order it was just pleasantly chilling. Enough she felt comfortable in her hoodie, but wasn’t freezing despite it.

She sighs.

ASHE: How far out are we…?

Being alone in her house for so long, she had gotten more than used to talking to herself.

>35 minutes.

He knows she can’t hear him, and responds despite it.

Ashe brings up the navigation, frowning.

ASHE: 35 minutes. Great. 

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > ENGINE_CAMERA.RECORDING

DAKOTA: Hey Bobo, can you pass me that screwdriver?

Dakota hangs from one set of arms, while the other tinkered with minute issues on the ship. He knew, realistically, that one panel being slightly loose and dented wouldn’t affect the ship’s performance- but honestly? He was just looking for something to do.

Bobo scrambles up the mechanics of the ship with an almost human-like intelligence, screwdriver hugged tight to his little monkey body.

DAKOTA: Wonder how this thing got so banged up?

Unlike Ashe, he talks specifically to Bobo. Even without the expectation of response, he at least knows he’s being heard.

>last mechanic didn’t know a wrench from a power drill.

DAKOTA: Man… ship like this, can’t imagine she’s happy about being in such a dinged up condition even if it’s minimal.

The lights flicker angrily.

Dakota blinks.

DAKOTA: …sorry?

>it’s okay.

DAKOTA: Man, I thought they fixed all of that.

>they did.

Dakota shrugs, dropping from where he was hanging and brushing himself off. He turns to Bobo.

DAKOTA: Do you think Ashe is done angsting? I don’t want to interrupt her.

He laughs, quietly, picking up his flannel where it had been discarded and walking back towards the ladder into the rest of the ship. Away from the engine.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS >

>ERROR. PLEASE SELECT ACCESS DESTINATION.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS >

>ERROR. PLEASE SELECT ACCESS DESTINATION.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS >

As quickly as they had came, they left in droves. Crews at a time. He was angry, as was his right. Never with care, had his ship been treated. Perfect working order. All systems responding.

The lights flicker.

And then they don’t.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS_TERMINAL > USER_A.WINTERS > TEXT_TRANSMISSION: RECSHIP_REGISTRATION.FLORA

>This is the scrappership Winnebago, if we receive no sign of life from your ship within the next few minutes, we will be boarding.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESSING: RECSHIP_REGISTRATION.FLORA > ACCESS > BRIDGE_CAMERA.RECORDING

The bridge is empty. There is no movement. It looks entirely abandoned. 

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESSING: RECSHIP_REGISTRATION.FLORA > ACCESS > CARGO_CAMERA.RECORDING

The cargo hull is packed with destroyed crates. Destruction is strewn about the ship. Whoever wanted to get out did so in a hurry.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESSING: RECSHIP_REGISTRATION.FLORA > INTERNAL_DIAGNOSTIC.REPORT

>ERROR. RECSHIP DIAGNOSTICS NOT RECOGNIZED.

>fuck

>faunan ship

>dammit.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESSING: RECSHIP_REGISTRATION.FLORA > INTERNAL_DIAGNOSTIC.TEXT

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > TEXT_DOCUMENT: Model Unrecognized: Recreation Ship “The Flora” Internal Diagnostics Report 22123

Diagnostics.Print

Major damage sustained to engine. Maintenance required.

O2 in functioning condition. 

Temperature regulation not responding. 

Lifepod one not responding. 

Lifepod two not responding. 

Lights not responding.

Kitchen camera not responding.

shit

well that's not fucking good

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESSING: RECSHIP_REGISTRATION.FLORA > ACCESS > HALLWAY_CAMERA3.RECORDING

Dakota and Ashe walk through a hallway, side by side.

ASHE: This thing is… destroyed.

DAKOTA: Hope whatever did this is gone. Ooh, actually, I kinda wanna fight it.

ASHE: Dakota-

DAKOTA: I could win, no problem!

Ashe laughs.

ASHE: I’m sure you could, but I’d… still rather not.

Before Dakota can respond, there’s a loud crashing sound. They both look towards it, Dakota looking excited, Ashe looking concerned- and a little scared.

ASHE: I just can’t ever get what I want, can I?

They walk out of view of the camera, towards the noise.

>please tell me it isn’t

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESSING: RECSHIP_REGISTRATION.FLORA > ACCESS > KITCHEN_CAMERA.RECORDING

>ERROR. KITCHEN_CAMERA NOT RESPONDING.

>fuck

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESSING: RECSHIP_REGISTRATION.FLORA > ACCESS > FREEZER_CAMERA.RECORDING

A mostly empty freezer, with the door cracked open. Within a second, it swings open.

DAKOTA: I don’t see anything…?

>thank fuck

Ashe pokes her head in, glancing around the freezer.

ASHE: I swear it came from in here…

DAKOTA: Who knows. Man, there’s a lot of food in here.

He leaves the freezer door open, looking around the kitchen. It’s in similar disrepair to the rest of the ship, however the cabinets seem weirdly stocked as he looks through them.

ASHE: That doesn’t bode well for the last crew.

Something runs, or more accurately scurries, across the floor in front of Ashe’s feet. Within a second she’s jumped up onto the counter.

ASHE: Jesus fuck- what was that?!

DAKOTA: Holy shit! Bugrat!

He grabs something out of one of the counters, quickly getting down on the floor and holding the food out in his hands. Ashe stares at him like he’s insane. After a few seconds, a scared looking bugrat pokes its head out from under a cabinet.

DAKOTA: Hey little guy! Were you the one making all the noise?

The bugrat sniffs at Dakota’s hand, hesitantly eating what he’s held out. Dakota smiles.

DAKOTA: I used to be super obsessed with these little guys! Don’t worry he’s harmless- aren’t you, little dude?

Ashe hesitantly moves down off the counter, poking around his shoulder to look.

ASHE: That’s… not a rat.

DAKOTA: Bugrat! They’re from uh- Fauna? I think is their home planet? They’re like little pillbug armadillo guys​​!

ASHE: None of those things you said are rats.

Dakota frowns, scooping up the bugrat in his hand. It looks concerned for a second, before seeming to decide that Dakota was trustworthy.

DAKOTA: I don’t actually know why they’re called bugrats? I’m pretty sure they’re kinda rats…? But he looks like an armadillo, doesn’t he?

He holds the bugrat up to Ashe. She stares at it. It stares at her.

ASHE: I mean I guess.

DAKOTA: So.. we found the source of the noise?

ASHE: That doesn’t… seem right. That absolutely seemed like a bigger crash.

Dakota shrugs.

DAKOTA: Who knows what this guy managed to do.

Ashe is incredibly uneasy with that answer, but doesn’t say anything.

ASHE: Let's… move on from this room. This whole ship is super creepy, dude.

DAKOTA: You think every ship is creepy!

The two exit, now with their new bugrat companion.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESSING: RECSHIP_REGISTRATION.FLORA > ACCESS > HALLWAY_CAMERA4.RECORDING

ASHE: Are you gonna name him anything?

DAKOTA: Well, duh. Gotta call him something. Maybe like… Roro.

ASHE:... like Bobo, but-

DAKOTA: But rat, yeah.

They walk in silence for a second.

DAKOTA: Do you have a better name?

ASHE: Uh… r… Rathaniel?

Dakota laughs, but quickly tries to cover it.

DAKOTA: …Rathaniel?

ASHE: Look dude, names are hard-

DAKOTA: What about Doug?

Ashe stops walking, staring at the bugrat, squinting a little.

ASHE: Doug’s kind of an asshole name.

Dakota snickers.

DAKOTA: You can say that again.

He holds up the bugrat.

DAKOTA: He seems like a Doug though, doesn’t he?

ASHE: Y’know… kinda. Sure, why not.

Dakota cheers, holding up Doug the bugrat.

DAKOTA: Doug it is!

Just before they walk out of view, somewhere in the shadows, something shifts and moves, darting into another room.

>fuck

>capital f Fuck actually

>shit what room was that

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESSING: RECSHIP_REGISTRATION.FLORA > ACCESS > CREWQUARTERS_CAMERA2.RECORDING

The room is largely still, but against the wall near the door is a shadowy, tall figure. The only real indication of life is what seems like a tail, flicking quietly back and forth. The figure shifts, moving smoothly, poking their head out the door. From where they stand in the shadows, it’s hard to discern anything about them.

>oh

>fuck

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESSING: RECSHIP_REGISTRATION.FLORA > ACCESS > COMMONAREA_CAMERA.RECORDING

The common area is poorly lit, and it seems like something- or someone- has crashed into several surfaces and pieces of furniture. Ashe tries to lift up what seems like a destroyed couch, failing miserably. Dakota watches her, amused, holding Doug the bugrat close to him.

DAKOTA: Are you sure you don’t-

ASHE, STRAINED: I got it!

After a solid minute, she managed to right the furniture, leaning against it- breathing heavily.

ASHE: That was… much heavier than I expected it to be.

Dakota laughs.

DAKOTA: I offered to help!

There's a shadow that moves briefly over the door. Neither of them notice.

ASHE: I managed it on my own.

DAKOTA: It would have been easier if I-

Another crash, this time from near the doorway. Both Ashe and Dakota stop talking, and Dakota moves himself in between the source of the noise and Ashe.

DAKOTA: …Hello?

ASHE: God, please tell me it’s just another bugrat-

A tall figure in that shadows moves forward slightly, tail flicking back and forth. Their eyes reflect the dim light in the room, the only feature properly discernible.

??????: …Who are you. What are you doing here?

ASHE: Uh-

DAKOTA: My name’s Dakota! This is Ashe! Uh- is this your rat?

The figure stills.

?????: …No?

DAKOTA: Cool! Then he’s ours! His name is Doug.

ASHE: …Dakota.

She looks like she’s trying really hard not to be endeared, given the situation.

ASHE: We’re uh- we’re scrappers. We’re sorta just here to… see what's up with the ship. See if there’s anyone on it and if not… take anything useful. But it… seems like there’s someone on it…?

DAKOTA: Dude, do you seriously live like this?

Ashe laughs, mostly out of surprise.

ASHE: Dakota- you can’t just-

?????: Uh.

Attention on them again. The figure slinks back slightly, further into the shadows.

?????: Not… really. I don’t know what happened. Something attacked the ship. I was told to hide. By the time it was quiet, well…

Ashe winces.

ASHE: Shit, dude. This ship has been offline for weeks, have you just been- you’ve been alone here?

?????: Yeah.

DAKOTA: Are you hurt?

Something on the figure twitches. 

>what the fuck

?????: I don’t… think so?

ASHE: How about uh… we promise we’re not like… a threat to you. We legitimately thought there was no one on this ship. Maybe… tell us your name? Let Dakota look over you?

The figure hesitates. For a minute, it almost seems like they won’t. Then, he emerges from the dark. Tall, hunched slightly, with purple hair loose over his shoulders- he looks much less intimidating in the light. Long, elven ears twitch slightly.

?????: …My name’s Vi… uh… Vyncent.

Ashe smiles.

ASHE: It’s nice to meet you, Vyncent. Like Dakota said, I’m Ashe.

Vyncent’s tail flicks around his legs, distrust palpable. 

VYNCENT: Am I seriously the only person on the ship?

ASHE: …Yeah. Sorry. If it’s anything there’s not any like… bodies? Or blood, for that matter.

It doesn't do anything to calm Vyncent down.

VYNCENT: You got here on a ship, right?

ASHE: …Yeah?

VYNCENT: So you could… you could get me out of here, right?

DAKOTA: Absolutely.

There's no hesitation in Dakota’s statement.

DAKOTA: We’ve got plenty of empty room on the ship. You’re perfectly welcome to come with us, if you want.

Vyncent looks a little relieved.

VYNCENT: I don’t know where my family are. I want to find them and I… I can’t do that here.

DAKOTA: Cool! You’re coming with us, though. Ashe can show you back, and I’ll do one last loop of this place.

ASHE: Wait, Dakota- If there actually is still something on this ship-

DAKOTA: I’ll be fine! I’ve got Doug.

He holds the bugrat up. Ashe is very visibly uncomfortable with leaving Dakota alone on an abandoned ship, but... she knows she won’t be able to talk him out of it. She turns to Vyncent.

ASHE: C’mon. The Winnebago’s kind of a piece of shit, but it’s our piece of shit, and it’s got slightly more reliable lights.

>keyword: slightly.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > COMMONAREA_CAMERA.RECORDING

Vyncent sits quietly on the couch, a bit curled in on himself, tails flicking in the air with an annoyance. Ashe opted not to leave him alone, but still she can’t help but try to give him space, standing in the small kitchen area and glancing over towards him every once in a while. She wasn’t really sure what to do here. No amount of flight simulations could have prepared her for a real, actual living survivor.

So she waits for Dakota, and keeps an eye on Vyncent.

It doesn’t take long for Dakota to rejoin them, having already scoped out a lot of the stuff in the ship already. He’d moved a fair few supplies into their cargo bay, but for the most part… well, he wasn’t quiet sure he could disconnect anything without fucking up the whole ship. Elven make always had a sort of life to them. Every little thing interconnected. You remove one part, and well… the whole thing falls apart.

DAKOTA: Good news, I think. Neither of the lifepods were connected.

Vyncent glances up as he starts talking, like he had been so focused on something else he didn’t even notice Dakota walk in.

ASHE: Meaning…?

DAKOTA: Meaning someone got off ship.

Vyncent untenses almost immediately, eyes wide.

VYNCENT: So- that means they’re okay?

ASHE: I don’t think we can promise anything, but-

DAKOTA: But! There’s a good chance they got off the ship. 

Vyncent lets out a breath.

VYNCENT: That’s… that’s enough. I just need to find them, yeah?

The question is directed at no one.

>yeah.

No one answers.

Vyncent glances around, brows furrowed.

VYNCENT: What was…?

DAKOTA: Huh?

VYNCENT: I thought-

He stops mid sentence, then doesn’t continue.

VYNCENT: Do uh… do you have food? I haven’t exactly been able to really… cook. All things considered.

A rough transition, but on nonetheless.

Ashe is quick to leave the two, making them swear not to burn down the ship, before starting on disengaging them from the Flora and entering faster than light.

Vyncent swears he hears a humming from the engine.

Chapter Text

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > BRIDGE_CAMERA.RECORDING

VYNCENT: Hey. I’ve got a kind of weird question.

He stands anxiously in the doorway, folded in on himself.

ASHE: Shoot.

She is, as usual, sat alone in the bridge. Vyncent thinks it seems a bit lonely, sitting alone in her captain’s chair, but she doesn’t mind. The door is open, and every so often Dakota or VYncent will come by with a question or conversation. It’s more than she had back home.

VYNCENT: Do you ever- hear humming? In some rooms?

ASHE: …huh?

VYNCENT: Like-

He chews absentmindedly on the inside of his mouth, tail swishing in the air behind him. Ashe had come to acquaint that with annoyance and anxiety from Vyncent, the latter more than the former. Even though he’d only been staying with them a few days, she’d picked up on quite a few of his smaller habits. The way his ears and antenna twitched with the temperature change, or how his tail projected his feelings much more than his face.

VYNCENT: I don’t know how to describe it. It just sounds like humming.

ASHE: Maybe you’re just hearing the engine?

Vyncent frowns.

VYNCENT: Maybe.

That didn’t feel quite right, though.

ASHE: Hey, don’t worry too hard about it, ‘kay dude? Me and Kota have another job coming up- if you wanted, you could come with. We could use the extra hands.

VYNCENT: …really?

ASHE: Yeah dude! Having you with would be really useful.

She can’t help but smile a little when Vyncent’s tail slows as he thinks about it, wrapping idly around his own leg.

VYNCENT: I’ll uh… I’ll think about it?

ASHE: Sure. Just let me know at some point, alright?

He nods, before walking off into the rest of the ship. Ashe lets out a small laugh once she’s sure he’s gone, turning back to the stretching of space in front of her. Their little cobbled together crew was certainly… interesting, to say the least.

ASHE: An alien, a mutant, and a pilot walk onto a ship.

>pretty sure i’ve heard that one before.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > COMMONAREA_CAMERA.RECORDING

DAKOTA: Hey, no! C’mon-!

He runs around the couch, dodging from side to side- chasing after Doug, the bug rat.

DAKOTA: God! You’re almost as annoying as-

Doug the bug rat scurries quickly to one side, much to Dakota’s chagrin.

DAKOTA: Hey!

He almost makes chase, but a second later, from the shadows, Vyncent scoops the small thing up from the floor, grip firm around it’s little armadillo body.

VYNCENT: You have to catch them off guard.

Dakota lets out a cheer, holding out his hands to take Doug the bug rat from Vyncent’s confused hands. Willingly, he lets it go.

DAKOTA: I’m not the best at sneaking.

He grins, like it was a joke.

VYNCENT: I’ve noticed.

If it was, Vyncent doesn’t get it. Dakota laughs anyways.

DAKOTA: This little guy’s been running circles around me all morning…

VYNCENT: Why keep him then?

Dakota pauses, trying not to laugh.

DAKOTA: Y’know, I used to ask myself that all the time.

VYNCENT: Huh?

DAKOTA: Nevermind. Forget it. Serious answer- why not? I mean, poor guy had to have been so scared all alone on that ship.

He stares down at the bug rat in his hands, not noticing the ways Vyncent tenses at his words.

VYNCENT: Yeah. I guess.

DAKOTA: So did you need something?

He looks up, smiling, either not noticing or not caring as Doug the bug rat squirms out of his hands and runs off. Vyncent watches the bug rat for a second, hesitating before answering.

VYNCENT: Uh- your…

He sighs.

VYNCENT: Ashe asked me if I wanted to come with on your next job…?

DAKOTA: Oh! She did?

VYNCENT: Yeah.

DAKOTA: …and?

VYNCENT: And?

DAKOTA: Are you… gonna?

VYNCENT: I don’t know.

DAKOTA: Oh. Okay…?

VYNCENT: Yeah.

Dakota sits there quietly for a second, just standing with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, moving quietly back and forth on his heels.

VYNCENT: I don’t want to like- get in the way, y’know?

DAKOTA: You won’t. It’d be helpful to have someone else there, too. Two brains is always better than one!

VYNCENT: …you mean three?

DAKOTA: Nope.

Vyncent blinks. Dakota doesn’t elaborate.

VYNCENT: Okay, well… I’m gonna… uh… go. Now. good luck with Doug.

Dakota laughs.

DAKOTA: I’ve heard that one before.

Vyncent doesn’t even try to question that one, just walks off deeper into the ship. Away from the bridge and common area and anyone else. Everything else.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > ENGINE_CAMERA.RECORDING

Vyncent slides down the ladder, blinking at the stretching and yawning dark of the maintenance corridors. He has to bend down as he walks, but it's actually… quite peaceful? He finds. He runs his hands against the metal walls, relishing in the rivets and panels under his fingers. Finally takes a deep breath and actually breathes.

He finds his way to the engine quickly, the room opening up and finally allowing him to stand to his full high. Wires and pipes, connecting like veins and arteries. The heart of the ship. Except he knows it’s not quite like that. Prime ships weren’t as… alive as Faunan ships were. It’s just… a hunk of metal.

A very warm hunk of metal.

Vyncent settles down onto the floor in front of it, breathing slowly. Purposefully. He lets his eyes slip shut and just relaxes.

It’s quiet, but at the same time, so very loud. 

He’s alone.

Sort of, but not really. 

>yeah, i’ve been there.

His eyes snap open, wide and looking from side to side, tail flicking in the air.

VYNCENT: …hello?

He doesn’t get any response, because no one said anything in the first place. 

VYNCENT: Who- who said that?

Only the humming of the engine.

… but it’s not the sound he heard, he knows it’s not.

>…do you… mean me?

VYNCENT: Yes!

A loud thwack! as his tail hits the floor in excitement.

>you can hear me?

VYNCENT: Yes! Should I not be able to?

>no! or… at least no one else can.

VYNCENT: That… sucks.

He frowns, tail slowing it’s excited movement.

>it does.

VYNCENT: …Well… um… who… are you?

>i…

A question like that had never been asked aboard the Winnebago.

>i don’t know.

VYNCENT: Do you… have a name? At least?

>...william.

Vyncent smiles, wrapping his arms around himself, leaning forward. His eyes flicker around the engine room.

VYNCENT: It’s nice to meet you, William. I’m Vyncent.

>oh.

>it’s…

Nothing but the engine. No one doesn’t respond.

>it’s nice to meet you too, Vyncent.

VYNCENT: So… what’s… your deal? Why can’t I see you?

>i’m dead.

This time, Vyncent is the one who takes a second to respond.

VYNCENT: You’re a ghost?

>yeah.

>i guess so.

VYNCENT: You guess?

>i mean

>i don’t really know?

>all i remember is

>...

>i don't know.

VYNCENT: That's okay.

>is it?

VYNCENT: Yeah.

He smiles, a little sad.

VYNCENT: I don’t really know what happened to me either.

Thrumming, humming.

Silence.

Vyncent is alone in the room, mostly, but can’t find it in himself to be lonely.

VYNCENT: So… William. How long have you been here? On this ship?

>i’m not sure

>a while, i think.

>i’ve seen a lot.

VYNCENT: Do you see everything? Like… what we do too?

>yes.

>is that weird?

VYNCENT: A little, I’m not gonna lie.

>sorry.

VYNCENT: I mean-

He shrugs.

VYNCENT: it’s not like you can help it, right?

>i guess.

>but

>still…

VYNCENT: Well then… I forgive you.

>oh.

>okay.

Vyncent laughs quietly, smiling.

>i think you should go.

VYNCENT: What?

>on the job.

VYNCENT: Oh.

The engine room is secluded, but if you strain your ears you may be able to faintly hear the sounds of the rest of the crew on this ship, moving to and fro. The very faint bass of music from bridge, or the thud of boots against the Winnebago’s metal floor. Such an old ship, so lively. So loud are the sounds of what keeps it moving. So faint are the hums of it’s ghost, settled on the ground in front of Vyncent. Not that he would ever know that.

VYNCENT: I… I will. I think.

Not that he would ever know, William smiles.

>come back safe, okay?

Chapter Text

Smoke.

Clattering metal.

Shouting. 

The flare of pain.

He’s sure he pulled something, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He’s dragging someone along.

He doesn’t know if they’re breathing.

The last conversation they had was an argument.

He doesn’t know if he could live with himself if this was where they died.

It’d be poetic.

He doesn’t care about poetry.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > CREW2_CAMERA.RECORDING

Dakota wakes up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. He forces the blankets off of him, stumbling up so that he’s standing on weak legs in the middle of the room. It’s hot, too hot. He can’t breathe, he can’t breathe-

After a second the cold hits him, bonechilling and so very sobering.

And he can breathe again.

Dakota takes a deep breath in, forcing his eyes closed. The less sensory input the better, right? He’s pretty sure that’s a thing.

DAKOTA: Fuck.

Two pairs of arms wrap around him, trying to hug himself as tight as possible. The cold embrace of no one keeping him cool as he tries to steady his beating heart.

DAKOTA: Fuck.

He laughs, shakily.

DAKOTA: I thought I got over that.

>what, nightmares?

No one doesn’t get a response.

Once he's calmed his breathing enough that he doesn't hear his heart in his ears, Dakota sighs. He lets his arms fall, but holds a hand to his mouth as he feels the lower set meld back into his body. Fuck. He was okay. Everything was okay. 

Maybe some tea would help settle his stomach.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > COMMONAREA_CAMERA.RECORDING

Vyncent sits quietly on the kitchen counter.

He couldn't sleep.

He’d tried, he really had, but it just didn’t seem in the cards for him.

He had, briefly, considered going down to the engine and talking with William until he fell asleep, but that felt… invasive. And part of him felt like he wasn’t allowed to go back down until he’d come back from the job. Which was… stupid, he recognized that. Especially considering William saw everything on the ship.

But… still.

He was sitting here on the counters for a reason.

His gaze shoots up when he hears Dakota’s door slide open, stilling entirely. It takes Dakota a second to notice him, but when he does, the two of them just stare at each other.

VYNCENT: Uh…

DAKOTA: Can’t sleep?

He sighs, walking into the kitchen and opening a cabinet at random, squinting in the dark.

VYNCENT: …yeah. You? 

DAKOTA: Nightmares.

VYNCENT: Oh. Sorry. 

Dakota laughs, reaching past Vyncent for a mug.

DAKOTA: You’re fine? It’s nothing important, don’t worry.

>liar.

Vyncent blinks.

VYNCENT: Do you… wanna talk about it?

He stares down at his mug, a tea bag sitting at the bottom. Vyncent almost doesn’t expect a response. But after a minute, he moves again- walking over to the sink.

DAKOTA: Nah. Something that happened a while ago. Like I said, it’s not a big deal.

VYNCENT: …okay.

DAKOTA: I’m being serious.

VYNCENT: I know. I believe you, dude.

DAKOTA: Okay. Cool. 

VYNCENT: Are you just… shoving that in the microwave?

DAKOTA: Yeah?

Vyncent furrows his brows as Dakota does exactly like he said, setting his mug in the microwave.

>weirdo.

Vyncent laughs, caught off guard, bringing a hand to his mouth.

DAKOTA: What? Is there something wrong with the way I make tea?

VYNCENT: No! No- just… don’t you have a kettle or something?

Dakota frowns, glancing around the kitchen.

DAKOTA: If we do, it’s Ashe’s.

VYNCENT: Ah.

To say the ship is ever silent would be a lie. The ship is very loud, a fact which has been thoroughly established. But there’s quiet in the lack of speech, and in the dead of the night, which doesn’t really exist out here in space. It was a silence the crew had almost started to grow comfortable with. Something not quite as lonely.

DAKOTA: It was um- something that happened. To my old crew.

Vyncent doesn't say anything, part out of worry that Dakota would stop talking.

DAKOTA: The ship was a piece of shit. Much worse than this one. Wiring was all out of wack, and the engine was a ticking time bomb.

VYNCENT: Did it… well…?

DAKOTA: The Inferno went up in flames.

He would've been happier to see it go when it had exploded. Except, well-

Blood seeping into blonde hair. A half remembered CPR class. Desperate pleading; please, God, don't let the last thing I said to him be that-

The sound of the microwave going off startles them both.

DAKOTA: Shit. God. That scared me.

The moment is over, as Dakota carefully takes his tea out of the microwave. He doesn't even know why he told Vyncent all that. Trying to talk about it in any other circumstance was like trying to pull teeth.

Maybe it was because he asked.

Maybe it was because he hadn't tried to push it. 

He leaves it on the counter to cool down. Dakota's not exactly in the mood to burn his fingerprints off.

VYNCENT: I miss home.

DAKOTA: …that makes sense?

Vyncent shrugs.

VYNCENT: I don't know. I just… can't sleep. And it makes me wish I was back home, in my own bed.

DAKOTA: …yeah. I get that.

Except his wasn't one he got to go back to, was it?

DAKOTA: We'll help you find your family and get home. 

VYNCENT: I know.

DAKOTA: I promise, dude.

Vyncent smiles at him, gently hitting him in the arm with his tail.

VYNCENT: I know. I believe you, Dakota.

DAKOTA: I just wanna make sure!

He laughs, finally picking up his tea and taking a tentative sip. It was alright. He wasn't exactly a tea connoisseur. He just knew it tasted like better times and it made him not feel like he was about to throw up.

DAKOTA: Are you coming with in the morning?

VYNCENT: Yeah. If I can get any sleep.

DAKOTA: Awesome.

VYNCENT: Is it?

DAKOTA: Not the sleep thing. The fact that you're coming with. 

Vyncent laughs, smiling fondly as Dakota downs the rest of his tea in one drink. It'd be impressive if he hadn't seen the speed at which Dakota managed to slam back takeout leftovers. There's a sigh of content Dakota lets out once he's done, hands wrapped around the still warm mug.

DAKOTA: We should both try to sleep again.

VYNCENT: You think?

Dakota nods. Neither of them move.

VYNCENT: I don't think I want to be alone.

He says it quietly, still curled up on the counter. Dakota hums, thinking it over for a second. Look… he knows he's not a smart guy, okay? But he'd like to think he had the experience to make up for it.

DAKOTA: Kitchen's not much for sleep. If you want, we could both take the couch?

VYNCENT: That… would be nice.

He slowly uncurls, sliding off the counter and landing on the ground with barely a small thud. He's a bit of a marvel to Dakota, honestly. All that height and he barely made a sound when he moved.

DAKOTA: There should be room for us to both fell asleep, but if you want to actually lay down, I could-

VYNCENT: Dakota, please tell me you're not about to suggest you sleep on the floor?

DAKOTA: …I was just being polite. 

Vyncent laughs at that, settling down onto the couch. There were a handful of blankets and pillows set onto it, and more than enough room and Dakota flopped down next to him.  Vyncent spends a few seconds moving around the blankets around him, forming an almost nest out of habit.

Dakota watches him, utterly fascinated. Vyncent glances up.

VYNCENT: What?

DAKOTA: I have no idea what you're doing.

VYNCENT: …getting comfortable.

He lays back as best he can, staring at Dakota for another second before closing his eyes, as if to ignore him. Dakota glances away, fiddling with his nails for a second before relaxing back into the couch cushion. He had no intention of mentioning it, but honestly, sitting here, hearing Vyncent's shallow breathing as he slowly fell asleep… It was comforting. It was nice, not being alone in his room.

He closes his eyes and falls asleep to the hum of the engine and Vyncent's even breath.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > CARGO_CAMERA.RECORDING

ASHE: You two are fucking insane.

She’s out of breath, leaning on what looks like a large AC unit. Dakota laughs, loud and clear, filling the empty air of the bay.

DAKOTA: I think you just need to work out more!

ASHE: Nope. No, absolutely not.

They’d been hauling these units out of their most recent job. Having Vyncent to help had made the entire process go much faster, especially considering how much stronger than Ashe he was. It had been… nice. Working on a team. Together. 

VYNCENT: There’s one more back there, but this is probably… more than enough…?

He glanced around at the three they had hauled.

ASHE: I don’t really know how much these ship HVAC units normally go for-

>probably around 3,000 credits.

The information is probably for naught, said into the void with no one to hear-

VYNCENT: Like three thousand normally.

>oh. thanks. 

The cargo bay falls silent for a second, save the sound of Dakota mumbling under his breath while he tries to calculate simple math.

>c’mon kota. it’s 3x3. it’s a square root.

DAKOTA: So we have- this is nine thousand credits?

VYNCENT: …so are we going back for-

DAKOTA: Yes! We’re going back for the last unit!

He’s practically vibrating, bouncing from foot to foot as he tries, a bit in vain, so run the calculations in his head. They'd already more or less figured out how they were budgeting, but then they picked up a whole other person. This would give them a lot more money to play around with. Wiggle room. Freedom. 

Isn’t that what this was all about?

Ashe sighs, affection clear.

ASHE: C’mon then. Back to the ship.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > BRIDGE_CAMERA.RECORDING

DAKOTA: That's- this is a lot of money to have just… extra. Right?

ASHE: I mean I don't want to count our chickens before the hatch, but… yeah. Yeah it is.

They're sat side by side in the bridge, Ashe in the same chair as always, and Dakota cross legged in the other. He's drumming on his knees, eyes flickering open and shut, like he can't decide which to go for. Sitting in the bridge wasn't something he did very often.

DAKOTA: It feels like something has to go wrong, right?

ASHE: Yeah.

DAKOTA: Like- something. Too much has gone right.

They sit in it for a second. Both waiting for something to happen. 

ASHE: Most of it should go to the ship, right? There's gotta be some stuff that we need to upgrade that's like- expensive.

DAKOTA: Right. Yeah.

ASHE: I don't know ships, so-

DAKOT: I'll go through and like- make a… list?

ASHE: …a list?

DAKOTA: Yeah.

>god, you're both such dorks.

ASHE: Okay. Cool. Your list.

DAKOTA: My list.

ASHE: Yeah. 

Dakota makes no move to get up.

DAKOTA: I might uh… I'll do that in a minute.

Ashe glances over.

DAKOTA: …this is nice.

ASHE: Yeah.

She looks back to space, relaxing a bit.

ASHE: It is.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > ENGINE_CAMERA.RECORDING

Vyncent walks through the hall, ducking into the engine room. He stretches out, relaxing into the heat of the room. He glances around, blinking. It wasn't like he had much to look for.

>hey vyn.

He smiles, tail swaying happily.

VYNCENT: Will! Hi!

>you came back.

VYNCENT: I said I would.

> ...i suppose you did.

VYNCENT: I went on the job.

>i saw.

VYNCENT: It was…

He doesn't really know how to describe it.

VYNCENT: It was certainly something.

>something good?

VYNCENT: Yeah. I think so.

>that's good. i'm glad.

VYNCENT: Me too, I think.

>...thank you

>by the way.

>for communicating for me

VYNCENT: What, in the cargo bay?

>yeah.

VYNCENT: …It was nothing, dude.

>it was important

>to me.

>so

>thanks.

Vyncent smiles.

VYNCENT: Okay. If you say so.

>i do.

Chapter Text

Vyncent looks around the port with a caution, tail flicking anxiously behind him. It’d almost be funny, if it weren't for the fact that Ashe was feeling pretty much the same way.

The port was a larger one, larger than one Ashe had ever been in. It was loud, too. She couldn’t imagine what it was like for Dakota or Vyncent. She was trying her hardest to relax, but with the amount of people they were met with after they left the hangar… well, she was really considering just staying on the ship. From the looks of it, Vyncent was too. He didn’t say anything, though. Just standing there, tense and poorly masking over it. Ashe looked over to Dakota, seeing his eyes flick from person to person. Despite the smile on his face, and the relaxation to his posture, she could see what she thought was maybe panic catch the light, quickly buried as he blinked and cleared his throat.

“We don’t need to restock on much so we shouldn’t need to be off ship for too long,” he starts walking, gesturing for them to follow. “But… we should take advantage of the non-frozen food while we can. Ooh, maybe we can pick up some fruit while we’re here too.”

“What type of fruit?” Vyncent asks, eyeing every person who passes them as they walk down the ‘street.’

“We’re a bit far out from either of our home planets, so… who knows! This isn’t an area I’m super familiar with.” The sentence was the opposite of reassuring.

Ashe tries to force herself to breathe. It wasn’t like ports were ever particularly dangerous, especially not ones as large as this one. This was just… normal person shit. And she could handle normal person shit. …probably. “Have you been here before?” She asks, more to distract herself.

“Once, I think. A while ago, it wasn’t one that we went to often. Tried to uh… avoid more populated ports.” Ashe is pretty sure the word he means isn’t populated- but honestly, even if it was she could see it. “And this is the largest a port can get before it has to be classified as a rec station.”

That seemed to pique Vyncent’s interest. “Is that… the difference? Just size? I didn’t know that.”

“Well- okay, yes and no.” Dakota seems to relax as he talks. “Way I was told it, all rec stations are ports, but not all ports are rec stations, y’know? After a certain point a port needs some form of government regulation in accordance with whatever system it’s in. When crew and repair stops being the focus is normally when WATCH steps in.” 

“Oh. Which is why it’s-”

“A recreation station, yeah, instead of a maintenance port.”

“Huh.” He pauses. “So, wait, then why-”

Before he can finish, Dakota’s wide eyed, whispering a small “Shit-!” and grabbing Ashe by the wrist, ducking into the closest shop nearby. She doesn’t even get the opportunity to see what they’re hiding from before Dakota’s dragged them deep into the shop, breathing a bit heavily. The shop is apparently a spare parts place, and much darker than several of the other buildings- tall rows of old ship scraps. 

“God.” Dakota says, sounding a bit miserable. “They’re like the fucking mormons of space.”

“Who?” Vyncent asks, causing Ashe to nearly jump out of her skin. Fuck. She had not seen him come in behind them. Dakota on the other hand seemed entirely unphazed, just sighing.

“Pilot recruiters. Big reason I don’t like going to bigger ports- they’re around every fucking corner. Easier to just try and hide from them.”

“...huh?”

“They’re- they recruit for government pilot programs. Just uh- trust me on this one. The programs suck ass.”

Huh. Well, Ashe could analyze that later. For now, she takes a glance around the shop- trying to figure out where they've ended up. It feels a bit like some of the secondhand stores she had been in on Prime, dim, tightly placed shelves stacked with hunks of metal that might have once been accelerators and engines. “Well at least this place is… interesting?”

“Oh!” Almost like he hadn’t noticed where they were before, Dakota does a spin around. “Yeah! Oh, dude, I used to love places like this!”

“...secondhand ship parts?” Vyncent asks, looking a bit confused as he poked around at  some of the stuff. Ashe wondered if he had seen this type of shop before.

“They’re good for picking up pieces cheap- especially when you know exactly what you want.” Excitedly, Dakota explained. “Oh, man, I didn’t think a port this big would have a place like this!”

It's a little funny how much the three of them seem to relax in quite possibly the shadiest store they had passed. Vyncent had started to stand just a little bit straighter, Dakota looking around more energeticly- two pairs of eyes scanning the parts displayed. Ashe herself couldn’t even say the sudden lack of people and light wasn’t a relief. This was nice. Familiar. She got the feeling it felt the same to the rest of her… companions? Team? Crew? She wasn’t sure she had the right to call them her crew, but it was the most accurate term.

“Well… do we need anything?” Ashe asks, and Dakota shakes his head.

“Winnebago should be in pretty much perfect condition- though, I wouldn’t mind having a few spares lying around if you see anything that looks familiar.”

She wasn’t going to be the one to tell him that none of this looked familiar to her, even in the slightest, and with how melted and jagged some of the parts were, she doubted many of them were even actually useful to anyone anymore. 

As they explored they had found themselves in a much larger area of the store, a sort of scrapyard back area filled with much larger parts. Vyncent had snuck off around then, barely mumbling something before slinking into the shadows. Ashe was worried… but she trusted him to know his way back to the ship. And Dakota hadn’t exactly seemed to notice, too busy as Ashe followed behind him and he excitedly explained how certain parts attacked, or why that Manan style engine was so rusted, or that large chunk of metal with handles was actually from this really cool planet that had a specific coal-like mineral they powered their ships with, or why she probably should stay away from that Prevarian thruster because some of the ships from that area had the blast power of a small star and liked to be equally as radioactive.

“Fuck, some of these I haven’t seen except in like- old ship magazines!” Dakota grinned, rounding a corner- then suddenly stopping. Ashe bumps into him as he does, instantly concerned as he goes quiet.

“Dakota?”

“Holy shit.” He rushes over to a particularly large piece, scratched up like hell but in actually pretty good condition compared to the other things she had seen so far. 

“What is it?” She leans over him just slightly, trying to get a look for any type of label or tag. Ashe is… pretty sure it’s some sort of engine? But she’s not confident.

“It’s uh- it’s a Blackwood fighter jet engine.” Vindication. “I used to work maintenance on one of these. Normally the engine stays with the ship until she goes down, honestly, these things are impressive. I’m surprised it’s just… sitting here.”

“Maybe there’s something wrong with it?”

Dakota hums, going eerily quiet as he looks over the thing. Ashe can’t help but smile at the way his eyes are wide, all visible sets opened and scanning. “I’d have to actually take a look at the insides but- normally when Blackwood engines fail, they fail catastrophically. Like- the whole ship blows up. This is- this just wouldn’t happen.”

“So either this is a bomb, or someone just like- upgraded?”

“...maybe?” he furrows his brows, a frown tugging at his face. Like the engine in front of him was a puzzle he had just too few pieces for. 

“You could ask the shopkeep?” She suggests, not sure how much it will actually help.

Dakota shakes his head, almost forcing himself to relax as he turns to Ashe with a slight grin. “Nah, it’s just weird. Not like I’m planning on buying it, anyway.”

It sucks moving on from where they were- but Ashe knows that even if she keeps asking, the moment’s kinda passed. No matter how much she’d much rather sit and listen to Dakota talk about engines with that wide-eyed passion. It always felt so much more… real. Maybe she was reading too far in but… she didn’t know. It just felt different sometimes. In a good way. Made her sort of sad when they went back. Maybe she just wasn't being a good enough… captain? Pilot? Friend? None of those were things she had much actual experience with.

“Hey, where’d Vyncent go?”

They find him crouched outside of a restaurant, thumbing through a pamphlet. As they get closer, Dakota’s expression sours in recognition. “Whatcha got there?”

“Was curious so I stole one. Wanted to know what they were about beyond ‘they suck.”” Vyncent shrugs. “It’s kinda shit. I can see the legal loopholes from here.”

Dakota quietly takes the pamphlet, scanning over it. “Same as ever. I think their pitch actually got worse.”

“So what's up with these guys?”

“They just…” Dakota pauses, thinking. Or at least Ashe is pretty sure he's thinking. “They just suck? I knew someone who was in one of the government pilot programs and she… it fucked her up.” He winces slightly, handing the pamphlet back to Vyncent. “She's better now. Or… at least she was the last time I talked to her? Which… was a while ago.” 

“Oh. Huh. That sucks.” Vyncent comments, a little blankly.

“So why'd you walk off?” Dakota asks, quick to change the topic.

“Seeing all those ship parts freaked me out a little. They were in such disrepair… I don't know. It made me uncomfortable.”

“Makes sense, Faunan ships are like… alive, right?”

Vyncent shrugs. “Kind of? I dunno if that's it, but… maybe.”

For a second there's a sort of silence. A pause. Then, Dakota speaks. “So what's this restaurant?”

It's a rough transition- and Ashe glances over to Vyncent briefly to try and figure out if they were really gonna just… move on? But he doesn't meet her gaze, and so she's left to choose on her own. So along with it she goes. “I don't really recognize it?”

“Feeling adventurous?” 

“Not even a little.” She offers a hand down to Vyncent, helping him stand up. “C'mon, let's check it out.”

Next to her, Dakota cheers, and she hears Vyncent laugh quietly. And for a second Ashe feels… right. Like she's meant to be precisely where she was.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > BRIDGE_CAMERA.RECORDING

ASHE: So… pilot programs?

Dakota sighs. The two of them were sat in the bridge in their respective chairs. Ashe didn't exactly know when they had become ‘their’ chairs, but it felt… right. Like a piece of the puzzle had found it's place. Vyncent had slunk off shortly after they came onship, and she hadn't really made much comment. Honestly, that port had been… a bit much. A lot.

DAKOTA: I'm guessing there's no way for me to get out of this one?

ASHE: I mean- if you really don't want to…

Dakota frowns slightly to himself, legs brought up to his chest. There was a sort of far off look in his eyes, staring out into the stars. Ashe can't help but be struck by the thought that he looks incredibly pretty like this.

DAKOTA: Nah, it's okay. 

ASHE: Oh. Okay.

She's not sure what to ask now. She wasn’t expecting to get this far.

ASHE: So uh- what are they?

DAKOTA: What, the pilot programs? They're basically like… government training programs aimed at fresh out of school teens generally. They promise shit like piloting experience, and like… benefits? I dunno, most of what I know is secondhand.

ASHE: Yeah, you said a friend of yours was in them?

DAKOTA: …friend is a bit generous but… yeah. I think there's like… laws about it now. But when she was in them, there weren't exactly… regulations?

Ashe holds her breath, listening intently as Dakota relaxes- naturally, for once, a small frown still on his face.

DAKOTA: Pilots have to stay in their fighters for long periods of time, so they can't get hungry- which the programs solved with medication. But then those cause more problems which they solved with more pills- and then you've got a bunch of addict pilots being dumped out of the programs. And they're good pilots, but they're barely people.

Ah. Ashe doesn't know how to respond to that.

DAKOTA: They're… better now. I think. There's laws n’ shit in place now. But it was bad.

ASHE: And… your friend?

DAKOTA: Like I said. She's… better. I think. It's been a while since I've talked to her.

ASHE: Why?

DAKOTA: Long story. It doesn't really matter, anyway.

He turns to Ashe with a smile, and hesitantly, she smiles back. Takes that as her cue not to ask.

DAKOTA: She's got a good crew. I trust them to take care of her. Not nearly as good as us, of course.

Ashe laughs.

ASHE: Of course.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > ENGINE_CAMERA.RECORDING

VYNCENT, LOUDLY: Will?

>i can hear you just fine, dude.

Vyncent smiles the second he hears William’s voice.

VYNCENT: Sorry. Habit, I guess.

>did you have to call out for people on your old ship a lot?

He could say ‘on the Flora’ but it feels almost… too personal. Vyncentt nods, though, settles into the same spot on the floor he had been, up against the warmth of the engine- what little he could safely touch. Will  had been a bit worried at first, knowing how hot the internals of the ship ran, but Vyncent seemed more than fine. Almost seemed comfortable, leaned up against something so personal to the ship.

VYNCENT: It was a big ship, and the Greats liked to carve out their own alcoves and hiding spots. Strider and Min especially.

There’s a fondness to his smile, tainted by a twinge of sadness. Melancholy. 

>we’ll help you find them.

VYNCENT: I know. It’s just… hard. I don’t know where they are, or what happened to them… fuck, I don’t even really know where we are. This is the farthest I’ve ever been from home.

>and every second we get farther…

VYNCENT: …yeah.

He sits in the quiet silence of the loud of the ship, letting out a small sigh.

VYNCENT: Do you… miss your home?

>i think i do? it’s hard to remember it. 

>it’s hard to remember anything, actually.

VYNCENT: Yeah, you mentioned… do you… think I can help at all?

>i…

>

>i don’t know.

>but

>i think i feel more like a person when i talk to you.

>does that make sense?

>like… you make me feel…

>real.

VYNCENT: Oh.

>is that weird?

VYNCENT: I don’t think so.

He smiles. He kinda got it, in a way. It was hard to remember who you are when there was no one else to remember you. Far too easy to let it all go to the wayside.

VYNCENT: If you just want me to keep showing up, and talking to you, and talking for you… I’m more than happy to.

>you are?

VYNCENT: What are friends for?

>oh.

>what are you getting out of this?

VYNCENT: Getting to know you, I guess? Another person to watch my back?

>i see.

VYNCENT: Like I said. We’re friends now, okay? Friends look out for each other, right?

>yeah.

>yeah, you’re right.

>thank you, vyncent.

VYNCENT: You don’t have to thank me.

>i know. but i want to.

Vyncent smiles, laughing quietly to himself, and to no one else.

VYNCENT: Okay then. Whatever you say, William. You’re welcome.

>you should get some sleep.

VYNCENT: Wow, kicking me out?

>yep. now shoo, go rest.

Laughing, Vyncent stands, stretching.

VYNCENT: As you wish.

>they shouldn’t have shown you the princess bride. dork.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > CREW2_CAMERA.RECORDING

Dakota sits quietly at his desk, quietly fiddling with a small broken machine part. It wasn’t part of the Winnebago, just something small he had picked up off one of their jobs. Scrap. But he liked to fidget with it, so it had gotten a home in his room. A knock  at his door gives him a small jolt, sitting up in his chair.

DAKOTA: Yeah?

VYNCENT: It’s me.

DAKOTA: Oh!

He sets the scrap down on the desk, quickly standing and opening the door. Vyncent’s anxious figure greets him, hunched over to make his way through the door.

VYNCENT: Sorry to… bug you. but my ‘room’ was… too much. So I was wondering… if I could like- stay in here? With you?

DAKOTA: What, like the other night? Sure. 

VYNCENT: Wait, really?

DAKOTA: Yeah man, I get it. Sucks. If you wanna hang out in my room, feel free. I don’t mind.

Vyncent visibly relaxes, untensing.

VYNCENT: Okay. Cool. Sorry.

DAKOTA: All good, man! 

He sits awkwardly on the end of Dakota’s bed, hesitantly reaching up to brush out his hair, hands tugging at the messy braid he had put it in.

VYNCENT: Thanks. It’s weird. Being here. It’s… really different.

Dakota shrugs, sitting down next to him. He’s warm, Vyncent finds. Not that he didn’t already know, he just… couldn’t say he’d paid attention to it before. Always too busy thinking about something else.

DAKOTA: It sucks suddenly being somewhere you don’t know. Sucks worse when you don’t know what’s going on. Me and Ashe are here for you though, dude. I know it’s a lot, asking you to just… trust us. But… trust us, okay? We’ll help you find your family.

He smiles, something genuine, something real, something… something a bit like freedom. Vyncent smiles back. Something about how sure Dakota sounds, it’s reassuring. Makes him nod and relax.

VYNCENT: I believe you. And I trust you. I promise.

Even if he’s not completely convinced, the way Dakota lights up is worth it.

Chapter Text

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > COMMONAREA_CAMERA.RECORDING

‘Early morning’ can’t exactly exist while off-planet, what without time really having much weight besides what was assigned to it, but somehow the Winnebago still manages to have a quiet early morning.

Vyncent had been, pretty consistently, the first one up. Out of the three of them, he slept less than Dakota, who definitely slept less than Ashe. While he wasn’t exactly sure if it was a species thing, or something else entirely, it was certainly convenient. 

He liked it, being able to slip out of Dakota's room and into the kitchen, settling quietly into the thrum of the ship, making food and being sure that if he just waited long enough, he would hear the mechanical slide of Dakota’s door opening, and smile and offer a bit of whatever he’d thrown himself together.

Then he’d sit quietly, enjoying watching Dakota go about his morning- normally he’d have something to eat, maybe chat for a bit with him and Bobo. Vyncent liked how Dakota treated Bobo like part of the crew, how just as many questions were directed to the spider monkey as were him. 

Then he'd always go down into the cargo bay, stretching, making due with what little they had on the ship to- train? Vyncent couldn’t say he was exactly sure what Dakota was really doing… only that it was entertaining to watch.

Ashe was normally up before Dakota was done, and Vyncent would go back to the kitchen to talk to her- make some joke about Dakota’s routine that she’d snort at, waves of curls falling around each other as she shook her head and made some still tired comment about him being insane. Her voice was always pleasantly gravely in the morning, the same as when Vyncent would come up late at ‘night’ and join her in the bridge.

This morning was more of the same, with Vyncent cross legged on the counter, a bowl of some sort of melon that they’d gotten from the last port in his lap, and Ashe tiredly stirring a cup of instant noodles with a plastic fork. Which was weird. Because they had metal forks.

VYNCENT: Job soon, right?

The melon had a sort of sweet taste to it, one that lingered. Ashe had brought up the job yesterday, mentioning it to Dakota in passing and getting a silent thumbs up as he hadn’t looked up from whatever he was doing. Part of Vyncent had felt a bit like he was staring through a layer of glass, right until Dakota had turned to him and asked if he knew how to play old DS games.

Ashe blinked, glancing up at him.

ASHE: Huh? Oh, yeah. You’re coming with again, right?

VYNCENT: I… had hoped to.

ASHE: Oh- I just- wanted to make sure, y’know?

VYNCENT: Right.

>you’re doing great.

Vyncent snorts, and trusts Ashe to not pay him much attention as she scowls down into her noodles.

Vyncent’s ears twitch with the subtle shake of the metal plating on the floor, and he glances up towards the common area doorway, watching as Dakota enters. He yawns, stretching as he enters the- if they were all being honest, living room. It felt a bit weird calling it a common area, honestly. Like… sure, it included the kitchen, but- 

Whatever. That didn’t matter. Dakota yawns, stretches, and enters the common area, grabbing Ashe’s attention as he does.

DAKOTA: Shit.

It’s muttered mostly to himself, but Dakota was never very good at going unheard.

ASHE: You good?

DAKOTA: Huh? Oh! No, yeah, I’m good! My back hurts, that’s all. Y’know how working out is.

He shrugs, and smiles, and falls down onto the couch- and he goes unscrutinized only by the two occupants of the room.

ASHE: I don’t actually.

VYNCENT: We can tell.

She slowly looks up at him, deadpan making eye contact for a few seconds.

DAKOTA: You could always get up early and work out with me?

ASHE: Fuck no.

Dakota laughs.

DAKOTA: So how far out from the job are we?

ASHE: I’ll check in a minute, I gotta…

She turns back to her untouched noodles, blinking.

ASHE: …breakfast.

And quiet, like a warm blanket, settled back over the common area. Laying there comfortably, heavy in the tired air.

Vyncent likes it. He likes it a lot.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > CREW2_CAMERA.RECORDING

ASHE: Hey, so-

Ashe invites herself into Dakota’s room (not that she was unwelcome) quickly leaning against the door, pausing when she glances up to see Vyncent curled in on himself, laying on Dakota’s bed, in addition to Dakota sitting, spinning back and forth in his chair as he chatters. Dakota smiles at her.

ASHE: Oh. Hi Vyncent.

He waves quietly.

VYNCENT: Do you need me to leave?

ASHE: No? Why would I?

Vyncent doesn’t say what comes to mind, which was that he wasn’t really part of the crew. Just shrugs.

VYNCENT: Polite to ask.

ASHE: Nah, you being here is actually pretty helpful. We’re about 20 minutes out from the job, give or take, but we’re pretty far from the nearest port, so once we’re done we’re gonna be on ship for a bit longer than normal. Is uh- is that… alright?

DAKOTA: I mean, not much we can do about it. 

She nods.

ASHE: Yeah, just figured I’d mention it.

She makes a brief glance around the room before taking her leave, and Vyncent’s a little remiss to see her go.

DAKOTA: Y’know, I did not miss the waiting.

VYNCENT: Hm?

DAKOTA: I mean- anything’s better than retail.

He says it, deathly serious.

DAKOTA: But I forgot how boring it was between jobs.

VYNCENT: I mean… maybe you just need to find stuff to do? Like… hobbies. I’ve been learning chess.

DAKOTA: Why chess?

>rude.

>i like chess.

Vyncent smiles.

VYNCENT: It- it’s just… fun?

DAKOTA: I… guess? It just seems really complicated to me.

VYNCENT: That’s why I like it. It’s satisfying. Especially when you win.

>dick.

Vyncent smiles a bit wider.

DAKOTA: Maybe. Ooh- we should try and pick up like… cards or something. Do you know how to play blackjack?

VYNCENT: …no?

DAKOTA: Me either!

>then why would you ask?

VYNCENT: We could… learn together, then? I guess?

>it's not a hard game to learn, just- why ask if you dint know how to play??

DAKOTA: Fuck yeah, man. Next port we stop at, let's see if we can pick up like a deck of cards or something. At least something we can do together, y’know? As a crew. 

As a crew. The sentence settles oddly in the air. 

A crew. A crew that included Vyncent.

What a thought.

VYNCENT: Yeah. Sounds fun. Do y’think I can get a nap in before we get there?

DAKOTA: Probably! I'll wake you up, don't worry.

Vyncent wasn't sure he was worried in the first place.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS_TERMINAL > USER_D.COLE > TEXT_TRANSMISSION: CARGOSHIP_REGISTRATION.ANTIPATHARIA

>This is the winnebago!! Respond now or be boarded and scrapped :)

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESSING: CARGOSHIP_REGISTRATION.ANTIPATHARIA > ACCESS > CARGOCAMERA.LIQ.RECORING

Dakota whistles as they enter the ship’s cargo bay, neatly stacked containers lining the walls. Resting quietly on his shoulders, Bobo lays, almost like a weird grey and black scarf.

VYNCENT: …something’s wrong.

DAKOTA: No shit, whoever did this must have been incompetent as hell- look at all this fuckin’ cargo, man!

He turns to Ashe, excitedly. She just laughs, nodding.

VYNCENT: This is- this is weird, right?

DAKOTA: Oh, absolutely. 

Much to Vyncent’s dismay, instead of elaborating, he starts poking around the containers, squinting at some of the labels.

DAKOTA: I… can’t read these.

Ashe pokes her head over his shoulder.

ASHE: Huh. I was expecting at least another language. That’s just- plain English, dude.

DAKOTA: Reading is hard!

ASHE: I- y’know what? Sure, dude.

Vyncent watches them quietly, suddenly yearning for the cold humming of the engine.

ASHE: Hey Vync, can you- actually, can you read these?

VYNCENT: Physically? Or can I read English?

ASHE: Both.

He’s hesitant in his approach, but takes a brief glance over a few of the labels.

VYNCENT: Oh. Common. Yes. 

DAKOTA: The handwriting is bad. They’re hard to read.

VYNCENT: It's… not horrible? Kinda just a little messy.

DAKOTA: Dude! You were supposed to be on my side!

VYNCENT: I- was?

DAKOTA: Yeah!

Ashe laughs quietly, covering her face.

ASHE: Fuckin'- ignore him, okay? Seems like most of the cargo is intact but I doubt much of it is useful to us…

VYNCENT: Especially considering how much of it there is? I think you could fit the entire Winnebago in this cargo bay.

DAKOTA: Yeah, about an entire scrapper class ship and like… five fighter jets.

ASHE: Five feels like a bit much?

He pauses to think, committing far too much brain power to this hypothetical.

DAKOTA: Okay… maybe not five. Three? Two? At least a Winnebago plus one.

VYNCENT: Winnebago and a half?

DAKOTA: Half a Winnebago or half a fighter jet?

ASHE: Half by what metric?

>you're really entertaining this?

VYNCENT: Okay, what do you mean by that?

ASHE: Well like- length wise? Width? Half wide or half long? Does that change the answer?

>guys

>your job

DAKOTA: I don't think it would change the answer? And, it still matters if we're talking a fighter jet or a Winnebago I think?

>...

VYNCENT: Lets just say it's and one and a half Winnebago- Winnebagi?

ASHE: That cannot be the next line of conversation- okay, so this cargo?

DAKORA: Right! The cargo!

He claps, and it echoes off the many containers.

DAKOTA: This is a big fucking ship! So I'm gonna go poke around the engine room, and you guys look for something we have the room to pawn, okay?

Ashe sighs, affectionate, the whispers of a smile tugging at her mouth.

ASHE: Stay safe.

VYNCENT: Don't pick up any ghosts.

DAKOTA: No promises!

>i'll throw a fit if you bring another ghost on the ship, accident or no.

Dakota spins around, picking a random direction and walking in it. He'd find a maintenance hatch eventually. Probably. Ashe watches him go for a minute, before turning to Vyncent.

ASHE: So. Where do we start?

VYNCENT: …bridge?

ASHE: Cool.

Neither of them move.

ASHE: Where's the bridge?

Vyncent laughs.

VYNCENT: Let's just wander until we find something?

ASHE: Sounds like a plan to me.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESSING: CARGOSHIP_REGISTRATION.ANTIPATHARIA > ACCESS > HALL3CAMERA.LIQ.RECORING

Ashe and Vyncent walk down a long hall, side by side. It’s quiet- and were they any other two people, it might have been a bit awkward. But Vyncent liked the silence, and Ashe was certainly used to it.

VYNCENT: So… 

Finally, he says, turning to briefly look at her.

VYNCENT: Do you know what type of ship this is?

ASHE: Oh, Dakota is normally the one with ship facts… I think the listing said it was… Manan?

Vyncent’s ears flick ever so slightly, tail halting movement for a second in surprise.

VYNCENT: Oh! I thought it was familiar looking.

ASHE: You know much about Manan ships?

VYNCENT: Yeah. Strider once had me help him work on one from Edison Kingdom.

Ashe considers, briefly, asking who Strider is. But part of her worries about breaking the moment, about losing the opportunity to learn more about Vyncent.

ASHE: Can you tell me more about them, then? I remember Dakota mentioned while we were at the shop that a lot of Manan engines that are sold in like ports and stuff are super rusted because of the uh… water.

VYNCENT: …the water?

ASHE: Yeah, the water.

He snickers.

VYNCENT: Yep. The water.

ASHE: Fuck off, dude. The water.

VYNCENT: I’m gonna assume you mean the whole ‘space ships turning into water ships’ thing?

ASHE: Yeah, that. The water.

VYNCENT: Yeah, it’s pretty cool, actually. This whole ship could just plop down into the ocean. Probably has external panels hiding oars… at least, the one we worked on did. It was really cool.

ASHE: So do the panels just like- flip around? And then there’s oars?

VYNCENT: Basically! When your planet is like… almost exclusively water, it makes sense, though.

ASHE: Well- Prime is like… seventy percent water? I think? And we don’t do that.

VYNCENT: Wait, actually?

ASHE: Yeah? I mean, the number probably isn’t like- it’s not seventy exactly but-

>71%, actually.

VYNCENT: I wonder why Prime doesn’t also do that then? 

Ashe shrugs, picking a random door on their left which is slightly cracked and squatting down, slipping her fingers in the crack and heaving up with all she had- which, frankly, isn’t much.

VYNCENT: Do you-

He frowns slightly, watching her struggle.

VYNCENT: Do you… want help with that?

ASHE: Nope!

Finally, the damn thing budges, the door sliding open with a much louder noise than she would have liked. Vyncent only tries not to laugh for a second.

ASHE: I got it, didn’t I?

VYNCENT: That’s fair, you did. I could’ve done it faster, though.

ASHE: Whatever, man. What do we got?

VYNCENT: I think it’s just quarters…?

Ashe sighs.

ASHE: Damn.

Vyncent looks, quickly, over the room- turning over a few papers and briefly scanning them. It was nothing interesting, mostly personal effects. Against the door, Ashe leans, hands settling into her pockets. She watches Vyncent quietly, almost a melancholy to her. There was just… something about him. Something about the way he padded quietly about the room, poking around things, leaving everything in almost exactly the same quality and position it had been before. Seen, but preserved. She wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

Vyncent turns to look at her.

VYNCENT: It’s a bit weird, being in someone else’s bedroom.

ASHE: Yeah. The whole abandoned ship thing is really creepy to me. Dakota doesn’t really think so.

Vyncent shrugs.

VYNCENT: I think what creeps me out is that they might never get this stuff back. We might be the last person to see it all together.

ASHE: Yeah… yeah I guess.

This time, the silence is tense with something neither of them could really place.

ASHE: Does it remind you of being on the Flora?

She blurts it out, not really thinking about the words. Or, more accurately, thinking exactly about the words but not being able to help herself but ask.

VYNCENT: Huh?

ASHE: The… the whole… abandoned ship thing.

She feels bad for even bringing it up

ASHE: Because you…

Ashe hesitates. Kind of wishes she hadn’t asked in the first place.

ASHE: You were just… alone. When we found you.

VYNCENT: Oh, uh…

He pauses. He hadn’t exactly thought about it before but… that would make sense, he supposes.

VYNCENT: Yeah. A little, I guess, Before that I was, uh… I was on the ship with my dad and his… crew is the term, right? 

ASHE: I think? What would you say?

VYNCENT: Er- party?

ASHE: Huh. Okay. So it was your dad and his party?

Vyncent nods.

VYNCENT: The Greats. That's what they were called back home. They were a fantastic crew… and my family ran the Pilot's Guild. I was uh… set up to inherit it, actually.

Ashe winces. It was… strange, hearing about just how much has been so quickly ripped away from Vyncent.

VYNCENT: This was… supposed to be a big trip. Something important. I never got all of the details but- I managed to convince them to let me come along. That I… needed the experience.

She nods for him to go on.

VYNCENT: But, the uh… the ship was attacked! As you… know. I don't know what happened, but…

He takes a deep breath in, and does everything he can to not picture it. A good pilot should be able to clear their mind and focus on the moment, after all.

VYNCENT: But suddenly there was commotion. Flashing lights, shaking, the works. My dad told me to hide. So… I did. And then… you guys found me.

ASHE: …Shit. I… I wish we thought to check the cameras or something, y'know? Anything that would help us know what happened.

VYNCENT: …yeah. 

ASHE: But, dude… we mean it when we say we're gonna help you, okay? Dakota's more charismatic than me with this, but… we're here, and we're here to help. And I know we keep saying it, but it's… it's important to remember. You just gotta stick with us, okay, Vyncent?

VYNCENT: My… you can-

Hesitating, watching as the train barrels on, never changing it’s track-

VYNCENT: …yeah. Yeah, okay. Now… let's move on?

She looks at him skeptically for a second, but nods, turning out of the doorframe and walking down the hall. 

Vyncent sighs, a frustrated disappointment on his face.

VYNCENT: …Virion.

He mutters it, angrily, to him and only himself. Frustrated by- what, his own cowardice? His disconnect from who he really was? Who even cared anymore! The few weeks he had been Vyncent had been so much more than Virion ever had. It was horrible, but… he had enjoyed being Vyncent. Part of him didn't want to stop. He liked being on the ship. On the crew. 

Vyncent takes a deep breath in, burying his frustration as he breathes out.

ASHE, DISTANTLY: Vyncent?

VYNCENT: One sec!

He liked it in the Winnebago. He liked it a lot.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESSING: CARGOSHIP_REGISTRATION.ANTIPATHARIA > ACCESS > HALL8CAMERA.LIQ.RECORING

DAKOTA: Finally!

He digs his fingernails into the floor, popping up a well hidden hatch.

DAKOTA: Figured these things would be labeled.

He's not exactly talking to anyone, mostly mumbling to himself as he drops down in the darkness, eyes opening wide to see through the dark. Around his shoulders, Bobo pokes up his head.

DAKOTA: Man, this thing is weird. Looks like a boat. Like not a ship, but a boat. Y'know?

He turns slightly to look at Bobo, who just blearily blinks.

DAKOTA: Yeah.

The insides of this ship seem much more brass and… almost steampunk? than the Winnebago. Obvious rivets holding everything in place. 

This was his element. Dakota swore he would never get tired of it, being surrounded by everything that was keeping them afloat and going forward. This ship was so much bigger, too. So many more moving parts.

The copper colored metal was weird. He kinda wondered if it was an aesthetician thing or a Mana thing.

DAKOTA: This place is fuckin’ weird.

>hard agree.

As Bobo wakes up more, he moves around on Dakota's shoulders, climbing all over as Dakota barely reacts.

DAKOTA: So what’s down here?

He walks through the ribs of the ship with very little direction, only insistent on moving forward. One step in front of the other, never stopping, never stalling. As machine in his mission as the engines he repaired. Dakota had learned pretty early on in his life to just keep going forward.

And forward he keeps going.

And forward that brings him to a long hallway, emergency light illuminating signs. It's a fun atmosphere, he thinks. Certainly unique.

Lining the hallway are handles, each connecting to  some sort of… conductor? 

DAKOTA: Oh, energy storage. What do we think the odds are that any of these are left?

He walks up to one of them, quietly inspecting, Bobo staring over his shoulder. After a second, he grasps it firmly.

Dakota rotates the handle, heaving it up once it’s no longer locked in place. Where he’s expecting a bright, glowing light, he finds nothing. Huh. He swings it up, using its momentum to rest the thing on his knee as he goes about looking over the energy store, trying to see where exactly it failed.

DAKOTA: Ah.

He mumbles to himself, brows furrowing. The actual battery was removed- leaving behind just the container. That was… a hazard to whoever removed it. It was kind of their own fault for not doing their research before stealing something, but… he hoped they were storing them carefully, breaking one of these things open would not be a fun death.

With one hand supporting the base, the other still in the handle, Dakota lets the capsule slide back into place, once again locking it.

Now, he could either assume they had taken all of the energy stores, do one last look over some of the internals, and return to Ashe and Vyncent.

Or he could take the time to check each individual capsule.

DAKOTA: What do you think, Bobo?

The spider monkey stares up at him, eyes void of any reaction. Dakota grins.

DAKOTA: Yeah, me too.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESSING: CARGOSHIP_REGISTRATION.ANTIPATHARIA > ACCESS > CARGOCAMERA.LIQ.RECORING

Back in the cargobay, Vyncent and Ashe sit on one of the many boxes, silent. The conversation had pretty much died violently, and while Ashe was more than used to silence, she still found herself mourning it.

DAKOTA: Hey!

Dakota calls out. Ashe is quick to look over at him, the smidgen of tension in her shoulders relieving. His flannel is tied around his waist, and under his arm is a large metal cylinder.

ASHE: Dakota, welcome back. Find anything interesting?

DAKOTA: Nah, figured out why the cargo was still all here. All of the energy stores were taken.

ASHE: What… is that, then?

DAKOTA: …all of the energy stores have been taken. Now. 

ASHE: Dakota?

DAKOTA: Yes?

ASHE: Is that radioactive?

DAKOTA: No! Not yet, at least?

ASHE: …what?

DAKOTA: If it breaks then that's a different story.

She stares at him for a moment, then glances down at the container under his arm.

ASHE: …y’know what? Sure. 

DAKOTA: Trust me! I’ve gutted one of these things before, these bad boys go for an insane price!

VYNCENT: Is that the only one?

Dakota nods, shaking Bobo slightly.

DAKOTA: Checked ‘em all, just the one.

Ashe sighs.

ASHE: Figured there’d be more to take given how big and untouched this place is.

DAKOTA: I think the pirates who attacked this place had the same thought. 

VYNCENT: How do we know it was pirates? Couldn’t it have just been like… normal thieves?

ASHE: It’s a legal classification.

VYNCENT: …it is?

DAKOTA: Yeah! Rouge slash pirate ships. Anyone who goes around and steals from abandoned haulers.

VYNCENT: How are we different from that?

DAKOTA: We’re not!

ASHE: Well, I mean- we are. We’re government employees. Since most of the time these ships get cut down for parts, we’re allowed to take whatever we want as long as we update WATCH on the location and status of the ship. 

VYNCENT: That makes more sense. I guess?

DAKOTA: It’s like the difference between archaeology and grave robbing.

VYNCENT: …time?

DAKOTA: No, funding. And also licensing.

ASHE: Yeah, we’re like space archaeologists. 

DAKOTA: And some of us used to be pace grave robbers.

That was news to Vyncent.

VYNCENT: So- back to the ship, then? We didn’t find anything good?

DAKOTA: We found one thing good! But, uh… yeah. Ship time?

ASHE: Ship time.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > COMMONAREA_CAMERA.RECORDING

Sitting on the couch, Dakota stares down the hallway, brows furrowed, a small frown on his face. Concentrating, as if trying to figure out a particularly complex puzzle.

ASHE: You good?

DAKOTA: …yeah. Is- he?

ASHE: What, Vyncent?

DAKOTA: Yeah.

She turns to look down the hallways as well, where just a few minutes ago Vyncent had excused himself. He’d been quiet ever since they got back to the ship, barely talking through dinner before disappearing.

ASHE: It’s all a lot for him, I think. He… lost his home. He’s away from his family. I don’t blame him for needing time to himself.

DAKOTA: I guess.

He deflates slightly, finally turning away.

DAKOTA: People are weird and complex.

Ashe laughs, leaning over the back of the couch so that her hair fell down over her shoulders and framed her, like a painting. A beautiful painting. Or something poetic like that. Dakota was no good at poetry.

ASHE: Last I checked you’re people?

DAKOTA: Nah. I’m built different.

He’s got a stupid grin on his face, like he just said the funniest thing in the world, and Ashe just- loses it in a fit of giggles. He was so stupidly infectious. The sort of energy that Ashe had never been around before, and one that she found herself more and more-

ASHE: I’m sure you are.

-addicted to.

[-in love with.]

She feels alive, staring down at Dakota with a stupid sort of smile on her face, laughing at his horrible jokes with him. It’s living. It’s freedom. It’s all she’s ever wanted.

It takes Ashe a minute before her thoughts catch up to her and she realizes she might be a little fucked.

ASHE: I’ll uh- go down and check on him later, okay?

Is it hot  in here? She thinks maybe it’s a bit hot in here.

DAKOTA: Nah, don’t worry about it. Like you said, he probably just needs some time to himself.

ASHE: Right, yeah. Probably.  I uh… I’m gonna go- be in the bridge. If you need me.

DAKOTA: …okay? You normally are.

ASHE: I just… yeah. Cool. 

She walks off quickly, leaving Dakota to watch her go with a confused expression on his face.

People were weird.

SCRAPPERSHIP_REGISTRATION.WINNEBAGO > ACCESS > ENGINE_CAMERA.RECORDING

Vyncent sits, leant against the engine as always, more miserable looking than normal. He’s quiet for a long time, basking in the noise of the engine, the ship around him hiding him away from everything else. The inner mechanics drown out the sounds of emergency blares aboard the Flora. He lets out a breath, head thudding against the outer plating of the engine.

VYNCENT: Checking the cameras was the first thing I did when it was calm.

>oh?

His ears twitch, the beautiful curious nothing he hears reverberating in his skull. William’s voice, which both was and wasn’t. Barely loud enough for him to hear, like a secret- whispered. Coveted. 

VYNCENT: The footage turns off after a point, I think something was messing with the computers, but… I saw it. Saw my father betray his crew, his party. Let whatever it was that attacked us onto the ship with nothing more than a grimace on his face.

He spat the words angrily, curling in on himself.

VYNCENT: I just- I don't get it. I don't fucking get it. Why would he… why would he do that?

> i… i wish i could tell you, vync.

>or…

>would you prefer virion?

It wasn't that William hadn't known. Having had access to every single file on the Flora, including Virion “Vyncent” Sol's passenger file. He had known from the second Vyncent had stepped out of those shadows and introduced himself. 

It just felt like respect not to bring it up.

VYNCENT: I… Vyncent is fine.

>okay.

>i wish i knew, but… some people's motivations are just… 

>hard to understand. 

>and it makes them take…

>cruel actions.

>and you just have to deal with not knowing why.

VYNCENT: Is this still about me?

>...

>i don't know.

>i'm…

>angry.

>and i don't know why.

>obviously i'm angry for you, but-

VYNCENT: I get it.

>...yeah.

VYNCENT: Then I guess neither of us know shit. Least of all why people do evil things.

>solidarity in suffering.

Vyncent snickers.

VYNCENT: You mind if I take a nap down here, by the way? I… feel a bit like avoiding the others for a little.

>sure.

>i doubt it'll be comfortable…

>but you're more than welcome to.

VYNCENT: Cool, thanks.

>...you’re welcome, vyncent.