Chapter Text
“Are you sure you've got room to move in there, buddy?”
I thought the Blip-A must’ve been pretty much empty the last time Rocky moved all his crap in, but now I can barely see him amongst the boxes and doo-dads filling up his side of the partition. I get glimpses of him here and there as he clambers about tying everything down, but most of the Dormitory space is completely full of stuff. If it was me in there, I'd go stir-crazy in minutes. I sure hope Eridians don't get claustrophobic.
“Yes. Space is sufficient for movement. Eridians are compact and efficient species.”
I can't see him right now, he's rattling around in the maze of boxes somewhere, but I think I can detect a note of humor in that last statement. Since we got him on board and started preparing to leave for Erid, he's been almost bouncing off the walls with high spirits. I’ve never seen him hold his carapace up so high for so long. Truth be told, I feel it too. It'll be a long trip to Erid, and I most likely will never see the Earth again. But this time, I don't have to make the journey alone. And I'm going to an alien planet! How cool is that? I'm probably going to die almost as soon as we get there, but we'll burn that bridge when we get to it.
“Alright, Rocky. As long as you're happy, I'm happy.”
I mean it, too. It's great to see him so jazzed for the trip home to Erid.
“Happy,” he confirms.
From a gap in the stacks at head height, Rocky sticks his arm through and gives me a thumbs-up. I give him one too, even though I'm not sure how well he can actually hear it with all that stuff in the way.
That's the last of Rocky's luggage on board. Four year’s worth of Eridian food, enough technical bits and pieces to keep him entertained, and whatever sentimental items he wants to bring have been shuttled across from the Blip-A. The tunnel has been detached, Rocky's said his goodbyes to his ship. It was his home for the past 46 years, but he doesn't seem sad to leave it at all. A few days ago he thought it was going to be his coffin, so I can't say I blame him. I'm a little bummed out, though. I would have loved to see the inside of it.
It's finally time to set sail for Erid. I make the most of the last of the zero G for a while and launch myself up into the control room. Without the panic and the nausea and the impending doom of two entire planets to ruin it, it really does feel like flying. Rocky doesn't so much fly as tarzan-swing himself up through his tunnels, flinging himself forward from each handhold.
“You ready, Rocky?”
“Ready! Start engines! We leave for home now!”
Rocky taps hard on the xenonite wall closest to the control panel. I hit the button that will set the computer on our chosen course, thrust increasing slowly to a comfortable 1.5G. Somewhere in the lab, a pen I forgot to put away clatters to what is now the ground, because apparently I just don't learn. On the RADAR display the Blip-A becomes smaller and smaller, until it blinks out of existence against the blackness of space.
“Time to boldly go where no man has gone before,” I say. I can feel myself grinning like an idiot.
“Grace make Earth culture reference again. You are making smug face.”
“I used to watch a lot of this TV show - uh, that's a recording of actors–”
“–I go set up workshop,” Rocky says, scuttling away exasperatedly.
“Hey, rude!” I scramble after him. “I've got almost four years to explain Star Trek to you, you're not getting off that easy!”