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Martin doesn't like going on social media. The glamorized photos, the exaggerated stories, and the targeted ads and content made him scoff at the performativity. He did go online to keep in touch with friends and family and catch up with what they've been up to recently, but not much more than that. A majority of his online activity was on science forums and research journals (call him boring all you want but he believes this is what the internet should be used for), and the occasional cooking blog that he couldn't figure out how to unsubscribe his email from. However, since he was one of the astronauts of the Hail Mary, Martin has been subjected to media training as a part of the Project's PR. He might as well just start using social media even though he never really saw the appeal in it.
Another motivation for him to start having an online presence was Annie. He wanted to catch whatever meme reference she often used during their conversations and he honestly felt a little stupid when she had to explain a term or joke as if he'd been living under a rock. Martin would never admit it out loud, but he's also seen a few romantic couple trends that he wanted to try with her before he was sent to space. He's a closet lover boy after all.
Another thing he's unable to wrap his head around was how the social media algorithm worked. One moment his feed would be filled with posts from people he follows, then the next it would be filled with reels and boosted posts from brands and businesses that felt very targeted. He wonders if there was someone out there monitoring his Instagram activity despite setting his account to private. It's probably safe to assume that everything on the internet is monitored to some degree.
So he didn't react much when he saw a post from an account he didn't recognize on his feed, only to be mildly surprised that the account has tagged their resident leading astrophage expert.
Are they mutuals with Dr. Grace? Martin wondered. They must be, since he got tagged in the post.
He read the caption: #Throwback to that post-finals rager during the spring of 2010! How's your knees fellas?🤣🤣🤣
Martin viewed the photos that were posted. It all seemed to be typical college party activities that were taken by a digicam, nothing exciting. Then he scrolled to the 10th image.
"Oh my God."
•••
The primary and secondary astronaut crews of the Hail Mary had a secret group chat that Stratt may or may not have turned a blind eye to for the sake of the crew's camaraderie. They did have an official group chat that included the science division, administrative department and Stratt but that was more for announcements and reminders, whereas their secret astronaut GC was for shits and giggles. Saving the world was serious stuff, but they're still human so cut them some slack for wanting to be silly for a little while.
Ilyukhina was the most active member in their group chat, followed—suprisingly—by Yao Li-Jie who often sent random astronomy and motivational TikToks (are they called TikToks in China? Ilyukhina was sure it was called something else on the Chinese internet), then the secondary science specialist, Annie Shapiro, who sent the occasional nonsensical meme image that complimented the mission's backup engineer, Sasha Levandovsky's, absurdist sense of humor. DuBois and the mission's reserve pilot, Ivan Cherenov, were the least active members. The GC was a mix of Russian-Chinese-English conversations that everyone somehow understood despite having limited mastery with each other's languages. Perhaps true friendship does transcend language barriers.
Ilyukhina was snacking on some fruit in the Vat's mess hall when she recieved the notification.
Martin DuBois seldom sent anything in the GC, so when he sent a link and said "Don't tell Dr. Grace about what I found", everyone was instantly curious as to what broke the man's usual programming. Their curiosity (and nosiness) doubled when the Project's second in command was mentioned. The woman opened the chat and saw the Instagram post that DuBois shared. She was fairly active on the app, and was even mutuals with a bunch of people on the Project. She's been reprimanded a few times by the Project's PR team for posting potentially confidential information online and was threatened to have her accounts taken down if she did so again. Ilyukhina only had less than two years left before she had to give up the comfort of social media, so she settled for a compromise and stopped posting anything, resorting to just reposting (PR approved) reels and posts on her story. (She has a secret dump account but she's not telling anyone that).
When the post finally loaded, she saw the unfamiliar account and noticed that Ryland Grace was tagged in the post. She was mutuals with the scientist, but she knew that he never really checked his Instagram. Grace had mentioned that his account was automatically generated when he created a (barely used) Facebook account so that he could be part of a Facebook group for the teachers, staff and parents of the middle school he used to teach in.
She viewed the images, and once she scrolled to the 10th picture, she exclaimed something in her mother tongue that would've made her father shove a soap into her mouth.
Ilyukhina was both glad and frustrated that Dr. Grace wasn't as chronically online as she was.
•••
Yao Li-Jie is a no-nonsense man. His algorithm on Douyin however, says otherwise. He at first refused to use the app and stuck with WeChat and Weibo, since his family and colleagues were on it. His niece, however, managed to lure him in with an account that strictly posted compilations of epic fail videos. He never clocked himself to have such a shallow sense of humor, considering his occupation and interests, but the human brain was easily entertained despite its complexities.
His current obsession as of now were bite-sized, one minute period dramas that were posted in multiple parts, and he'll shoot someone in the face before he'd ever let anyone find out what was on his FYP. To balance out his unconventional taste, Yao obsessively reposted and saved scientific videos and motivational edits to save face, because he never figured out how to set his account to private or had the forethought of not using his face and full government name on the account, and he's managed to rack up a significant following because of his status as the commander of a very important mission to save the planet. He was lucky that he managed to figure out how to private his favorites and likes, so that was a comfort for him.
The PR team had access to all of his social media accounts, and he was glad that none of them had any comments about his algorithm. If his crew caught wind of the things he was watching…oh, he's never going to hear the end of it. Ilyukhina would definitely never shut up about it. DuBois would probably have more respect, but he'd forever be changed in the eyes of the American. His serious commander persona would be done for.
It was during one of his short drama binge that he received the group chat notification. Yao barely saw any activity from DuBois in the chat, so he was curious as to why the man messaged out of the blue. If it was something mission related, he would've pinged the official group chat. This was something casual, maybe. He opened the chat and clicked the link DuBois had sent. He didn't pay attention to the accompanying message, so he was confused at first when the link led to an account he was not familiar with. Then he saw Dr. Grace's Instagram account tagged by the user in the post. Then he read the caption.
A throwback post. Yao thought. I don't see Dr. Grace in these photos, though. Perhaps he was just tagged for posterity?
He scrolled through the photos, he let himself reminisce about his own days in university. Ah, how life was simpler back then. The post stopped loading after the 9th image, so the 10th was a blur with a loading circle stuck halfway through. Yao frowned, was there an issue with the Vat's wifi? As he waited for the image to load, another GC notification popped up. He tapped on it and saw that the new message was from Levandovsky. It was in Russian but he's been around the man to recognize a few words to be vulgar expletives. That message was followed by Shapiro sending a reaction image to the chat.
DuBois: Sasha. Language.
Levandovsky: It's not like Stratt is seeing this. What is she going to do, make me eat bleach?
Ilyukhina: Your mother might 😂
Shapiro: Are we not going to address the elephant in the room?
Ilyukhina: We WILL address it LOUDLY
Levandovsky: I'll shove bleach up somewhere the sun doesn't fucking shine
DuBois: Language Sasha, geez
Levandovsky: Your just as prissy as Dr. Grace with cussing but I know the things you and Annie get up to in between conferences don't play saint now
Cherenov:: CHAT RULES NO SEX TALK ESPECIALLY SEX TALK ABOUT MARTIN AND ANNIE!
Ilyukhina: Holy shit he's alive!
Cherenov: I'm just a man. I sense gossip, I fold.
Shapiro: For someone as simple and boring as Dr. Grace, he sure does get involved in a lot of controversies
DuBois: An affair rumor between him and Stratt is barely a controversy
Levandovsky: Is that rumor even true?
Ilyukhina: I bet a few guys in the navigation crew a couple hundred yuan so it better be true
DuBois: I never considered him to be loose like that
Shapiro: Martin, darling, you have no idea how insane that sounds without context
Yao felt a little miffed. It seemed that everyone knew something that he didn't know. Even the least active members of the chat were online, just what was he missing?
Yao: What is all this?
Shapiro: Have you seen the post?
Yao: It's not loading for me. What was that post?
Cherenov: Oh my god he doesn't know.
Yao: Of course I don't the post isn't loading. There's probably an issue with the wifi
Ilyukhina: Close the app and click the link again it's probably just a bug🐞
Yao did so and scrolled up to view the link once more. When the post loaded, he looked through the images and finally saw what got the entire crew so scandalized. He let out a shriek that caused someone passing by his quarters to knock in concern. After he assured the passing seaman that everything was alright and convincing him that whatever he heard was just some noise the ship made that should probably be checked by an engineer, he found the chat flooding with new messages.
Levandovsky: What the fuck was that, did the ship hit something?
Shapiro: WDYM I didn't hear anything
DuBois: Yao did you see it?
Ilyukhina: Someone check on the commander he probably had a heart attack or something he's not seeing our messages
Cherenov: It's the engines settling, maybe.
DuBois:@Yao
Shapiro: Commander?
Levandovsky: Holy shit Ilyukhina you're probably right, the commander was so shocked by the post he's probably lying face down somewhere someone put out a code blue
Yao: We are never letting Grace see that ever
Cherenov: HE LIVES
Yao: Dr. Grace is a good man, a kind man. We have to protect whatever self-respect he has left for himself. I've seen that man make several self deprecating jokes three times in a row and have the audacity to apologize, he'll die if he ever saw the mistakes of his youth plastered online
DuBois: That's a bit much, commander. I think the man could handle a few embarrassing college memories
Ilyukhina: I wouldn't lol
Shapiro: My respect for him has low key increased. Do you think he remembers what he was capable of doing that night?
Levandovsky: The amount of alcohol in those pictures made sure that Dr. Grace developed retrograde amnesia from that party
Yao laughed at that.
•••
Other than the official group chat, everyone involved in the Project had custom mission emails for announcements and communications between officers. Everyone was highly encouraged to use the emails as the primary comms method, but that didn't stop them from forming private chats and groups in third party apps and using those instead. Like the astronauts, the Vat's science division had their own personal chat groups with how diverse the branches were. There was the lead science experts clique, the engineering team had their own little niche, the biologists had their exclusive hub, the mathematicians had their circle, the physicists as well, and so on. The entire division also had a main casual group chat they've dubbed "The Vat's Nerds", where they talked about anything and everything without the pressure of their work hanging over their heads. They still kept stuff profesh, but not too profesh.
Lokken had the GC muted because the chat never seemed to stay quiet and the constant notification pings pissed her off. She still checked in occasionally, she wanted to be friendly with her colleagues after all. She was part of another group chat that consisted of the lead scientists in the Project. That chat wasn't as active as the Vat's Nerds one, so she kept the notifications on.
The chat was named "Lead Science Nerds". Typical, but that's what you get for letting Ryland Grace come up with the chat name. The usual suspects of the group chat were Dimitri, Redell, Grace and Lamai, all of which had unique quirks when it came to chatting in the group. Redell was the noisiest of them all, usually sharing the whatever rumor was going around the ship (except for the Grace-Stratt rumor, because it was "old news anyway") and random thoughts that would turn into a chat-wide discussion for some reason, all in voice message. The man can yap for hours if given the chance and Lokken had half the mind to suggest Redell to start a podcast (she would never do that of course, God forbid what that man would do once he gains access to a microphone).
Dimitri and Grace were their meme dealers, the former making obscure Russian meme references that was so out of pocket that it was actually mildly hilarious, and the latter having the equivalent of a middle school geek's sense of humor with internet slang, science puns and biology pick up lines being his bread and butter. In other words, their meme dealers sucked at comedy. Lamai was the most normal out of them all, she usually started conversations with greetings, sent motivational quotes and shared the occasional cat video compilation that made Lokken's day brighter. The only downside with her is that she often used the GC as a note pad, she's had several chats listing down her reminders and to do list and random phrases that have no context, and it baffled the Norwegian woman as to why Lamai didn't just use her notes app.
It could be worse, Lokken reasoned with herself. They could start role-playing in the group chat and I cannot cope with that.
She was rightfully confused when she got dragged into a new group chat with the other science leads. They already have a group chat for nonsense, why did someone make a new one? She noticed that Grace wasn't in this one, how odd.
Lamai: Hello?
Redell: What is this???
Dimitri: Good evening everyone! I made this chat because I have discovered something very, very interesting :)
Lokken raised an eyebrow at that. When Dimitri says he's "discovered something interesting", it's either dirt on someone or a significant scientific breakthrough. Considering the nature of the chat, she decided that this was probably about blackmailing some poor sucker.
Lokken: Who's the victim now, Komorov?
The Russian man sent a stock photo of a man playing a drum.
Dimitri: It's Dr. Grace!
Redell: I'm surprised. Was he caught shagging someone on the ship? Was it Stratt? It better be, I bet like three hundred yuan on that rumor with a few lads from the engineering team
Leclerc: Is this a new chat?
Lamai: Hello there François! 👋
Lokken: Yeah, Dimitri got blackmail material against Grace
Hatch: This feels kinda wrong, talking about him behind his back
Redell: Oh hush, whatever Dimitri has on Grace is probably not as career ending as his UNESCO fiasco. It's just another rumor our dear friend has unknowingly become a part of
Dimitri: Hehe
Lamai: So what is it that you found out about Grace, Dimitri?
Dimitri: You all have Instagram, yes? It's all on there :)
A link to an Instagram post was sent to the chat. Lokken did have an Instagram account, but she never posted anything on it. She also had a very old, semi-famous goth-alt Tumblr blog that she occasionally used, but that's something she'll be taking to her grave. She didn't click on the link right away and waited for the others' reaction to the post. Three minutes later, Redell sent a two minute long voice message.
Lamai: 😧
Hatch: WHAT!!?!
Leclerc: My God
Okay, now Lokken was curious. She opened the link and saw the post. It was a throwback to some party during Grace's college years. The average person has done insane shit during undergrad and regretted it. Well, she definitely did, so she wouldn't be surprised with whatever Grace would've been doing at some juvenile college party. Lokken scrolled through the photos, seeing the usual party shenanigans, then she got to the 10th image.
Her jaw dropped.
Ryland Grace, who pouted over cold dino nuggets and spilled apple juice in the mess hall, had the balls to be seen like that?
She played Redell's voice message, and for two minutes straight, all he could say was "What the fuck?", "Holy shit", "This cannot be real", "Grace was fucking doing what?", and Lokken couldn't articulate whatever she's been thinking any better.
Oh shit, thought Lokken. I have to fix my digital footprint right the fuck now.
•••
Stratt had gone through her fair share of rumors throughout her tenure. As a woman in the unforgiving field of geopolitics, her name has been dragged through the mud enough that she always had the aftertaste of dirt in her tongue. To get where she currently was in her career, she had to grow skin thicker than stone. Old, greedy men in suits and power were relentless in knocking down someone like her trying to climb the ranks of international relations, and look at where her stubborness has gotten her: on top of the world, only to be crucified like Christ the moment this Project ended. Whatever. She'll do things worse than any man has ever done in history if it assured the survival of humankind, even if they're never grateful for the things she's done and will do.
Rumors have never bothered her, in fact, she ate them for breakfast alongside the occasional death threat. They're just words, and words may cut deep metaphorically, but they didn't incapacitate her physically. So what if the Vat thought she and Dr. Grace were intimate behind closed doors? What surprised her was everyone thought Grace was the one who slept his way to the top, because it was usually the other way around. She was used to the chatter, but Grace probably was not.
Stratt was aware of his spunkiness as an academic before he was humbled, but the covert affairs of gossip and whispers was a different world from lectures and debates that the man was probably used to. She found herself wanting to shelter him from the sharp untruths about him…only to realize that the man was as oblivious as a fucking rock.
Grace was a walking contradiction of observant and clueless. It was fitting that the man is a molecular biologist, an expert on things not usually seen by the naked eye. He was hyper aware of the most minute things, only to blatantly ignore the glaring issue in front of him. Perhaps that's why he has this awkward charm that seemed to captivate everyone on the Vat, that and his genuine kindness.
Stratt had done thorough background checks on everyone on the Project, so she was slightly amused when she was sent an email regarding Dr. Grace that contained something she was not aware of before. The email was from the lead security officer, Carl, who's been close with Dr. Grace ever since he was assigned to him during the early days of astrophage research.
To: <[email protected]>
From: <[email protected]>
Subject: Dr. Ryland Grace
This may seem unprofessional, but I think you might want to know about this, ma'am.
<link>
The agent had sent her a link to a social media post. Stratt wasn't on any platform other than LinkedIn, but she could still use other social media with relative ease. The link redirected her to a public Instagram post of a user she was unfamiliar with. It was a collection of images from some college party in the 2010s, and Grace seemed to be tagged in the pictures. She didn't see him in the first few images, but when she got to the 10th photo…
Stratt being stunned into silence was a phenomenon rarely observed by anyone. The woman forgot where she was at the moment and jumped slightly when the man in the room with her asked, "Hey, is there something wrong?"
She stared in bewilderment at Dr. Grace in front of her, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, lips slightly pulled down into a frown, kind eyes searching her face for something, and fingers lightly drumming the wooden surface of the table. Then she looked back at the Grace in her tablet screen. How the fuck are these two the same person?
"I-it's nothing," she didn't like how she stammered. If Grace noticed it, he didn't comment on it. "I think I need to lie down for a bit."
"Oh," Grace looked more worried, he stood up from his seat. "Are you feeling sick?"
"I'm just…" Stratt waved her hand dismissively, "I'm okay. You can keep working here in my office if you want. Lock the door on your way out."
"Do you want me to walk with you?" the man offered.
"No. No, it's alright," Stratt suddenly felt an unwarranted mental whiplash. "I'll see you later, Dr. Grace."
Grace sat back down, but he turned his body to face Stratt as she left the room. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked her.
Stratt bit the inside of her cheek. She did not want him to find out that his…past was what rattled her so much to the point that she had to lie down. She gave him a curt smile, "Thank you for the concern, Dr. Grace, but I'm fine. I just need sleep."
"Oh, okay," he waved at her awkwardly. "I'll see you later, then."
She nodded and left the room, gripping her tablet in her arm. Once she briskly made her way to her room, she immediately reopened the link and studied every image after the one that shocked her initially. Grace should not have survived that, holy shit.
Stratt checked the account's other posts and dear Lord, those images were just the beginning of a series of posts of throwback compilations of various college parties during Grace's undergrad years. There definitely have been instances of back-alley drug use, vandalism, trespassing, and a lot of underage drinking (if Stratt could recall, Americans were not legally allowed to drink until they were 21 years old).
She swore in Dutch when a thought popped into her head. Stratt had always planned for Grace to be the backup for the backup, and while it would never happen in a billion years, she might have to send him to space to die. The astronauts had 'care bags' that were filled with sentimental items and personal effects that would be sent with them, among those would be photos of their happiest memories. Grace certainly looked ecstatic in the posts…
She saved the photos, just in case.
•••
Saving two planets was a messy feat.
After almost dying, then getting his butt saved and saving his buddy's butt in return, nearly killing his best friend after a bout of xeno-medical malpractice, and stumbling around in a haze of pain and painkiller numbness, Grace finally found time and energy to reorganize the things that were thrown around the ship during their successfully disastrous stunt over Adrian. The lab, storage and dormitory—both on his and Rocky's side—were a mess. His friend had began cleaning up his tunnels earlier than Grace because 1) he healed quicker than humans did, and 2) having your insides plastered all over the walls where you sleep is something you'd rather not have around. He still felt guilty about that, so he tried to make it up to Rocky by making him a heat lamp. The Eridian told him that the heat had no contribution to his healing, but the sensation was comforting for him, comparing it to having his mate hold him as he slept. Grace was glad the revelation.
He still can't raise his left arm above his head without feeling any pain, his hand also had limited movement. His right arm fared better, despite the claw-shaped burn healing under his bandages. The vision in his left eye was now worse than his right, and he's got a feeling that it was already permanent. Grace didn't mind though, not the sting of the burns or the eye damage, because that sacrifice meant that his best friend was alive and safe, albeit a bit banged up like he was.
His progress was embarrassingly slow, with only one arm having any semblance of functionality and having to sit down every ten minutes out of fatigue. Grace managed to organize Yao's stuff, now he was working through his and Ilyukhina's bags. He found her heroin as he cleaned, he didn't know what to do with that discovery. He was sure he got high once long ago, but it wasn't something he wanted to do again anytime soon or ever. He had other priorities, for now.
Grace stuffed the heroin at the bottom of Ilyukhina's bag, and stacked her other belongings on top so he didn't think about it again. He finally got to his bag. He was already familiar with the contents since he had raided the bags during his well deserved crashout after waking up from the coma. He had his punny shirts, his polaroid, bean bags, sweaters, socks, and underwear, a couple paperbacks, letters and drawings from his students, and…a photo album?
That's new. Grace thought. How did I miss this one?
He was sure he had rummaged through everything the first time round, the photo album wasn't small enough that he couldn't have noticed it, but it was also smaller than the usual album so maybe missing it the first time wasn't all out there. The album's cover was inconspicuous, just a dark grey moleskin with a custom golden engraving of his surname on the lower right. Fancy. He opened the album and saw the first page had a short message for him.
In case you ever feel lonely.
Oh, the irony. He wished he could smack the head of whoever wrote the dedication, and he had a strong feeling that he knew who that someone was.
His heart squeezed a little when he saw that the rest of the page was filled with little notes and signatures from the science division and the Vat and Baikonur crews. He read each and every one of them, despite not understanding Chinese characters and barely deciphering the Cyrillic letters and other languages. He could feel the love, care and sorrow from all those he had to leave behind. He didn't see Stratt's signature, but the large message in the middle was evidence of her twisted sense of benevolence for him.
Grace turned to the second page and saw the official mission photo they took two months before the launch. They never managed to fit everyone in the Vat and Baikonur crews in the image, but the entire science division was in the photo, alongside the admin department, heads of security and of course, the spearheads of the Project smack dab in the middle. It funnily reminded him of the annual school yearbook photos he took with his kids in GCMS, a symbol of an entire year of learning coming to a close. Below that picture was an official looking portrait of the primary Hail Mary crew, he felt tears prickle his eyes when his gaze fell over the three astronauts he'd considered as his friends.
The next few pages were an assortment of official pictures and stolen images during his stay on the Vat and at the Cosmodrome, with a few images bearing handwritten notes from people in the Project. He saw himself in the background of a few photos, then he was the subject of some pictures alongside other Project officers. Then the photographs slowly transitioned into personal ones, ones that definitely should've been in the boxes inside his closet in San Francisco. Did Stratt freaking raid his apartment? Ugh, he'll unpack the feeling of violation later, he's reminiscing right now.
Childhood photos with his parents, his Aunt Holly and cousins, his Great-uncles, his grandparents, him in middle school and high school, then…
Ryland Grace wished for a second dose of that French amnesia drug.
The shame he felt seeing those photos made him want to chuck himself out of the airlock. Burning shame, then cold, cold dread. If these images made it onto the ship, those pictures were definitely seen by Stratt, and maybe even by the other crew members and officers. Grace vaguely remembered an entire week on the Vat where everyone was awkward around him, which did not do anything good for his general anxiety. It seems that he's figured out what made everyone aloof with him that week.
He was glad that this was a suicide mission, oh was he glad—FUDGE! Rocky had offered him fuel so that he could go back home. The mission was un-suicided already. There is no way he'll be able to face anyone back on Earth because those photos were printed screenshots that whoever saved them did not bother to freaking crop out! His actions are permanently cemented on Instagram unless the original poster of the images had taken down the posts. That still did not comfort him, because the original evidence is out there somewhere in some SD card inside a decrepit digital camera from the 2010s.
"Grace okay, question?"
The man almost jumped out of his skin at the question.
"Ah, Rock. Yeah I'm okay." He assured his friend.
"Elevated heart levels," Rocky pointed out. "Indication of stress."
Grace quickly shoved the photo album back into his bag, even though Rocky wouldn't be able to see the pictures. Out of sight, out of mind.
"I just…remembered something from long ago," Grace said.
Rocky rolled his ball closer and asked, "Is bad memory, question?"
"Er, no not really." The man scratched his head. "It's more like…something I regret, but I don't at the same time?"
"Hmm, confusing." Rocky hummed, "What was memory about, question?"
Grace felt his cheeks flare up. He was not about to explain to an alien how he used to get so blackout drunk—and maybe high on party pills—that he wasn't able to remember what happened that night until he saw the photographic evidence of his hedonism. He had to admit though, he definitely had one hell of a good time.
"Just a college party, nothing much."
"Ooh, what was celebration about, question?"
"It wasn't really about anything, just a get together."
"Hmmm, did Grace do keg stand during party, question?"
Grace sputtered at the inquiry, "Wh-what? Rocky, where did you learn that word?"
"Unimportant. Grace answer."
"No! I never—I don't think I've ever done a keg stand before." Grace rubbed a hand over his face. Maybe he had, but he had no idea of knowing if he really did because he had the pleasure of getting bonked by a double whammy of the amnesia drug and his excessive alcohol consumption during whatever party that might've happened in.
"Hmm. So Grace do body shots, question?"
Grace fell silent, because he knew the answer to that. He even had physical proof of it tucked in his bag. The man sighed loudly and didn't say anything, he wasn't even going to think about why Rocky knew what body shots were.
"Grace did! Amaze!" Rocky trilled, "Grace party animal." The Eridian let out a laugh.
Great, Grace groaned. He's never going to let me know any peace for the rest of this mission.
"No worry Grace, Rocky party animal too." Rocky sang, then rolled away to the lab. "Time check for astrophage predator, now!"
The man blinked.
"Rocky, what did you mean by that?"
"Talk later, check now!"