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In hours preceding supply deliveries, the crew of the Gateway International Deep Space Station were hard at work. Although the earth and its problems appeared incredibly small, the team bore similar problems proportionate to their lunar residence. They would have been silly to have assumed that space travel was a true escape.
The heavy realities of earth were somewhat muffled, certainly, from the cover of four hundred thousand kilometres of vacuum. But freeway traffic, rent payments and shovelling snow were only replaced with much more frightening day-to-day nuisances, with much more severe potential outcomes.
One would think a space station crewed currently by solely women would be the most peaceful place on or.. off of earth. But the truth was that Misty Quigley was as alone as she had always been. The only difference being that she was alone in far more danger, and alone with the opportunity to prove herself in ways she had never thought possible. But alone in a way that was somewhat familiar to her, in a house full of people, on a station full of people. It seemed that it didn’t matter much where she was or what she was doing. But at least out here there was the feeling that she was accomplishing something. And days like this one made her role in the team indispensable.
No supply delivery came and went perfectly. But as per her general worldly outlook: Misty was determined that this be the one that did. If she couldn’t be the Commander, it was only right that Misty be given the title of Mission Specialist. The others would argue that piloting or operating other systems was more important. But how would one pilot anything if there was nobody to maintain the functionality of their equipment? Shipman, Turner and Matthews were technically trained to do Misty’s work in a pinch. But they wouldn’t see the things that she did. They wouldn’t be nearly as efficient or masterful. Misty on the other hand could easily perform evasive manoeuvres and meet any other such flight engineering requirements. She was a jack of all trades.
“How’s it going there with our Canadian friend?” Commander Scatorccio asked, in her usual monotone drawl. She was referring of course to the machine Misty was operating, designed by a Canadian company. The dark makeup NASA somehow approved making her eyes appear almost fuzzy with deep mystery and allure. She floated into the module, pulling herself along the bars lining what would be the ceiling in earth’s gravity conditions. Her brown hair waving about serenely and softly, as if underwater. Her sharp features looked just as if not more captivating from an upside down perspective. Misty swallowed and felt her eyes bounce back and forth from control pad to Scatorccio.
Misty could admit fairly easily that Natalie Scatorccio was just as equally balanced as herself, and an undoubtedly perfect fit for the commander position. And, Misty could also admit that people actually listened to Natalie Scatorccio. And that being listened to is arguably the most important part of being someone who issues commands.
“Just about ready to go,” Misty said from her position at the control panel, fingers pausing without being told to, briefly distracted by the commander’s sudden appearance.
“Well don’t let me get in your way,” Natalie said teasingly, slow in that way she always was. Sharp when she needed to be, but insanely sultry and gravelly for her importance. Misty found her so wildly fascinating. And, despite being wholly alone, if there was anybody Misty could call a friend aboard Gateway, it was probably Natalie. Unlike the other women they share this space with, Natalie treats Misty with at least a semblance of respect. Be that because of her authoritative position and the general expectations of a leader, or actual genuine kindness— Misty did not care.
All that mattered was that in any module at any given time, Misty would be ignored, demeaned and mocked. If Natalie happened to also be in said module, none of these things would occur. A human shield of some sort.
And Misty had always been grateful, despite the thick layer of jealousy that laid atop all of it. Scatorccio wasn’t an overly intimidating woman. She had very sharp features and deep eyes and a strong glare, pursed lips, the like. But she was thin. Muscly thin, sure, but she was thin on top of astronaut thin. The type of thinness that comes from an age of suffering long before ever coming up to a much more exercise-less existence. An existence filled with shitty dried space food and over-engineered workouts. Scheduled workouts at that- ones that the girls were told off for skipping not that they helped much in fighting off that space skinniness. And maybe Misty saw her as softer, less mean, just because she liked her quite a bit. But all of this to say, the title had to be doing the heavy lifting. Nobody was going to bite back at COMMANDER Natalie Scatorccio. Especially not when Houston was listening.
Natalie had ordered the team to organize everything three times over, assuring that there would be space to unpack the delivery and send it off again with their waste. If they were aboard the first ISS orbiting Earth, supply refills wouldn’t be so extremely nerve wracking. But being this isolated, it was a difference of many billions of dollars when a mistake was made. As would also be required on the ISS, Misty had performed tedious and necessary maintenance checks on all of the docking mechanisms before prepping the Canadarm6. But unlike on the ISS, these tasks were charged with the heavy weight of successfully receiving ten day long round trip deliveries.
Misty remembered fondly the days on the first ISS. Receiving express deliveries from Russian Progress. 6 hours after launching, the autonomous cargo spacecraft would dock all on its own without Misty operating any Canadian robotic arm. But as convenient and peaceful as her time on the ISS had been, Misty felt a great pride in being a million times more important way out here. Her skills were now potentially the pathway between life and death.
Most everything else should already be completed if Natalie’s presence in this module was to be understood. Misty let herself take a deep breath before she finished the last few adjustments to the systems in preparation to catch the approaching delivery vehicle. All while Natalie’s eyes carved burning spots into the side of her face. Misty could practically feel welts forming on her skin under the attention.
The distant clangs and thuds of her fellow astronauts working at their different tasks was a familiar comfort. But with all of their preparatory tasks completed, the usually somewhat noisy station held a buzzing anticipatory silence as their delivery made its way closer. The energy in the air was palpable, and Misty felt it fill the space between herself and Commander Scatorccio. Misty whipped around and leaned her back against the control desk. She gripped the edge with one raised hand to remain in place.
“How long did Houston say?” Misty asked, although she knew Natalie would tell her forty minutes. Natalie circled around to Misty’s front, descending into view in what would be a comical way for anybody unversed in microgravity.
“..Forty minutes,” Natalie said, pushing off lightly from the upper panel to spin into earth-like orientation. She crossed her arms and raised a brow at Misty. “But you know that.”
“Yeah well,” Misty rubbed her sweaty palms on her ISS standard work pants. She thought a moment before perking up. A big smile spread across her face. “Can never be too sure! With how time goes by here. Half expected you to say ten minutes!”
“Mmmmmyeah. You didn’t,” Scatorccio said, floating a little closer just to make Misty uncomfortable. “But it’s nice of you to make conversation.”
Misty sat with that for a moment, not sure where to go from there. It was the extent of their flowery talk. On the Gateway, they did have a lot of time on their hands. And while some of that could have been used for conversing— and Misty admittedly would have loved it to be— Misty spent most of her time with her experiments.
Assigned from the scientists back at NASA, it was one of Misty’s many tasks to observe and learn from their lab full of earth stuff. Lab being another relatively small module on Gateway. More specifically, earth stuff exposed to space conditions. Specific combinations that would hopefully help them learn more and improve their understanding of space and in turn make space flight more safe. Misty was about the only person who spent any amount of time in the lab module, and as a result she didn’t get to make small talk all too often.
Back when she worked on the ISS, there was an astronaut named Crystal who used to essentially operate as Misty’s lab partner. It was good while it lasted, but things ended strangely in their work relationship. Misty wished she had somebody here to share the lab with, but with how things went down, she preferred being alone over dealing with Crystal. Sometimes things just don’t turn out. A phrase equally applicable to professional relationships and romantic ones. And if Misty had to pick a lab partner out of the assholes she shared gateway with (her commander being off the table) she’d probably rather die than pick.
As a child dreaming of living on the ISS, Misty had always thought it would have been the perfect opportunity to make connections. The picture of a family, strangers bonded through a quite literally otherworldly shared experience. Harbouring an eternal closeness that could never be matched by any earthly relationship. It was almost more of a reach than her pursuit of space flight. The comedy of it all started to set in when her partnership with Crystal crashed and burned. But it only really hit her now, many months into living on the Gateway International Deep Space Station essentially all alone amongst strangers. Strangers that remain strangers. Not the beautiful found family Misty had imagined.
All the while, she watched other bonds blossom in this place. Friendships’ sparkling joy bouncing through the modules, echoing through Gateway almost as if to mock her.
“Has Misty got the canadarm ready?” Tai’s voice crackled over the comms, staticky in a familiar way. Misty thinks if she were to hear a clear comm line it would scare her at this point. She was so used to the technology being so on edge. Pushed to its very limit out here on the frontier.
“… why are you asking? We’ve got time,” Natalie said.
“Check again,” Shauna’s voice chimed in. High pitched and sassy as per usual. But the words themselves sent Misty’s heart straight down to her stomach almost violently. What the hell could that mean. Shauna continues. “Look out cupola 3 please.”
Misty followed as Natalie quickly kicked herself off of the wall and went careening through to the next module. The window model similar to that of the first international space station. An observatory-esque room entirely dedicated to seeing outside. A module of the same design sat at the other end of the Gateway, where Shauna and Tai presumably were.
The moment they entered cupola 3, Misty felt her skin go cold. The supply delivery that had been expected to arrive in forty minutes was already only a couple of minutes away, and it was moving at a speed that would prove impossible to catch with the canadarm. What the hell had happened?
“Why is it going so fast?” Natalie muttered, her face as cold as Misty felt. The shadow of the incoming delivery vehicle putting them both in an ominous darkness. The usually bright and optimistic module was inlaid with terror. Misty had already essentially accepted that this thing was going to ram into them, fatally damage the Gateway and leave them with no life support systems.
“I can’t catch that thing!” She couldn’t help but cry out, as they watched it get closer. “Did somebody abort it!”
“Why would anybody abort it, Misty,” Tai said, sounding exasperated. As though asking a question like that was at all unprecedented. Misty had every right to ask why the hell this unmanned spacecraft was moving this way. It made no sense. And somebody commanding the vessel not to dock would hardly steer it to kill them all instead. That made even less sense.
“Why didn’t Houston say anything?” Charlotte Matthews joined in on the conversation from wherever she was. Misty hardly ever saw her, which should have been impossible in their tiny quarters. A mystery on legs. “Could be.. could be that space decided.”
“Stop it with that bullshit, Lottie, please. Not now,” Tai said, sounding more fed up than she ever had with Misty. It was a little bit vindicating if only before remembering that they might all die. Lottie always seemed to have this strange philosophy about space. Despite being a woman of science to the level of landing a job out here, she also always banked on the idea of space being some kind of entity. Misty was sure an asteroid could crash into them and kill them all and Lottie would call it a decision made by space. Like an all-knowing being that takes what it wants.
“How did they even let you up here, Lottie,” Shauna said.
“Houston, Gateway IDSS on 1. Our supply delivery is off course and approaching at an abnormally high speed,” Natalie said, pressing a finger to the side of her headset to speak directly to NASA.
“Gateway IDSS, Houston, we hear you, we- we were just made aware- we have been trying to abort the spacecraft but- it’s- we’re having trouble-“ CAPCOM’s voice shuddered with adrenaline. Clearly Mission Control was in shambles.
“Houston- why no warning? What can we do? It’s moving way too quickly to be stopped with Canadarm,” Natalie said, sounding more angry than terrified for her life. Misty loved her spikiness.
“We think it’s- we think it was struck by an old piece of equipment- pot- potentially a defunct satellite, Soviet Luna— we don’t know. The delivery is not responding to our override commands right now, Commander,” CAPCOM said, his tone still shivering with concern. It was rare for Houston to sound so rattled.
“Should we try to abort it on our end?” Natalie asked, moving past Misty back to the previous module. Leaving Misty briefly to stare at the fast approaching vessel. It looked as though the supply vehicle would be slamming right into the module Natalie rushed back into. Prichal2, one of the docking control modules. She shook her head quickly as if to ward off the unwelcome throwing in of any towels, and chased Natalie back to the control panel.
“Affirmative please attempt,” CAPCOM replied.
Misty watched as Natalie put in the correct sequences to take control of any given supply vehicle and abort the docking process. They then looked up above the panel at the screens to see the vehicle not moving an inch off of its kill-path. Veriably ignoring their abort command.
“I miss Progress,” Misty said. Suddenly overwhelmed by the crudeness of these Lunar deliveries. Back on the ISS, the Russian delivery spacecraft Progress allowed them to get on the manual teleoperating system TORU and pilot the damn thing themselves. There was so much that these moon-trip suited delivery vehicles couldn’t do. Being this far away made everything more difficult.
“Misty, please,” Shauna said, like Misty had done something horribly irritating by simply mentioning their older and better delivery system. Shauna just looked for things to complain about when it came to Misty. Every little thing she said was somehow demonized or criminalized. There wasn’t a day that passed on this ship where Misty hadn’t done something wrong according to Shauna Shipman.
The minutes were ticking down, and even if they were able to abort it now— it was becoming evident that it was moving too quickly to even stop and change course before it struck them.
“Houston our abort command is not working,” Natalie said, through gritted teeth. Misty watched as her sharp hands dug through brown hair, nails scraping against her scalp searching for an idea.
“I’ll try to catch it, I can try to catch it,” Misty decided, realizing that it might be the only chance they have.
“And potentially destroy the Canadarm?! Are you fucking crazy?!” Shauna’s voice snapped through the comms. Misty jolted but gently urged Natalie aside at the control panel regardless.
“It won’t matter if the Canadarm is gone if we’re all dead, Shauna,” Natalie warned, saying Shauna’s name with an intentional foulness.
“We should shelter in place and close the hatches on the module it hits. Isolate whatever is damaged, eject it, and hope our systems still work.” Tai said, sounding the most grounded next to Natalie.
“Commander Tai?” Lottie asked, cheekily. And Misty had been about to say the same thing. Since when did she call the shots? But Misty herself had also suggested operating the Canadarm, and in situations like these a group brainstorm seemed welcome.
“We should all move into the—“ Tai had tried to continue on, but was interrupted brutally by a giant crash against the outside of the station.
The Gateway jolted violently and a loud bang sent both Misty and Natalie slamming against different walls of the module. Misty cried out on impact, feeling a sharp pain in her side. And for a moment, Misty had thought that had been the supply delivery hitting them— and that, miraculously, it hadn't been so bad. They were still alive, Misty could still breathe.
She glanced over at the camera feed again only to see that the supply delivery was still on its war-path, and had not in fact hit them yet.
“IDSS, Houston, Status Report?! TDRS is down on your end!” Flight Director Benjamin Scott said, his voice a familiar comfort and somehow also a bad sign. They were in deep shit.
“What the hell just hit us?!” Shauna cried.
“We believe it may have been the same satellite that struck your delivery,” Director Scott said. “Status report please.”
“There’s no time- we-“ Lottie’s voice trembled over the comms. Misty felt a chill run through her. “Shipman, Turner and Matthews are fine.”
Misty, dizzy and clutching her aching ribs looked over at Natalie, waiting for her to provide a similar report to Houston. Instead, Misty is greeted by the horrifying picture of Natalie’s limp body floating against the diagonally slanted ceiling panels, hair floating around her face. Misty couldn’t see if her eyes were open- cold- dead— or if they were shut with simple unconsciousness. Misty felt her face twists up with premature grief.
“Scatorccio? Quigley?” Scott’s voice is a distant echo.
It didn’t look right at all, to see Commander Scatorccio this way. It looked so wrong in fact, that Misty felt herself grow nauseous. The ache in her own side now unbearably unimportant, numb in the face of Natalie’s injury.
“Commander Scatorccio, Quigley— status report please,” Ben was begging.
Misty’s gaze shifted to the rest of the module, and her heart stopped when she saw that the hatch between this module and the other two thirds of the station where the rest of the crew was located was now blocked by a large piece of inner panelling. Presumably having broken off undergoing whatever debris hit they just endured. Natalie and Misty were effectively trapped in the modules that are about to be struck by this giant supply vehicle.
Misty raised a finger to her headset, reaching out to wrap an arm around Natalie’s limp body.
“Houston, Quigley- I’m fine, Commander Scatorccio is hurt-“ Misty heard her own voice, weak and shaky, vulnerable in a way that was disgusting to listen to. A childlike pitch and a wobbly rhythm. But she was currently dragging her commander along with an arm around her waist, trudging through microgravity to the next two modules over. Hopefully sheltering from the impact point.
“Hurt- hurt how-“ CAPCOM interjected.
“Unconscious,” Misty reported. “I’m- I’m pulling her over past Cupola 3. Hopefully if the-“
Misty paused to adjust her grip on Natalie, her commander’s wiry body in her grasp so lifelessly this way- Misty felt sicker and sicker by the second.
“Hopefully when it hits we can isolate from whatever module it damages,” Misty said. “It looked to be coming for Prichal2. If I can get to Nauka3 we could-“
Misty was interrupted by what had to be the actual supply vehicle hitting them. She was holding Natalie in her arms and rushing through the enclosed tunnels that were Gateway IDSS. A desperate race to reach a safer module. The last thing she recognized before it hit them was pulling herself and her commander through the doorway to Nauka3 laboratory module. Two modules away from the Canadarm control panel in Prichal2.
Next she heard ringing and saw nothing. And she could no longer feel the warmth of Natalie’s torso against her arm.
—
Misty wasn’t sure how long she was out for. But she woke to the pretty sight of Commander Scatorccio gripping her by the shoulders and shaking her. The module they shared now, thankfully having made it into Nauka3 successfully if Misty’s eyes weren’t lying to her— was extremely dark. The emergency lights were flickering in a strange way too, and the orientation of the module felt odd. In microgravity, the orientation of everything felt odd, of course. But right now, it was even worse—- almost like they were spinning. And not in the stable sort of way a built-in centrifugal force is meant to feel. It felt violent. It was excessive. It felt deadly.
Misty looked past Natalie’s head, her angry face blurring in Misty’s vision to make way for the small window behind her. Where stars were streaking by in a way they don’t when you’re in stable halo orbit. The way they only do when you are tumbling through space. They are spinning way too fast. They are detached from the rest of the station. That much is immediately clear. Even if they had been hit incredibly hard, there was no way the big oddly shaped station could spin at this speed.
“MISTY!” Natalie called, finally grabbing Misty’s attention back. Misty’s head snapped back to lock eyes with her commander, and the severity of their situation suddenly didn’t matter at all. Natalie’s green eyes reflect their far away home in a way Misty didn’t know she needed. And while at any other time Misty might have buried away the emotion, right now she couldn’t handle it. She couldn’t help it at all. Whatever Natalie was saying, her bony hands grabbing at Misty’s shoulders, desperately begging her to listen— Misty didn’t hear a word. She just saw this earthly green and started crying.
The tears welled up so quickly Misty was almost trying to remember them when the last time she had cried had been. The sleeping quarters in Zvezda 2 were tight, and that was generous. Crying oneself to sleep is also not considered very respectful of a shared space. And Misty in adulthood was generally not a crier. Or, she tried very very hard not to be. Astronauts have a lot to cry about, but Misty’s life was much more important and valuable out in space. Wasting her important time with tears was silly. Objectively silly. On earth, where she had been stupid, dispensable, small and insignificant, sure- crying would have been alright.
But she couldn’t help it. And now Commander Scatorccio was watching tears bead up on her face and fly out into the module, taking flight like little bugs or flower petals on a windy day or something like that. And Misty felt more vulnerable than ever, and she couldn’t even find it in herself to be happy that Natalie was alive, because she knew they were on a terrible journey to their end anyway.
“A- a huh- Natalie-“ Misty sobbed, and watched through blurry eyes as Natalie’s expression shifted. Her anger dissipated quickly into bleary, sadness. Her dark eyeshadow was smudged down her cheek. Natalie frowned deeply down at Misty, and Misty felt her commander’s fingers squeeze tight around her shoulders before they crawled down around her to pull Misty into a tight hug.
“We’re dying,” Misty cried, gasping for breath in between words. She continued to sob while Natalie held her close. Misty’s parents hadn’t ever held her so close. Natalie tucked her chin over Misty’s shoulder, and Misty felt the ache in her side; whatever cracked rib she had sustained earlier start pulsing again. Throbbing almost mockingly.
“Were you- were you awake when they ejected us?” Misty asked, through tears. Natalie shook her head against Misty’s shoulder.
“No. But our tracking and data relay satellite must have been taken out with that first debris hit— they- they had to have thought we were already dead,” Natalie said.
“But why would they eject it?! Couldn’t they just close the hatches? If Prichal2 was damaged beyond use, Cupola3 and Nauka3 were still worth saving.. we could have.. figured it out..” Misty hiccuped. “Lottie could have EVA’d.. delivered suits.. got us back over.”
Natalie shook her head.
“Prichal2 was venting,” Natalie said. And she pointed out their window to where the stars were spinning by. “A little earlier, we weren’t spinning so quickly, and I saw that Prichal2 was venting. It was sending them off course. It could have sent the whole station spiralling out of control just like this.”
“So now we’re going to crash into the moon,” Misty said, bringing a hand up to rub at her eyes as Natalie gently pulled away from the hug.
“Better than everybody crashing into the moon,” Natalie said.
“Is it?” Misty asked, miserably, cruelly. Bitter.
Natalie only stares at her, grim and sad.
“Are we still connected to Prichal and Cupola?” Misty asked. “Would be nice to have a better view at least, if we’re going to die.”
“What does it look like?” Natalie asked, gesturing first to the window where the galaxy soars by, and then to the closed doorway hatch. “Actually I think we are still connected to Cupola3, but there’s no way to get this hatch open. We’re in emergency life preservation mode right now and you know how that goes.”
Right. As in, it’s a miracle they have temperature regulation and oxygen. Making any adjustments to the state of it could throw it all off and potentially kill them a lot quicker than crashing into the moon. And Misty was pretty certain she’d rather die with a quick slam than suffocation.
“How long do you think it will take?” Natalie asked her, a little guiltily, as though her sassiness had wounded Misty. It didn’t irk her at all, in actuality. It was a part of her commander that Misty admired quite a lot. Natalie Scatorccio hardly ever lost an argument with that attitude. It’s probably the same attitude that got her the commander position. And it made Misty’s face feel hot. That’s just. That part wasn’t important.
“Depends how far we’ve bounced out of orbit,” Misty said, sniffling still. “Could be that we’re actually still in it, just, spinning in a way that will undoubtedly get us thrown out of the loop eventually.”
“I doubt we’re still orbiting,” Natalie said, although it’s truly impossible to tell with how quick they’re spinning. “I was under the impression we were shooting right down towards the surface.”
“We could be,” Misty said.
“Mm.” Natalie responded.
It’s a minute of silence later when Natalie spoke again.
“Did you hear what she said?” Natalie asked, her eyebrows furrowing down suddenly, turning away from Misty as if shameful of her anger. “Lottie. That bullshit she’s always spouting.”
“Talking about space like it’s an animal?” Misty asked, almost laughing, wiping at her tears. Her face was soaked, and her head hurt from how fast they were spinning through the vacuum.
“Yes. She said it decided. She just accepts this shit. It doesn’t make for a good team member in emergencies,” Natalie muttered.
“Probably makes for a healthy mind, though,” Misty pointed out. “Can’t be worried about much if you just take it all with no objections.”
“Is that what you do?” Natalie asked, suddenly, adjusting herself so that she was holding her knees against her chest. Her comfortable position to greet death, Misty supposed. Which is just what they were criticizing Lottie for.
“Hm? What?” Misty asked, still wiping away her tears.
“Take it all with no objections?” Natalie pushed. Misty glances up at her, confused. A little hurt. What the hell does that mean. Natalie shrugged and continued.
“Shauna pretends every problem we have on this ship is because of you,” Natalie said.
“You should start using past tense,” Misty suggested.
Natalie rolled her eyes.
“Why don’t you snap back like that at Shauna? Or even, Tai and Lottie. With how they criticize you an outsider would think you’re actually the weakest link,” Natalie said. Every word punching deeper and deeper into Misty’s already fragile heart.
“I’m not the weakest link. I’m more valuable than any of them,” Misty said, squeezing her eyes shut tightly and looking away.
“I didn’t say you weren’t,” Natalie said, dragging each word out as she always did. But there was a sincere lilt to it, an upwards angle that her voice didn’t usually take. A lift of some kind. Like she had nothing left to lose. “They treated you like shit. You should have stood up for yourself.”
“This isn’t what I need right now,” Misty said. “I stood up a lot, thank you very much.”
“By going and doing more work for them to senselessly criticize?” Natalie asked. Her almost lazy drawl is still impeccable despite their situation. Dragged out low tone that Misty really never minded listening to. Even when Natalie was calling orders, at least she had this raspy hypnotic voice. The vocal fry was something she always found annoying in the girls that talked down to her. It’s alluring coming from Natalie. “You did more work than anybody else on this station combined, myself included. And you got more shit than anybody at the same time.”
“You’re the commander. Why didn’t you stand up for me? I don’t even know how you noticed. Never happens when you’re there,” Misty said.
“Why do you think that is?” Natalie asked, her eyes still and serious. And achingly green. The pacific north west. Canadian Rockies. Switzerland. The sound of Music. The Amazon rainforest. It was all there. “Because I told them a million times to cut it out, Misty. But I knew you wouldn’t want me defending you like you were helpless.”
“I actually wouldn’t have minded that,” Misty said.
“What? But you’re… so ..I thought it would hurt your pride,” Natalie admitted.
“Not worse than being alone,” Misty shrugged, tears finally drying up.
“What? You’re not.. you’re not alone,” Natalie said.
“Felt like it,” Misty said. “I thought for a long time that we were friends here, but.”
Misty sighed, struggling to find the words to finish. It felt stupid now. None of it mattered. They were going to die on the surface of the moon because the Russians sent out shitty satellites in the 60s and nobody on the Gateway ever considered Misty even something of an acquaintance. Her eyes stung again, frustratingly.
“I’m your friend, Misty,” Natalie said, reaching out to place a hand atop Misty’s, placed on her thigh. Misty’s headache was getting worse by the minute, but the contact was a nice distraction.
“Don’t just tell me that because we’re dying, please,” Misty asked politely.
“I wouldn’t lie about that,” Natalie said. “And since when do you assume the worst in people?”
“Since I realized people never look for any good in me,” Misty bit back, cringing and knocking her forehead down into her knees immediately afterwards. It sounded bitter and childish. Two things Misty didn’t ever enjoy being. The second especially. The constant belittlement she received from those in her classes, and then eventually, in the workplace- it shrank her. A ball of unregulated acidity and rigidity. “Did you know Shauna blamed me when she got herself locked in the cryo module? I was actually the ONLY person who had an alibi. I was the only person who was actually doing something important and couldn’t have possibly been guilty. But she treated me like I tried to kill her. She thinks I’m a maniac or something.”
”That’s because she’s a maniac,” Natalie drawled. Misty huffed out a small tearful laugh. “It’s projection. I wouldn’t even be surprised if Shauna has actually already killed somebody back on earth. She just carries that sort of energy.”
”Energy? You sound like Lottie now,” Misty said, before sighing. “I think NASA is too tight with their background checks to have missed Shauna’s murder charge.”
”I don’t know..” Natalie said, strangely, quietly. Trailing off like Misty should take something from this. Were the background checks bullshit? Was Shauna actually a serial murderer? What was she getting at?
“How do you feel about going out this way, Commander?” Misty asked a little sharply, only because she had already embarrassed herself too immensely to carry on in the spotlight. “You have people down there waiting to hear from you? Mom? Dad?”
And Misty knew she’d fucked it up when Scatorccio’s face had twitched. Upon the word ‘dad’, a full body tremor, a jolt, ran through her. And her mouth bolted downwards like it had been clipped or tugged at. And even though her face was back to normal in an instant, Misty crawled towards her.
Uncoordinated and messy, on hands and knees in the spinning module, Misty placed herself against Natalie. Sides glued together, Natalie shook her head and brushed a floaty curl out of Misty’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Misty said, not really knowing what it was about ‘dad’ that had stung, but apologetic nonetheless.
“I’m sorry too,” Natalie shrugged. “I’m sure you actually do have parents down there waiting for you, huh?”
“We’re saying.. ‘down there’ like we’re orbiting earth right now,” Misty almost laughed. “But uh. No. They don’t speak to me. No.”
“Why the hell don’t they?” Natalie asked, turning with a great gesture towards Misty as though she is something to behold. “You’re in one of the most critical roles in humankind’s advancement. You studied for years and years and you’re in one of the most prestigious and important positions .. ever! We’re extremely high achievers. Nobody is as high as us. There’s no excuse for them not to speak to you. They should be bragging about you.”
“They don’t like me,” Misty said, like it makes sense. Like she accepted it, even though she had cried herself to sleep many a time throughout her adult life wondering why it was this way. Even though not a hair on her accepted a bit of it.
“What kind of answer is that,” Natalie said. “My mom isn’t waiting for me because she’s a drunk idiot and she probably can’t tell yesterday from today. At least she has an excuse.”
Misty noted that Natalie didn’t mention her father. What she noted it for, when death was so imminent? Misty wasn’t sure.
“Can we tell yesterday from today very well?” Misty asked.
“Why do they not like you,” Natalie asked again, ignoring the very good point Misty made.
“I don’t know, Scatorccio! I’ll never know now. I have no answer for you,” Misty said. “I usually have an answer for everything but this is the one thing I can’t provide. Alright? They just don’t like me. Maybe it’s the way I talk or something I did. I don’t know. It’s the same with Shipman. And Turner sometimes.”
“Well.” Natalie huffed. “I like you.”
“I like you too. I’d.. I’d follow your lead just about anywhere. In the middle of the forest or something,” Misty said. “You’re a good leader. Fair. You deserved the job.”
“Always thought you were jealous about that,” Natalie sighed. Misty didn’t like how they were both already speaking in past tense.
“I was. Am.” Misty said. “But you’re better. They would never have listened to me.”
Natalie pointedly doesn’t respond to that. Probably because it’s definitely true, and Misty would rather not die with that part being unnecessarily backed up by a second opinion.
“I’m sorry they didn’t have more respect. Your time up here should have been better,” Natalie said. Like she’s solely responsible for everybody’s little behaviours. They’re not highschoolers, and they’re not on a television drama. If anybody was in charge of how Misty was feeling, it was Misty. If anything, she should have went to Shauna and Taissa and told them to stop being so hard on her. Stop always assuming the worst. What did she even do to cultivate that image for herself? She never picked on anybody. She kept to herself and did her work. Her only friend in adulthood was her pet bird back on..
“Oh my god..” Misty sobbed, allowing her head to crash into her hands again. Natalie pulled back to get a better look at her, eyebrows furrowed.
“What.. what? What is it?” Natalie asked, the concern sounded so real that it almost made Misty feel warm. Some other really questionable final-moments feelings were also rising. But the overwhelming sense of grief was bigger than all of that right then.
“My bird… My bird on earth.. I’ll never see her again..” Misty whimpered.
”Your… bird.” Natalie said, a little flatly. Misty ignored the tone and carried on crying. The next sob felt like a heart attack, her shoulders halting all hiked up and her breath just refusing to leave her lungs. Natalie rushed forward to hug her again for some reason. That’s weird. Usually when she brings up the bird thats when everyone decides they’ve had enough.
”My bir- r- r - d..” Misty cried, her shaky sobs breaking through the word several times. Natalie only squeezed her tight. “I’ll never get to feed her again or.. or.. chat with her and.. or clean her cage or.. let her fly and..”
“She’s one of those ones that lives a long time? You were never worried about her out here?” Natalie asked, shockingly kindly. The hug was still extraordinarily tight.
“Yes.. my neighbour watches her for a very good price..” Misty said.
“That’s very sweet. You took great care of her,” Natalie said.
“You used- pa- a - a- ast tense…” Misty sobbed. Her tears were soaking Natalie’s shoulder.
“I’m sure she’ll always remember you and love you, Misty,” Natalie said. “And hey. There's one of us who has someone back home that cares. That’s better than our previous tally of zero.”
”.. I guess,” Misty hiccuped. ”She probably thinks I abandoned her..”
Natalie pulls back again, hands gripping both of Misty’s shoulders. She stares at her.
“Was she a smart bird?” Natalie asked.
“The smartest,” Misty nodded weakly.
“Then she knows you were up here on the final frontier of science. Risking your life to expand human knowledge. She knows,” Natalie told her, entirely seriously. ”And you’re lucky we’re dying because I’d never play into this shit if we weren’t.”
Misty offers a very very small smile at that. Tears just barely pausing on the ends of her lashes and building up tall on her waterline. Her vision was entirely blurry, but somehow Natalie still looked great. Misty was feeling very touched, almost more touched than scared about death. Nobody had ever tried to comfort her this way.
“What‘s her name?” Natalie asked, letting Misty go and attaching herself to her side again. The warmth of Natalie next to her instead of all around her is only slightly less fantastic. “Your bird.”
“Caligula,” Misty whispered. Natalie hums.
”I don’t know whatever bullshit that’s a reference to, but I’m sure I’d hate it,” Natalie said.
“Probably,” Misty agreed, a stray tear slipping by the gates. It slid down her cheek and Misty quickly brought her sleeve up to wipe it away. Natalie beat her to it. Absently bringing her knuckles to softly brush over Misty’s cheek. The touch felt completely new to Misty. Completely foreign. Would it be corny and stupid to call it otherworldly? Could Misty get a pass because she was about to die?
It seemed like Natalie felt it too, whatever it was, because she froze like her movement had been automatic. Like she had surprised herself with the intimate act.
Misty wondered then, embarrassingly, if in another life they may have worked well together. Worked well in a setting more domestic than a work environment. Something like city life. Or quiet small town life up close to the Canadian border. Which would Natalie like more? Was she a city person?
“Can we be friends?” Misty asked, in a way that sounded wholly unprepared. Like the words had just fallen out of her unwillingly. It would at least be nice to go out with a single friend. “I don’t know if we ever would have really connected if we weren’t put in this position, but..”
Misty trailed off, and Natalie was gazing at her with an intensity that made Misty’s chest fill in a cold prickly way.
“We’re friends,” Natalie said, like it was non-negotiable. In that serious commander way. “We would have. Connected. Eventually.”
Misty stared at her, looking slightly upward at her shining dark eyes. Misty could almost see her own image reflected in them. She opened her mouth to reply. “..okay.”
They stared at each other a little longer, and then Natalie pulled Misty into a tight squeeze again. Her hand came up behind Misty’s head to press her into her own neck. Misty melted into it, wrapping her arms desperately around Natalie’s torso, fingers clawing up her back to lightly bunch up her shirt. She shut her eyes and leaned further into the embrace, her chest cold again and her heart pounding.
It’s a couple minutes of this tight hug before Misty decided to completely throw it all away. Who gives a fuck. She was dead anyway. Her life’s work amounting to god knows what. All of her years of studying. Not a single relationship. No long term home. No human who would attend her funeral. What did it matter?
“Natalie?” Misty mumbled, muffled into Natalie’s neck. Her skin was hot, maybe even indicating a fever. She had hit her head awfully hard earlier, when Misty had been half convinced she was dead. Before the bigger impact. When she had been floating weightless and beautiful.
“Did you have a.. partner?” Misty asked, probably too nervous for what she was intending to pull off.
“Not for a long time,” Natalie said, in a wistful way that sounded wrong coming from her. And the second it came it’s gone. She followed it with a deadpan few words. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I…” Misty hesitated. It was a good thing that there was no black box in this thing. Nobody would ever know that she’d never had been worth anything to anyone. “I just wish I got to know it’s like.”
Natalie was silent, hand still firm on the back of Misty’s head, before she pulled her back. They could see each other’s eyes again, and immediately Misty felt incredibly exposed.
“Uh- I- I mean-“ Misty felt herself tearing up, it couldn’t get any worse. Natalie would laugh at her and she’d lose the ounce of comfort— the one and only friend she had before they crashed and died.
“Never?” Natalie asked, softly. “You never? With anyone?”
Misty shook her head no and bit her lip. Troubled suddenly by flashes of girls in highschool telling her nobody would ever love her. Mocking whatever crush they decided she harboured. Making up stories about her so that she would seem even more repulsive and unattractive.
“Never dated?” Natalie clarified, if only to pour salt on the wound. Misty almost felt silly for being so sad about it. Based on Natalie’s brief hints at her childhood it seemed she dealt with much worse than being unfuckable. Misty shook her head anyways and sniffled. Natalie looked almost angry. Angry at what?
“How?” She asked, leaving Misty completely confused. “How the fuck have you never been with anybody?”
“..what?”
“You’re so cute, Misty,” Natalie told her, grabbing at her face again in this terribly exciting way that Misty had never known before. And Natalie’s voice is still low and scratchy and gorgeous. “I don’t know who would say no to you.”
“Natalie?”
“You want to fix it?” Natalie asked, ambiguously.
“Fix what?”
“You want to know what it’s like?” Natalie asked again. Misty couldn’t help the way her mouth fell open. She nodded, wordlessly, making no sound apart from her heart trying to get out of her chest.
Natalie leaned forward, and Misty could feel her breath against her lips, they were that close. It tickled, and the feeling of being centimetres apart made her whole face light up with a tingling sort of anticipatory sensation, like they were already connected all over. Natalie looked so perfect, like a battle-scarred knight in a wartorn kingdom. She had blood running down from somewhere in her perfect head of hair, and it only served to make her look tougher. Her thin but toned arms came up again to caress at Misty’s face, and then-
Before she knew it the hands were holding her more purposefully, and Misty felt Natalie’s lips against her own. Pressing lightly and making a small sound between them. Misty’s eyes fluttered shut, maybe for good, and she kissed back as best she could as a first-timer. It felt magical. Natalie’s hands remained cradling her face, and Misty let her own trail up and grab at Natalie’s hair.
They broke apart for mere milliseconds to breathe, Misty didn’t even have enough time or the desire to open her eyes before they went back in.
And slowly, the setting in which she was having this beautiful experience faded away. The rapidly spinning module was nothing to her. The fast approaching surface of the moon was irrelevant. The loneliness she had carried for her whole life had no hold on her. Not when Natalie was holding her instead. It was all gone. Every snide comment from Shauna, every sleepless night in zvezda 2, all of her feelings of inadequacy. None of it was anything anymore. Misty pushed in closer until they we’re virtually attached everywhere. Until they were inseparable.
They kissed until Misty wasn’t sure how long it had been. And she would never know. The module collided with the surface of the moon in a great explosion of debris. Misty wouldn’t know that. They both died with reddened lips. They died holding each other. An embrace only space would ever know of.