Chapter Text
Eva Stratt was gonna be sick.
She looked at her screen in absolute horror.
--
Several hours earlier.
"Stratt, we have news on the re-entry" Jeremiah, spoke loudly while entering the room, all four made it and are currently being checked for what they contain."
"It seems the beetles were programmed well," Stratt said softly in response, "My astronauts have served me well."
The years, harder on her than she'd ever hope to realize. The young man beside her won't ever know the life before all of this, and you can tell by the look of him.
"Yeah" Jeremiah said more softly before continuing, "Do you need anything, coffee? Tea?" His eyes, serious and unforgiving, even for a small question.
But before Stratt could respond, a crackle of static came from Stratt's communicator.
"We have received specimen samples and several terabytes worth of videos, and notes on the specimens, which are being analyzed now as we speak. How should we proceed?"
On the other end was her top scientist– a scientist who she can't even bother to remember their name, because over the years she stopped trying after the original crew.
"Tea," a simple response to Jeremiah, standing by the doorway who promptly the leaves. She then grabs the communicator, "have a team analyze the videos for additional info on the crew."
As much as it would bring her joy to see some familiar faces, Stratt would not allow herself such a luxury.
–
Hours pass, and the verdict on the videos from the analysis team was that it was essential viewing for Stratt.
Stratt didn't like that. Normally, she wouldn't be pushed by a team of underpaid professionals, but the urgency that they showed proved she needed to as her own curiosity would tear her apart otherwise.
So now she sits at her desk with what she was told was hours, upon hours of vlogs from the Hail Mary.
She opens one.
–
"Hello!" Ryland Grace, in what appears to be a toga of bed sheets appeared on screen, "Tis I– Emperor Comatose, and I have taken over this ship, and in true Pirate fashion I will–"
The video cuts.
Stratt chuckles at the sad, but funny amnesia induced state. She only wishes she was there to see Yao and Ilyukhina's faces.
Ryland is now fully clothed.
"Greetings. Earth. My name is Ryland Grace. I have no idea how or why I am here, and to make matters worse I'm all alone." The man in the video looks down at his hands and then back to the camera, tears forming in his eyes.
Stratt felt a pit in her stomach.
"I woke up on this ship, the Hail Mary, and I don't know why I'm here, or what I have to do. But what I do know is I am alone, and far–" his voice cracks as he holds in tears, "Far away from home, and that I am alone."
He takes a shaky breath before continuing, eyes red flushed from the very obvious cry he probably had before recording– or this was perhaps the best take of what he had to say that he felt comfortable with sharing with Earth.
But besides that, all Stratt could really think about is his emphasis on being alone. He had no reason to be confused on his mission, let alone, duh, alone. He has– no sorry– had a crew of two others.
"Iluykhina Olesya and Commander Yao passed away on the flight here. I don't remember much about them, but what I do know is they probably died a long time before I woke up. I don't know why or if there was something I could have done–" he stops, clearly sobbing now, no longer able to voice his clear frustrations, and shortly thereafter the video cuts again.
Grace appeared once more.
"I put them in the airlock and held a funeral for them. I don't know if that was protocol or not, but I don't care. I cant– I cant have them in the dorm any more. I can't sleep in there either– It's too much. I know I'm here on this mission, but what if I mess up? What if I fail? What if they chose the wrong guy?" He pauses, and takes a breath.
"I'm scared. I'm so fudgin scared right now, and I don't know what I'm going to do now. It's been a week since I woke up and I'm scared."
His eyes look to the camera, with a soft pleading
Stratt looks at the screen softly. Even at his base level, he doubted himself. Typical. However, she found it much more disconcerting that he was left alone on his mission. To bear all that weight by your lonesome was too much.
The video cuts again. He sits in front of the camera, and looks up.
"So I met an alien."
Stratt nearly spits out her tea.
"He's kinda growing on me. At least he's not growing IN me, you know? Which was a concern for a little while."
Slightly concerned, Stratt noticed Grace's background. Although it was obscured, there was a lot of just stuff. She shrugs the thought off, messiness was normal in his case.
"His name is Rocky."
Stratt looks at the video with fondness as he describes his encounter with the alien, a welcoming, albeit nervous first contact with humanity and this new species.
Perhaps, this new species was in fact the clue to figuring out the Petrova Line-- their solution and reason for the Beetles' return.
At least he isn't alone anymore. The video cuts yet again.
"He has incredible hearing. He can see through walls. Personal space is at a premium…" Grace whispers, and then tilts the camera to a space further back in the ship.
Nothing was there.
Then in a slightly altered voice, accented and more nasally he states, "Who is Grace talking to Question?"
Stratt stares at the screen, baffled.
"No one." He continues, now in his normal voice, and then in a hushed whisper, "Look how far away he is."
He points the camera again, with nothing visibly there. Again, in this weird voice, he speaks again.
"Hello Grace Friend!"
Stratt was gonna be sick.
Grace was alone and hallucinating.