Chapter Text
The cramped cockpit of the Hail Mary was bathed in the warm glow of the console lights. Rocky was curled over the communication system on his side of the divided ship, brown carapace hunched over the contraption and glinting in the amber lighting. He’d been at it for hours.
“Almost done, Grace.” He said, voice pitched with an excited trill. He pressed a few buttons with one limb while another adjusted dials for clarity.
Grace watched his friend work, chin propped on his hand. Four years past the mission's planned end and the ship's systems were somehow still holding together. He suspected less because of equipment quality and more because Rocky repaired everything before it could break. They'd both been going a little stir crazy without a real mission to guide them. This, apparently, counted as one.
"Rocky MacGyver radio," Rocky had announced a few hours ago, delighted with himself. Grace had needed the translator for that one. Rocky had picked the word up years back and had clearly been saving it. "We can talk to Erid now."
He seriously regretted allowing him so much unsupervised time in the Don’t-Go-Crazy Room.
After several minutes of adjustments - deleting parts where he sounded too stiff or nervous - he finally settled on one version.
Grace leaned as close to the barrier as he could. "You sure it sounds alright?"
“Yes, Yes. We listen to draft now.” Rocky pointed behind him, and Grace grabbed the laptop, already open and waiting.
He tapped the trackpad and Rocky's recorded voice filled the cockpit.
"Is prerecorded message. Greetings. Is Engineer Rocky of Tau Ceti Mission, broadcast from alien ship: 'Last Hope.' We found solution to Star-Eater Problem and begin process to save sun." A brief pause, then his tone became more urgent. "Am travel with other star-saver. Alien called ‘Grace’. It weak, and suffer from severe nutrition deficiency. It require immediate medical assessment at arrival. Estimate arrival at Erid in fifty-six Eridian day from transmission. Message repeat on this frequency until contact made.”
A soft chime, then the countdown to repeat.
Grace leaned back in his pilot's chair, rubbing his eyes. "You're sure about the wording? The fragile and starving part- isn't that a little dramatic? I don't want them panicking before we even get there."
Rocky made an exasperated gesture, something like look at yourself.
Grace glanced down at his own thin frame, bruised from a dozen vitamin deficiencies. Fair enough.
“Is important for Eridian scientist prepare to assist Grace.” He reached out and placed a claw against the xenonite. “Grace precious.”
Heat rushed to his cheeks. "Right. Well. I'll try not to break in the next twelve days."
"Good. Rocky not want to clean leaky alien mess." A trilled, chuckling sound.
Grace changed the subject, fast. "It doesn't sound like I'm holding you hostage, right? That’d be a first impression for humanity."
"No. In all situation, Rocky is one hold Grace hostage."
"Hey!" He shoved the barrier lightly. "So, ready to send it?"
Rocky gave excited jazz hands and looped the recording into the outgoing transmission cycle.
Grace looked toward the porthole. No window faced Erid, just distant stars, giving no sign of how close they really were. Twelve days, and they'd know if anyone was listening.
Grace sat in the cockpit, preparing the ship for the docking with the Eridian space elevator that would occur in two days.
The hum of the Hail Mary’s engines were always loud, a comforting reminder that they were on track to their destination: Erid. Each pulse of astrophage, like the ship's heartbeat, pushing them through space meant they were that bit closer to safety.
Today, the sound was the same as always, a steady hum, but Grace wouldn’t let himself be soothed by it. Something was off.
He’d woken up that morning with a feeling of dread, a deep pit of anxiety in his stomach. Rocky had been concerned, noticing his nervous mood, but Grace had only shooed him off.
From the pilot's chair, a flashing light on the dashboard caught his attention, and moments later Mary’s computerised voice spoke overhead, “Blip A detected.” Devoid of any urgency or alarm. No klaxons, no flashing warning lights, just a polite feminine voice.
His stomach dropped.
Grace’s hands hovered over the controls as he watched the faint white trajectory line of something outside the Mary. A small object; high velocity and closing in fast from the front-left of the ship. Not a friendly alien spaceship this time. An asteroid.
Mary was programmed to avoid minor debris on her own without panicking human operators over every space pebble, but something this large and fast would require human intervention.
Grace knew space. Knew how unpredictable it could be. But they’d travelled nearly four years, and only now, two days away from their destination did something unexpected happen. It was terrible timing. Unfortunately, asteroids weren’t polite and didn’t wait for an invitation.
“Rocky, brace!” It was all he could yell to warn his friend of the incoming manoeuvre before he had to focus.
He set the ship to manual, prepared it for evasive action, and pressed his hand down on the thruster.
The Hail Mary groaned slightly as the engines flared. The ship lurched and the sudden G-force pushed Grace hard into his chair. He hoped Rocky had had time enough to brace.
Anything that hadn’t been tethered went flying across the ship and clattered into the back wall. He heard a loud heavy crash from further inside the ship. Some piece of lab equipment that was loose most likely.
The ship shuddered and for a terrifying moment the overhead lights flickered off before an angry whine came from somewhere in the ceiling and they stabilised again,
The asteroid missed them by metres- close enough that Grace watched as it streaked past the cockpit window in a blur of grey rock.
Grace double-checked the proximity radar. No more space debris was incoming.
He sighed with relief and slowed the ship to its typical speed and direction, hurtling towards Erid at a steadily slowing pace. More things crashed to the floor with the adjustment.
“Rocky! Everything’s ok now!” Grace yelled out from his seat.
Silence.
Rocky’s hearing was near-perfect; there was no way he hadn’t heard him.
“Rocky?” He yelled, a little louder
Still nothing.
Slowly, he unbuckled his seatbelt, still listening for a reply from his friend.
Something was wrong.
With growing urgency he scrambled out of the pilot's chair and began his sprint down the cramped corridor towards the main room, careful to avoid the random items that had been thrown in the chaos. Something crackled and sparked overhead, wires exposed and damaged where a panel had been knocked loose. He threw an arm up on instinct as he ducked past it.
“Rocky?” He shouted again as he rounded the corner into the main room, heart hammering in his chest.
Any further words died in his throat.
His run slowed to a walk as he got closer. Rocky was slumped against the wall on his side of the xenonite divider. His carapace was cracked diagonally on one side. The deep fissure seeped dark metallic blood leaving a silvery pool on the metal floor.
His breath, previously short and shallow, hitched.
No… no no no. Not again. This couldn’t be happening again. They were so close.
The memory of the planet Adrian incident hit him. Rocky’s screams as Grace passed out against the dashboard, the sting of air tinged with the smell of ammonia and something burning. Rocky had saved him that day.
And now here Rocky was, hurt again because of him. Because he hadn’t given a proper warning or made sure he was properly secured.
“Rocky? Come on, buddy. Don’t do this. You can’t do this.” His voice cracked with fear. “You’re almost home. You’re almost back to Adrian.”
Grace pressed his palms against the clear wall that separated them, searching for any sign of life. There was nothing. No way to tell if Rocky was just sleeping it off, or worse.
Grace pressed closer until his forehead touched the warm surface. His eyes scanned every inch of Rocky’s body.
There was nothing he could do. No way he could check if he was alive from this side of the divider. He’d just have to wait it out like last time.
His breath came in short, frantic gasps, fogging the transparent xenonite. His friend looked so small. So fragile. So still.
No movement or sound where there should have been Rocky’s sarcastic clicks and hums
A sob tore through him and his words came out as a broken whisper. “Please. Please wake up soon.”
Grace collapsed backward against the xenonite, legs too weak from the shock and subsequent adrenaline crash to hold him up. He stared up at the ceiling and watched one of the damaged lights strobe. Somewhere under the panic was a colder thought he didn't want to look at directly: ‘What if he doesn’t wake up at all this time?’
“I’ll watch you sleep.” He took a fortifying breath. “We’ll get to Erid and I’ll find you someone who can help.” He spoke aloud, stroking his arm self-soothingly. “Hey, maybe you’ll wake up before then?” But he knew it was unlikely. Last time Rocky was injured this badly it had been nearly a week before he woke up. They were only two days away from Erid now, and had planned to make radio contact in a few hours.
"Just hold on, Buddy," he whispered. "Just hold on until we get home."