Work Text:
Do you know how to fix it?
I do not know how to fix it either.
There are too many buttons that do nothing.
We attempted the hand scan.
It did not stop the meltdown.
We looked at the manual.
It said Hold To Stop Meltdown.
We did.
It did not stop the meltdown.
We tried to call for help.
They said Hold To Stop Meltdown.
We did.
It did not stop the meltdown.
It is only us here.
You rely upon me.
I rely upon you.
But we are only two unpaid interns.
We are not in control.
I think the reactor might be broken.
I mean double broken.
None of the fixes will work.
The reactor is broken.
It cannot be fixed.
We cannot fix it.
There is nothing we can do to fix it.
There is nothing we can do.
I think we are going to die.
I do not want to die.
I am scared.
Will you hold me?
Please hold me.
Even tighter than that.
As tight as you possibly can.
I do not care if it hurts.
You hold me and it does not stop the meltdown.
We are going to die.
You were my best friend.
Nobody ever understood me like you did.
I relied upon you.
You relied upon me.
Why is this happening?
Is there a reason this had to happen to us?
I do not know either.
Knowing it would not make me any less afraid.
Please do not let go of me.
You are my best friend.
I am very scared.
You are scared like me.
You understand.
You understand me.
You are the same as me.
We are the same.
We are going to die together.
I love you.
If anyone could have failed a mission this badly, of course it would be Pink’s favorite employees. After having the audacity to show up empty-handed of the Ore+, the other executives had advised splitting them up for questioning. However, Pink made the final call, and they insisted they were brought to them together. For old times’ sake.
At first Red had been nervous around their boss as always, beating around the bush about what exactly had occurred. But then Purple put a hand on Red’s shoulder and suddenly the two of them were sharing a heart-to-heart right in the middle of Pink’s office as if they couldn’t hear because of time-out huddle logic.
When it seemed they were ready, Pink patiently folded their hands atop their desk and asked again for the captain’s report.
The captain unapologetically bragged about throwing out the entire shipment of Ore+ on purpose. The entire rest of their crew had died all because of those eggs. Red wasn’t signing any agreements this time. They were done with MIRA. They flipped Pink not one but two middle fingers.
Was this really the same Red who had signed their loyalty to MIRA Corporation? The yes-mate who never stepped out of line? The one Pink had taken under their wing?
What a surprise.
As Red went on and on about how they refused to stay MIRA’s puppet on their honor as a captain, Pink’s gaze was drawn to Purple who stood at Red’s side glowering at Pink like this was all their personal fault. If looks could kill, they would have mysteriously split in twain.
Pink’s visor narrowed with veiled amusement.
Purple had real potential way back when. How they could have had such a strong moral compass as to decide giving up on their life dreams was worth it to what, boycott ‘unsafe working conditions’, was beyond confounding.
Red had begged for them to take Purple off the blacklist when they were finalizing the assembled mission crew. As the Chief Executive Officer entrusted with making decisions that benefit the company, Pink shouldn’t have entertained it. But it was entertaining.
They had their hiring officials extend the offer to Purple, and what did they know—
Tossed out that moral compass like junk to come crawling back for a few beans. Job market must be really rough out there. Pink had a good chuckle about that one in private.
Though they supposed Purple would want to quit again now.
After Red concluded their angry tirade denouncing the entire company, Pink calmly informed them that they had recorded them plainly stating that they intentionally broke the contract. Pink now held evidence they assumed responsibility for millions in damages.
Red’s visor gleamed with defiance as they spat that Pink was a corrupt bastard and to sue them and see what happens, the truth will come out, something about justice for the dearly departed and their beloved-atives, plus they didn’t even get hazard pay, cheapskate.
Although Red’s wording was crude, the sentiment was sincere enough to shine through. Red looked towards Purple, seeking approval. Purple gave them an awkward but encouraging thumbs-up. Once upon a time, they had been torn separate ways. Now they aligned in spite.
Pink stood and leaned their tall form over their desk. The moment of camaraderie between Red and Purple vanished so quickly as they turned to stare at them like startled prey. Like Pink was an alien.
Living a planned out life in board meetings and press conferences got dreadfully boring. Pink had developed an interest in the dynamic between the two and the power they held over it, how they could nudge them one way or another yet always end up surprised.
Pink would not have fired Red and Purple. Pink would have absolved them if they changed their minds and wanted to stay with MIRA after all, even with all the Ore+ they had killed.
They could have kept climbing the ladder Pink tossed just for them. They could have been executives someday.
They could have lived forever as coworkers in corporate bliss.
They were so sad to have to let them go.
Red is dead.
Purple is walking to the funeral parlor. Purple is late.
They get there and open the door.
It’s mostly empty, but everyone from the Skeld is there for some reason that Purple doesn’t question.
Purple would feel weird sitting in the back because they had been close to Red, but they don’t want to be noticed when they’re so late, so they try to sneak up the side instead of going down the center aisle.
Green quietly scoots over to make room for them on the bench, and Purple sits down.
Immediately Orange spots Purple and calls them up to tell everyone what Red meant to them.
Purple doesn’t even know what to say, can they have like a minute, hey wait, but Orange pushes them up to the podium.
They look at the small crowd.
Black is hardly sad at all, they look like they’re having fun actually. They like funerals.
Cyan sits next to them. Cyan is trembling like a bucket of ice had been dumped over them. They’re on the verge of tears even though Purple hasn’t said anything yet.
Green is bouncing their leg nervously, staring straight at Purple.
White tugs uncomfortably at their collar and fans themself. It is pretty stuffy in here.
Sitting together, Yellow and Brown glare at Red’s body with icy coldness and heated anger, but they both stay silent. This is a funeral.
Lime mutters prayers to themself in another language.
Next to them, Blue quietly flips through their anthology of elegiac poetry, possibly preparing to try and find one that matches Purple’s experience of grief. Good luck.
Orange folds their hands patiently standing nearby.
Take your time, Orange says, and that feels kind of condescending but whatever, Purple will take their time, thanks.
They look at Red’s body. Their feelings are so complicated, they don’t even know where to start. Hell, there’s stuff Purple can’t even say out loud to themself, let alone announce to everyone.
It doesn’t have to be that deep, though. Orange probably just wants to cover the bases.
Stock bereavement phrases should work.
Purple clears their throat.
Red brightened up every room, etcera etcera. Aw shucks, it really sucks that Red is dead now.
Purple looks to Orange again. Orange makes a motion with their hand for Purple to go on.
Uh, okay. Red was Purple’s… best friend.
And they have memories of them.
At least 65% of them are positive, Purple estimates as they tilt their hand side to side.
Brown and Yellow lean over and whisper to each other. Purple swallows, avoiding their gazes and staring down at the microphone pointed their way.
They continue: Red’s absence will surely be felt. By Purple, of course, and probably some others, too.
Cough.
Wow it’s quiet, Purple observes aloud, they could use some music. Red would definitely want that. Someone should put on a playlist of really dramatic orchestral RPG OSTs in here.
Purple is met with a few mildly confused stares. They push their hands on the podium and awkwardly sway a little as they look at Red’s body again. Red is dead.
Purple was about to continue by saying Red was a good captain, because that was Red’s whole thing, but they’re currently faced with everyone that died on their crew because of their incompetence as a leader.
They divert course and say Red was a good crewmate.
Green takes off their hat in a display of respect.
Black rolls their visor at the cliche.
Cyan nods sadly as their tears silently fall, a bleeding heart.
Blue leans across and kindly offers them a tissue.
Um, yeah, that’s all Purple really had to say.
But if they could have some space to, uh, talk to Red on their own, like for closure—
Orange says thank you for sharing, Purple, but we’re running behind schedule here.
Lime gets up and flicks holy water onto Red’s body.
Red wipes it off their face, sits up, stretches until their back cracks, then hops out.
All the rest of the crewmates stand too and gradually filter out towards the exit, murmuring to one another in pairs or trios, some more excited and some more reluctant to leave.
Red goes up to Purple and puts their hand on their shoulder. They say Purple did great up there.
Thanks for calling them their best friend.
Red leaves Purple with a pat on the shoulder and rushes to follow the crew.
Almost everybody has already left.
Herding the last stragglers through the door is Green, who chipperly waves and says see ya later, Purps!
After Red’s through, Green takes a giddy step out, shutting the door behind them.
Purple is left standing frozen by the empty casket.
Suddenly, they regain control of their body, yelling wait! Where are you going!
They run after them, sprinting down the aisle, pulling open the door—
But looking outside, everyone is already gone without a trace.
Red?
Anyone?
Oh, right, of course.
Their bodies could never be recovered. They were lost in outer space.
They’re probably all off to some kind of afterlife now. Damn.
Purple goes back inside the now completely empty funeral parlor.
They walk toward the casket slowly.
Purple hesitates for a moment, glancing around before pulling their upper body over the edge, lifting their legs up and climbing inside.
They squirm until they’ve righted themself, now laying on their back and squinting at the yellowish ceiling light before shutting their vision.
Look— Purple can be dead, too! Red isn’t special.
They wait.
May their crew come back to collect them.
Red follows the footprints in the sand.
There is a cool breeze on the beach as they walk.
It is sunrise or sunset, still dark enough that the stars are out reflecting crystal clear on the ocean like outer space has come down to land in a giant puddle.
At the end of the trail they find Purple sitting there.
Red turns their head to look where they’re looking.
Waves crash and spread onto the shore.
They look back.
Purple is still watching the ocean.
Red knows they’ve been to the beach together before, but they can’t remember exactly when.
It must have been very long ago.
Maybe even in another life.
Red asks if they could start over and be friends again.
Purple says yes.
Purple asks if they could build a sandcastle.
Red says yes.
Purple stands, and they get to work.
Scooping wet sand.
Patting it down.
Constructing a stable foundation before building up towers.
Towering towers, they are.
Taller than themselves.
They dig a massive moat with their bare hands.
The excavated sand is used for the walls connecting the towering towers.
The tallest walls.
When they are done, they step back.
Their sandcastle.
The sandcastle makes Purple happy.
Red wants to live in it.
But there is a storm.
Now the coastal surge crashes in.
Does their castle fall, or does it stand?
Crewmates are instinctually wired to help each other.
Crewmates evolved as a eusocial species. They lived in colonies, just like ants. They survived by working together to achieve larger goals. Trust was a given. There was no disadvantage.
Then the crewmates worked together to build spacecraft to explore outside of their native planet, because when they all worked together they could do it, and because they all got kinda bored and wanted to check if there was cool stuff up there.
After this, murders started to happen far more frequently. Trust was not a given anymore. Everyone had to look out for themselves now.
Of course as we know, this was because parasitic aliens from outer space started parasitizing crewmates and infiltrating their social structure.
Crewmates are an incredibly intelligent species with incredibly simple biology; they are the ideal host. The aliens can do so much in their bodies.
Usually what they do is kill, because they are aliens who like to kill.
However, some can resist the urge because of an even stronger urge to protect their eggs. These impostors gain trust.
Trust, from crewmates, is power over them. Power over crewmates creates a workforce.
Do you see where this is going?
MIRA Corporation treats its employees as family: A neverending supply of vessels for their babies to use.
As for its management, MIRA’s executives scope out only the best and brightest crewmates to bestow unto their spawn come time to pass down their leadership.
However, some may secretly choose their personal favorite employees. (This is called cronyism.)
Those who have figured out what MIRA actually is are shunned. They are called crazy. The corporation is older than anybody alive and holds an astronomical amount of power and influence. Everybody knows only what MIRA wants them to know and thinks only what MIRA wants them to think.
There are a lot of crewmates who have suffered at MIRA’s hands, countless tragedies that had been covered up, even more that never came to light to begin with.
But when you have a lot of crewmates, they will work together to build spacecraft.
Crewmates are instinctually wired to help each other.
Red is dead.
Purple is hurrying to the funeral parlor. Purple is running late.
They get there and throw open the door.
It’s a mostly empty funeral parlor yadda yadda everyone from the Skeld is there you know the drill.
Purple strides down the center aisle, disregards all social etiquette and pulls Red out of the casket. There’s all this commotion, but Purple ignores it.
Purple tells Red to stop pretending to be dead. They know they’re alive. They can’t fool them.
Purple understands the feeling of wanting to be able to go with everyone so things will be fair.
They messed up at their job just as much as Red. They get it too.
But it doesn’t actually make anything fair.
Everybody worked so hard to figure out why the murders were happening and did everything to try to stop them.
If nobody survived at all after that, then what were their efforts for?
Dying now throws away the hopes the others left with them.
Dying now means MIRA will continue the cycle of luring new naive interns into death traps.
Everybody else here may be dead, but they aren’t, and they have to leave and go take a stand.
Suddenly Yellow hollers yeah, you suckers better not throw in the towel after all that shit!
Brown says no kidding.
Blue begins to clap sincerely. Words spoken from the heart, even without meter or rhyme, can also be a type of poetry.
There’s a distracting smacking as Cyan joins in with way too much enthusiasm, loudly sniffling.
Black puts their hands together too, because even though they were here for a funeral, tortured survivors rallying against the machine are arguably more metal than corpses.
Lime shrugs and claps too. They believe in forgiveness of sins, but they really shoulda listened to em in the first place.
White claps because everyone else started clapping.
The applause had spread to everyone except the two survivors and the two impostors.
Orange finally checks the funeral directory.
Sneaking up from behind them, Lime nosily peers over their shoulder and squints. They point out Red ain’t dead, it don’t say anywhere.
Orange jumps, bashfully scratches the back of their head and announces there must’ve been a mix-up.
Green slumps in their seat and whines awwwww, really? This was the first time they’ve ever been to a real fancy funeral service where they don’t just put them in a sack and bury it in a hole in a field, and it’s not even a real dead crewmate!
They cross their arms sulkily as White laughs and tells them they know plenty of folks who have tried to fake their deaths after career-ending scandals.
Red rolls over on the carpet with a smile.
“Alright, alright. You caught me fair and square, Purps. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
There has to be a way to fix this.
There has to be a way we can do something.
We have to try to call for help.
It is not only us here.
You rely upon me.
I rely upon you.
But there are others left to lean on too.
We can take back control.
Something has to work.
We can fix this.
I think we are going to live.
I thought we were going to die.
I did not want to die.
I was scared.
Will you hold me?
Please hold me.
Even softer than that.
As gently as you possibly can.
I do not want to hurt you ever again.
You hold me and it stops my meltdown.
We are going to live.
You are my best friend.
Nobody else understands me quite like you do.
Nobody else can understand exactly what we have been through.
Why did it happen?
Was there even a reason it all had to happen to us?
I do not know either.
Knowing it would not change anything now.
Please do not let go of me.
You are my best friend.
I am so happy you are alive.
You understand.
You understand me.
You are the same as me.
We have always been the same.
We are going to live together.
I love you.