Chapter Text
White was strolling leisurely through the Skeld, listlessly gazing at the uniform metal corridors. They had already come to regret several times over ever winning this trip in the first place. White was used to getting everything they could out of life, so after trying out most of the hobbies and pastimes the world had to offer, they planned to include the entire unique experience in their future autobiography and publish it as a book. They were sure it would become a bestseller either way, but adding another exciting paragraph about a space vacation to the story of their fascinating life certainly wouldn't hurt. The only problem was that they were currently having the most boring vacation in the universe, and everything suggested that their expectations were going to be disappointed from the very beginning.
The fact that they had accidentally! crashed the ship into an asteroid wasn't a problem at all. As had always happened before, someone else could take care of the minor mess they had caused. White was certain that, as was usually the case, their presence at the scene wouldn't even be necessary, so they left navigation and headed in the opposite direction from the corridor everyone else had rushed into – the one they had originally been brought here from.
Back in the cafeteria, they decided not to wait until dinner and instead take a look at the local selection of alcohol right away. White had brought an entire collection of exclusive wines in one of their suitcases, but they had no idea where their belongings were, and the only place they hadn't been shown yet was filled with shouting and other suspicious noises. So, rather than waste time, they decided to look for something themselves in the now-empty kitchen.
They had almost reached the corridor leading to medbay – they were pretty sure they had seen beds in there – with a bottle of one of the cheaper wines in hand (there simply weren't any expensive ones here), when the crew suddenly flooded into the cafeteria, loudly taking over one another about the upcoming party.
A party? In the very first hour of the trip? Maybe these guys weren't as boring as White had initially thought. They sat down at one of the tables and began twisting the cork out of the stolen bottle of wine with an equally stolen corkscrew from the kitchen.
While Red handed out assignments to everyone else, Yellow and Brown headed to the kitchen, already knowing what their jobs were, and discussed what new ingredients might work well in the dishes this time. More precisely, Yellow did most of the talking, until a suspiciously familiar-looking bottle in White's hands caught their attention.
“Hey, where did you get that?”
If Yellow hadn't come closer, White probably wouldn't have realized they were being addressed at all. They were far too busy wrestling with the stubborn cork. Strange. After all these years of experience, they could usually open a bottle on the first try. Could it be that cheap products really were all defective?
“Uh? Oh, I found it in the kitchen.” They casually waved a hand in that direction.
“You can't just take wine from the supplies like that! It's for special occasions only!” Yellow pointed at them accusingly, while Brown stood beside them with the same disgruntled expression, arms crossed over their chest.
White finally looked up from the bottle, genuinely puzzled about what the problem was. Nobody had complained when they'd previously taken more expensive things without permission – they had simply brought over a credit card terminal right away. Maybe they were just expecting White to pay for it? Well, that was easy enough to solve, although they had assumed that everything would be free for the contest winner.
“Consider this a special occasion.” They winked. “So, how much do I owe you? I have some beans in cash, but it’d be better if you just put it on my tab.”
“Do you think everything here can be bought?”
“Yes!” White cheerfully replied. This ship looked rather run-down, so it definitely couldn't have cost them a fortune.
“Speaking of tabs,” Orange suddenly exclaimed, appearing behind Yellow and Brown and making all three of them jump in surprise. “White, you owe MIRA compensation for the damage to the ship's hull. According to the rules, piloting a MIRA aircraft without authorization from management, if it results in any damage to company property, is punishable by a fine, and failure to pay may result in legal action.”
“Oh, sure. Just put that on my tab too,” White waved a hand again, then paused to think. “Or put it on my parents’ tab.”
As soon as Yellow processed what they had just heard, they planted their hands on their hips in outrage.
“So it was because of you that we almost got blown into space? Do you, the rich, consider yours-”
“As a representative of MIRA, I'm pleased that we've reached an agreement without any legal intervention,” Orange happily concluded, pushing Yellow aside and holding out a tablet with some documents to it, along with a pen. “Here, sign this!”
White signed things all the time, so they didn't bother reading the text too closely. Brown muttered something succinct about corruption before leaving for the kitchen with a grumbling Yellow.
White was so accustomed to situations like this that they didn't pay much attention to it. They genuinely believed that anything in this world could be solved and bought with enough money, and couldn't understand how anyone could possibly think otherwise.
They signed a few more papers, and Orange went over to Green, who was busy taping inflatable balloons to glass. White spent a little while longer giving Orange’s weird, mismatched shoes a skeptical look, then finally opened the wine. For some reason, they had been hoping for something spectacular, expecting to taste the familiar variety of flavours and nuances, but it was just juice. Not the fresh-pressed juice from natural fruitgetables* grown in environmentally friendly greenhouses that they drank every morning, but ordinary store-bought juice. With alcohol in it. If someone had served them wine like this at tasting, they would have turned around and walked out immediately. It was too late to leave now, though. Besides, they could surely endure it just this once and stay until the end.
And so White remained at the table, lazily sipping the wine, which, despite everything, wasn't actually that bad, while everyone else busied themselves with preparations. “How wonderful that the invited guest doesn't have to do anything at all,” they mused, watching everyone get ready for, honestly, one of the most boring parties of their life. Surprisingly, the food at a place of this caliber turned out to be quite decent. While still started comparing it out loud to what was usually served at home, though, and began telling the first crew member they happened to come across – Green was their unwilling listener for most of the evening – about their recent excursions to five-star restaurants, completely oblivious to the contemptuous looks from the cooks.
After a while, everyone gradually began to leave. Not everyone managed to get away, though.
As Red was leaving the cafeteria, they suddenly turned around as if remembering something and called out to the intern who was about to head out.
“Green, your second official task: clean all this up.”
“Aye, aye, Captain!” Green gave Red a dutiful salute, just as the captain walked away at a leisurely pace toward navigation.
Out of pure curiosity, White stepped into a corridor they hadn't explored yet. They noticed that one door, which Black and Cyan had just disappeared through, led into the storage. The second had a sign reading “Administration”, and the third was marked “ Crew quarters”. Well, that's where their room had to be. Or, more precisely, their cabin, as they apparently called rooms like these on spaceships.
White quickly found theirs after going down a staircase to the lower level. Huh. They had levels here. The sight of their name, written in crooked handwriting on a note hastily stuck to one of many identical doors, already made them suspicious. But that was nothing compared to the disappointment they felt when they stepped inside and found, instead of a luxury suite, a tiny cramped room containing nothing but a single bed, a desk welded into the wall, and what was probably the cheapest little chair available at a furniture store. And a whole lot of their luggage.
Through heroic effort, White managed not to drop the bottle and glass in their hands from sheer shock. It was impossible to stay in this closet – no, this prison – let alone live there! This had to be some kind of misunderstanding. There was no way they’d actually been assigned this room. They would complain to management, and they’d immediately move them to a proper one. At least, on those rare occasions when they’d experienced inconveniences like this – which, in principle, were the worst things that had ever happened to them – this approach had always worked.
But another disappointment awaited them. After heading to navigation and terrifying Red with a barrage of outraged complaints from the doorway, to the point that the captain panicked and dropped their joystick, White learned that there had been no mistakes.
They practically stumbled into medbay with such a miserable expression that the doctor couldn't help but worry.
“Hello, White. Is there something wrong?”
“ Yes! They're making me live in a prison!” They dramatically pressed a hand to their forehead, collapsed onto one of the beds, poured themselves a full glass of wine they’d been carrying around, and downed it in one gulp. “ How can all of you voluntarily stay in these-so-called cabins for so long without going insane?”
Once Blue realized that the patient’s health was in no danger apart from alcohol intoxication, they visibly relaxed.
“If I understand correctly, you weren't satisfied with the size of the cabin you just inspected?”
“How could anyone possibly be satisfied with that? I don't even want to call it a storage closet, because the storage closet at my house is probably… about the size of this entire room.” White vaguely gestured around the medbay, wistfully remembering their luxurious multi-story mansion.
“I completely understand your feelings, and I appreciate your love of comfort. Indeed, realizing that you'll have to spend an extended period of time in surroundings so unfamiliar to you can be rather stressful. But trust me, difficulties only make us stronger. And once you've overcome them, you'll hardly notice how easily you'll manage to do it again later.”
White wasn't really listening to the doctor's words, but somehow they had a calming effect. They could have sworn there was even a saxophone playing somewhere in the background. It was rare for them to meet someone so attractive outside their usual social circle.
Then Blue assured them if they ever had an attack of claustrophobia, they could come to medbay at any time. After that, Blue spent another hour listening to White’s stories about their visits to expensive private clinics, but eventually still gently ushered them out of the door under the excuse that they needed to get back to work.
Ugh, after everything that had happened since arriving here, White had already developed a trigger for the word “work”. Because of it, nobody paid them enough attention, and they didn't even have anyone to talk to! Well, technically, they had someone to listen to them while they talked. Green was often hanging around them, after all. Apparently, that poor worm farmer had never seen another kind of life, and White's stories were their only source of information. Well, White would gladly tell such an attentive listener about all the interesting moments of their life – and those made up most of it – but whenever the two of them happened to be alone, someone would inevitably show up and come up with yet another task for Green. And now, for exactly the same reason, they had parted ways near the reactor. Green had run off to do their work as a janitor, courier, or loader – or all of three at once – while White walked past electrical, making a mental note that being bored was still better than carrying out someone else's stupid errands.
In storage, they came across Cyan's back as they were intently rummaging through something.
“What are you doing?”
Cyan flinched and turned around.
“Phew, it's you, White,” they said with a relieved exhale, clutching their chest. “I'm organizing my emergency GADEH case.”
White's visor was already starting to twitch at the prospect of another word beginning with “w”, but Cyan's answer was so bewildering that they couldn't help asking:
“What case?”
“An emergency gemological aid, diagnosis, and energy harmonization. But I just labeled it “Gem Kit.””
And they stepped aside, revealing something that looked nothing like first-aid kit one would expect after hearing the words “emergency” and “aid”. Instead, there was a four-tiered fold-out case filled with crystals, burning candles, and various other… incomprehensible things.
White blinked a couple of times at the case before remembering that, actually, they knew something about this.
“Are those gemstones? Oh, I love gemstones, I have so much jewelry made with them”.
“Really?” Cyan couldn't believe what they were hearing. Had someone finally appeared who was on the same wavelength as them? They couldn't hold back their questions. “How many? And which ones are your favorites? And do you choose them based on their properties, or by which one seems to reach straight into the depths of your soul the moment you see it?”
“Um, I have no idea what you're talking about, but here.”
White held out their hand, showing them a ring with a large, sparkling sky-blue stone.
“It's Steffany.”*
“Oh, how cute. You give them names too! I do that as well. This is Patty.” They pointed to the pendant around their neck. “From “apatite.””
Before White could say a word, Cyan asked another question.
“Is that an aquamarine or a blue topaz? They actually look very similar, so it's easy to mix them up.”
White shrugged.
“I have no idea, but I bought it to go with this.”
And indeed, Cyan took a closer look and noticed that White's shirt was almost exactly the same shade as the stone.
“Wow, they go so well together!”
“Oh my god, finally someone actually noticed.”
White's outfits were always showered with compliments, but here, nobody seemed to care at all. It was a shame that no one was interested in what brand they were wearing, but not a single person had even bothered to say, “Hey, White, you look great.”
“Can I examine the stone more closely?”
“Sure, no problem.”
When White slipped the ring off their finger and handed it to Cyan, they turned it around under the cold storage lights for a moment before handing it back and delivering their verdict in the confident tone of an expert:
“Your Steffany is an aquamarine. Confirmed by a gemologist.”
White put the ring back on, admired it for a moment, and decided not to miss the opportunity to show off. Especially in front of someone who actually appreciated it.
“I have a whole suitcase full of these with me. I can show you, if you like.”
“Oh, absolutely, I'd love to,” Cyan said, nodding enthusiastically, only to suddenly freeze in shock. “You're definitely a Leo. But since that's a fire sign, water stones like this one aren't suitable for you.” They pointed at the ring with concern. “They “dampen” the activity of Leos, drain their strength and energy, and make them sluggish and sick. You need something else. Here!”
Cyan abruptly cut off their impassioned speech, and a second later a pendant with a bright orange crystal was dangling in front of White's face.
Cyan had already accumulated quite a collection of handmade gemstone jewelry specifically for situations like this.
“This is red jasper, a powerful protective stone. It can protect its owner from danger, cleanse the aura, remove negative energy, relieve stress, promote intuition, clarity of thought, and spiritual wisdom, and it also helps with concentration during meditation.”
White had always tuned out all those long product descriptions, so they simply took the pendant from Cyan's hands. Of course, it wasn't gold, just some yellow-colored metal, but at least the stone itself had a very rich color.
“Oh, okay, it's pretty cute. I think I have a shirt that would go with it.” they mused, mentally going through their wardrobe. “Put it on my tab.”
“Oh, no, no, no. It's a gift. A friendly one.”
White believed it was useful to be friends with everyone, even the working class, because you never knew when a connection might come in handy. This time was no exception.
“Then thank you. Friend.”
Cyan was already to either glow with happiness or cry, but then they suddenly stopped and looked White up and down with a weird, narrowed gaze.
“Your Manipura and Vishuddha are very active – arguably even excessively so. That creates a severe imbalance of energies in your body.”
“Um, sure, whatever you say.”
“You need to balance your chakras. The stone I gave you alone won't be enough. I can pick out a few more for you. Oh, or yoga would really help!”
“Hmm, yoga…?” White frowned thoughtfully. “That's a familiar word. I think I was invited to a few sessions during my trip around the world.”
No, it couldn't be. There had already been far too many surprises today. White might not have accidentally turned out to be another geologist on the ship – and they didn't actually know much about gemstones – but they liked them, and at least they listened to what Cyan was talking about. The possibility of finding a second shared interest seemed almost unreal.
“Really?” Cyan asked incredulously, but quickly pulled themselves together. “Then…” Maybe it was worth trying their luck again. “Would you mind meditating with me today?”
White agreed without much thought.
“Why not? There's nothing else to do around here anyway.”
And then they became completely confused when Cyan suddenly burst into tears.