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Was this his punishment?
A captain of a tight ship, especially one such as theirs, rarely misses anything. They were merely five people strong, after all, carrying about two hundred thousand metric tons of goods through the emptiness of the void. Four people to keep track of. Four people to get to know, dine with, and see every single day of the journey. Unfortunately for him, and everybody else, he had been too blind to see what had been going on. He had at first suspected, of course, that something had happened a few weeks or so before the crash. The sullenness. The skittishness. The avoidance. The turtleneck. The eyes… Her eyes…
All of it, puzzle pieces just begging to be put together. All of it, leading to a single conclusion, but he had been a fool. He would observe, then file it to the back of his mind, where errant thoughts were sent to die. He had been focused on other issues… selfish issues. His life, what he wanted to do next, what would come after this trip, and what other career would he find now that the company had fallen through. And his crew… what would have happened to his crew? She had broken down then, in that table with the birthday cake, wondering what she would do next without savings nor a promising prospect to continue working as a nurse.
There, another puzzle piece that he had been too stupid to see.
Maybe it would have taken months, years, a generation maybe, or an eternity for him to realize what had been going on. That was, until she had all but told him that day on the bridge. The day before the crash… Then, right in that moment, it was like the final piece was found, and it all just clicked together inside his mind. The full image laid bare… And what did he do next?
Nothing.
He had felt so shocked. So numbed by the revelation. Like the hints of a train peering at the edge of your vision for the longest time and then at last slamming into you when you could no longer ignore it. He had been frozen, because right at that moment, he did not know what to do. He should have taken measures to get the pistol back. He didn’t. He could have given her the passcode to open the case and thus get the means to protect herself. He didn’t either. What did he do with the information given? Take a guess…
His friend. His partner. His co-pilot. Jimmy… Why? He had thought then, that this could be fixed. The man had come out unscathed from a lot of trouble before after all. If he could do that, then this was just another episode right? Maybe a deal could be cut out with her so that he wouldn’t be sent to prison? Maybe he could somehow get serious with her and be a father? Maybe he could…!
It was all his stupid attempts at coping with the fact that Jimmy was not the man whom he thought he was. That he had done something unforgivable to that poor, sweet girl. But still, he wanted to help him. Done something to ease his troubled and pessimistic mind! There was a future for him, still!
But he didn’t really know Jim. He didn’t know what the man was capable of. That was yet another sin of his. Any other captain would have done their duty and confined him to his quarters to await judgment from the authorities, but fortunately for the man, he had been the captain’s friend. His friend…
His friend, who immediately blamed him for the crash. His friend, who force-fed him the pills when he wanted to die. His friend, who bore such hatred for him. Such violence… And even still, he had welcomed the status as a sacrificial lamb. After all, there was no way he was going to make it out of here alive. His hands and feet were gone, his skin burned away, and his throat scorched. Jim still had a life ahead of him, while he had been riding it high on his career for so long. But the others… Anya…
Her lifeless gaze peered into nothing as her body rested on the floor beside his gurney, barely illuminated by the eternal dusk of the false window. Blood and bile stained her face and clothes, the aftermath of a long and painful suicide that he had no choice but to bear witness to. He had begged, of course, in the only way he could. He screamed. He jostled in his own blood-stained cot while ignoring the pain as much as he could, all the while she stood before him as the bottles of pills were popped open. He had wanted to tell her that he could help her. That this didn’t need to happen. That he could fix all of this! All that came out of his mouth were painful gurgles and guttural grunts, his stumps meeting cold air.
He failed, of course, just as he had failed her so many months ago. He no longer had any agency in what happened on this ship, and thus he was forced to be the sole audience of its demise.
Daisuke was next, injured in the vents while attempting to break into the medical bay. The kid had been taken to the lounge by Jimmy, and then there had been an argument some time later between him and Swansea over how to treat the youngster, and the apparent fact that one cryopod was still working. The argument heated up, and before he knew it, he watched as the older man swung his axe and finished off his own intern.
Then came Swansea, when Jimmy, red-faced, stormed into the bay and found the gun case in his very own gurney. His co-pilot had only spared him a glance, before meeting a charging Swansea. There were shots, and the mechanic fled, but he knew it was only a matter of time. In a single day, his ship had fallen, and he could do nothing about it. All of it, because, wilful or not, he could not see the dead pixel that haunted the ship.
It was only a small mercy that Daisuke’s body was just out of frame, laid down on the bedroll by the lounge’s exit. However, Anya laid there, front and center, impossible to ignore. Her skin had turned a sickly pale, contrasting starkly with her dark hair, while her ever-sad eyes had glazed over. One of her hands rested on her belly, where at times he swore he could see the bump at its humble beginnings, and he silently wept. Anya, his responsibility, his duty, his friend… All of this, the crash, the deaths, her tragedy, because he had failed her. He should have known. He should have figured it all out before all of this had had a chance to happen. He should have never let Jimmy out of his sight when he began to talk of possible tragedies. He should have done something…
Now, he will never get the chance.
When Jimmy once more entered the medical bay, shrouded in darkness and soaked in blood, promising that he will make everything right again, Curly resigned himself to his fate. This was the monster he had unwittingly harbored and protected. This was the grave he had dug for himself, and now, he was okay laying in it. After all, captains went down with their ship, and he was long overdue for his burial-at-space.