Chapter Text
Drifting in this star filled universe is never something Grace thought he would take for granted, but now that he knows each one of them are slowly dimming—dying he finds himself frayed in the control room of the Hail Mary trying to save life that was never questioned before. Stars, they burn almost endlessly. Humans and their short life spans never get to see the birth and the death of such beautiful life at once. This makes them quite hard to study or even understand, at least from a distance.
When the sky started to dim, and the winds felt a harsher cold than before, the people on Earth feared that the end was finally near. Grace sighs as he leans back, his head hitting the floor. Sitting anywhere but a chair, seeing that it will loudly announce him as the pilot. He’s no pilot, he thinks. I’m not even an astronaut and yet here I am. Somehow, I’ve been determined as not only the pilot of the Hail Mary, but of the world. If I cannot find a solution to this dilemma then the entire universe comes to a halt and life as we know it is over.
Placing down his notebooks, scribbled in red pen, Grace finds himself questioning what caused his crewmates deaths in the first place. Maybe we aren’t as technologically advances as we once thought. What a scary thought. He was utterly alone on this mission, has not encountered a single clue as to where to continue his research on astrophage, and is awfully tired. Maybe it’s time to sleep, Grace thought. No use in getting work done while exhausted, his math will be all sorts of wrong.
Still laying on the floor, Grace extends his neck back, looking beyond the top of his head and peering into the hallway outside the control room. Another sigh racks his lungs before he pushes himself up. He gathers his notebooks, and doesn’t look away from them as he reads them—muttering some numbers out loud—on his way back to the dormitories. He passes his fallen crewmates beds, tucked neatly and their personal items long lost to the emptiness of space by now. A funeral for them seemed fitting, but there is a lack of six feet of dirt and the ecosystem to do it in a way most people would consider morally right. Running his hands along their beds and he passes, he throws his notebooks onto his own bed and falls into it.
If he wants to understand any of this better, he needs a better grasp of astrophages environment. Does he not? It might be possible it has a natural killer, like a predator. Something that will continue to keep it’s population in check, so it doesn’t go above the capacity. Grace opens a textbook that contains various land and ocean species along with their associated food webs, behaviors, and recently discovered adaptations. Maybe we already have a suitable fit on Earth, Grace thought. Then again, who are we to question a new life form taking charge of the universe. Is that not what we humans did, and still do? We took out thousands of species of animals on our planet, and have done irreversible damage to hundreds of ecosystems. If it’s due time for another species to do the same as we did, who are we to stop it?
“Huh.” Grace huffs out loud to nobody but himself. “That would be a great debate proposition for my class. Where do we draw the line in our scientific discoveries, and should we stop advancements made by other life forms—for our own sake?” He circled a couple of species that might have a chance to fight astrophage, or at least give him an idea of what he better look for in the future before putting the textbook away and pulling the blanket over him. The light automatically turns off, and the ship goes dark. Despite the ship moving very quickly towards it’s destination, it’s silent.
The hustle and bustle of the station was all that could be heard, even from rooms away. It was announced on the speakers that one of the convicts on a mission had discovered a ship floating atop the blood ocean, banged up and unable to fly. It was reported to be slowly sinking into the blood, the parts of the ship being burned and corroded away at an increasing rate. This ship must have come from another colony far away, seeing that they hardly understand the density and acidity of the blood ocean. It was doomed to corrode from the start, unfit to survive the harsh waves and pull of tide.
“Commander!”, a boy shouts from afar. “It seems that the ship is estimated to have two hours left before fully dissolved, shall we do a recon mission and attempt to salvage it?”. Said commander nods his head underneath his scarf that is pulled up to his nose.
“Yes. Even if it is not one of ours, it may contain valuable information, resources, or even people. We’re not going to abandon them like how their colony has.” The commander goes to his desk that overlooks the station. From here he can see the convict currently in her submarine. Since the last “expedition” that the commander has gone on the colony has made it their new mission to create more reliable resources for blood ocean explorations. It seems the budget was minuscule from the start, but a collaboration with nearby colonies has given them the resources for three new submarines that are in ten times better condition than the one he was sent to the depths with. Three submarines, if they’re smart about it, these three will last for a few more years on multiple trips.
The station has started preparations for a recon mission, each person is moving with purpose to their stations. The convict in the sub seems anxious that she is to return down once more, yet she is reassured by the surrounding team that recon should be short and unproblematic. Eden’s team has since better understood the paths that the blood ocean monsters like to take, after all they’re simply animals—as eldritch as they seem. Taking a hand and feeling his face underneath his scarf, the commander feels the protruding teeth from his cheeks. Circling each sharp tooth he ponders, is he not as monster as they are, the ones in the ocean.
“Ready for descent!”, the lead of the team for the sub calls from afar.
“Preparing coordinates.”, says the navigation team. “Coords sent, descent confirmed in 3…2…1.” The sub slowly sinks down into the blood, and the liquid gurgles in it’s absence. Well, now all there is to do is wait I suppose.
“Call for me when our convict and new ship has arrived. Be quick, I wish to know if we are to expect another person to feed.” Says the commander.
“Yes sir.” Says the lead of the sub crew. The commander then turns into a hall and disappears.
It is not for another day until news comes from the submarine, but they are said to be en route with the ship successfully attached to the sub. The commander quickly rises from his sleeping quarters and get’s dressed single handedly. He rushes down to where the station meets the ocean, down at the dock and takes his place at his desk. Many men and women come running to him with sent analysis’ from the sub and descriptions of the ship from the convict in the sub, He reviews each and every one of the reports, but finds no confirmation of a person inside the ship. How likely would it be that a colony would send a hunk of metal into the ocean with nobody inside? Maybe they were just trying to see if the elements would survive. A small experiment from a few moons away.
“No way, I don’t believe it for a second.”, the commander whispers beneath his breathe and under his scarf. In this day and age there’s not a single colony that’s not giving every chance they’re all. If they used valuable resources and there was the smallest chance it would work, they would have sent someone down there with them. Just on the off chance it did work. Sounds awfully familiar to another story. The commander grunts and pushes the reports aside, only a matter of time until they get to discover the meaning of all this.
The submarine resurfaces slowly, the blood attempting to push down the thickened metal consistently. Above also appears a very large ship, with small holes burned into some parts. Blood is likely breaching the vessel at fast rates. “I’ll join.”, says the commander, slowly putting on his protective gear. Specially created gear that slows down the decay from the blood. It has a max of ten minutes before the blood will reach your clothes, which only last two seconds before it reaches your skin. Skin will be fully burned off to the bone in about a minute then. An unpleasant way to go, and he is sure that the person in there is only protected with simple clothes.
“Yes sir, amazing idea. If there is a person present and they are already affected by the blood then your expertise will surely help us in identifying how far along they are in turning into a—“. The man cuts himself off and stumbles over his breath. He looks up to see the commander fully adorned in his protective gear, and staring daggers over his scarf. A deep dark look, a warning. The commander slowly walks towards the boy, and pulls the scarf down ever so slightly, so that his words don’t muffle.
“Another word, and you will take submarine A23 down next. The navigation team has found another cave in needs of studying. It seems that the monster has created a home there. Finding it’s nest sounds rather. . .exciting does it not? Almost as exciting as seeing the progression of this poor persons transformation.”
“No sir, it’s—not exciting in the slight. They must be suffering in there, I truly feel for them—sir. Let us find them swiftly.” The boys breath continues to shake as the red in the commanders eyes unnaturally glows in his expression.
“Let’s.” The commander pushes past the other crew members who have started pulling the ship out from the ocean and onto the dock. An entrance has been opened by the crew, and the commander is the first to step through it’s threshold.
Despite the leaking blood and the small pools of it on the floor of the ship, the inside seems mostly intact. It can be said that the exterior of the vessel must have gotten the most damage. Inside the ship seems even bigger, with multiple hallways leading every which way into dozens of rooms. The commander wanders into room after room, slowly making his way past the glop that is the blood on the ground. It doesn’t seem to have fully entered the vessel, so it’s possible that the person in here may be untouched by it’s impurities. Looking for said person, the commander finds himself walking into a room that resembles a lab. Yet this lab is much more advanced than the ones they have on Eden. What colony might have enough materials to create something like this? Looking closer the equipment all seem sterilized and ready to be used except for a small few tubes that are sitting out on the counter, seemingly in the middle of use. The lab is littered with opened annotated books. Flipping through the books the commander sees pictures of animals that he’s only ever seen in his history books as a child. Yet, these ones talk of them as if they’re still living. Many books proved to be thesis’ of scholars, studies that explore relationships and disproves each others hypothesis’.
Putting the lab in the back of his mind, he ventures into another room—but this one is bright and displays a color that the commander hasn’t seen other than in blinking LED lights. Bright thriving plants obscure his view. Dozens of them, growing in dirt. No, soil. The room smells earthy as water is trickling out of pipes and onto the plants.
Where.
Where did they get these from. It’s impossible. The commander pulls his own bracelet out from under his protective gear to compare, his is much smaller, thinner, and frailer compared to the magnificent saplings in front of him. If a colony was truly this advanced, Eden would know. There’s no way one of the cults from nearby moons were able to cultivate something like this. No, there must be some people they’ve failed to take into consideration. An undercover society, secretly living in bliss as the people in Eden starve each day. As the people in Eden desperately try to pull together enough resources for the just the start of research to be possible.
“Traitors, they are.” The commander bluntly states.
“Body discovered! Calling for medic team to run tests immediately.” One of the men shout as they sprint outside of the ship, repeating their protocol, “Body discovered! Calling for m..ic..te.m.o.run.te.ts. . .” The voice fades out as the commander turns down the hallway the man ushers from. He wants a look at the face of such a traitor, he must see who operates this ship.
Turning into the room, the person is surrounded by three others who are surveying the body. The commander shoos them away as he kneels down. The blood never reached this part of the ship. The man is untouched by the blood from the ocean. Yet, he has his own blood creeping from below his hair and some staining his shirt. Likely got slammed around a bit when he hit the ocean. His hair, it was a dirty blonde and was styled short-frantic like. Glasses were hanging off of his face, cracked and has trickles of blood obscuring any view the man would have if he were awake. He was knocked cold.
The commander got up from his kneeling position, grabbing the traitors glasses and handing them to someone nearby. “See to it that these get repaired to the best of our ability. He’s no help if he’s unable to see us.”
A nod comes from the man entrusted with the glasses before he walks off. The commander turns his head down to the man on the floor once more. Despite his excess resources and origins, he can’t help but feel bad for the man. He was sent to die after all.
“Lock him in a cell until he wakes. He might be violent, and for the other rooms leave them to me to be documented. They hold sensitive objects and information and I will share my findings when I’m ready.” The commander exits the room, holding his gaze towards the man on the floor until he’s fully passed the doorway.