The command deck was dim, and beyond the small porthole the stars lazily slid portward in an arc, disappearing near a smudge of dirt on the left of the glass. Most of the six command stations were dark, their consoles and displays turned off for the night. Even the overhead lights were off, making the soft emergency lights feel even brighter.
A young man named Tripper shifted where he sat at one of the two most forward stations. The console there glowed softly, though he paid it no mind, his gaze focused entirely on the stars beyond the thick glass. He leaned back, stretching his back like a cat, and rested his feet on the quiet console, careful to avoid anything important.
“Cin hates when you do that, yeah,” a quiet voice warned from behind, the accent guttural. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and winced. A boy stood there. He was tall, if a fair bit shorter than Tripper. He was so thin he resembled rags wrapped over a frame of empty clothes hangers. Dirty rags, and a dirty face to go with it. The boy ran a hand through his dirty red curls and grinned at him, green eyes sparkling.
“Fuck off, Fen,” the man said in greeting.
“Tripper, honey, how you gonna speak to your big sister like that?”
Tripper laughed, keeping his eyes on the stars. He was tall and thin as well. He was wearing blue pajama pants, but had not bothered to put on a shirt when he climbed from his bunk, unable to sleep. Again. Nightmares. Again. The glow of lights from his console reflected on his pale flesh, the skin tight over lean, strong muscle.
“Yeah,” Fen said with a dreamy tone to his voice. “Never thought to be here, eh? Watching the stars drift past.”
“I’ll never get sick of watching them. We could never see the stars,” Tripper mused. “Not from the sludge and muck at the bottom. Drek, we was too busy looking out to ever look up anyway, yeah?” The slang of his youth always returned strong when Fen paid him a visit, his own accent taking on a sharp edge. He was almost sure that he did not do it on purpose.
“Oh drek,” Fen laughed. “That too deep for me, honey.” He laughed again, a whimsical snicker. “Get it, babe? Deep? Like deep down in the Sewer?”
“Fuck off, Fen,” Tripper repeated. It was a familiar mantra, and the boy knew he didn’t really mean it. It was just something he had always said to him, going back so far to their days together in Trandor City; beneath Trandor City, really.
“That sting’s, honey. Why you gotta be so cruel?”
“What do you want, Fen?” He pulled his feet down, and his console and chair turned quietly to face the boy.
“I don’t want for nothing, honey. Just thought you could use some company, is all.”
Tripper smiled, his pale eyes distant. “Is that all?”
Fen nodded. “You always get so moody in the dead of night, staring out that window.”
“Me? Moody? Ok, princess.”
The boy placed a gentle hand on his own chest, and feigned a look of exaggerated hurt. “For true though, you just seemed like you could use some company up here in the dark, yeah. Something to keep you mind from spiraling around the mouth of that void in your head.”
“Do you remember,” Tripper asked, “that time you caught something from a john, and were forced to stay home for nearly a week? You were so sick.”
Fen giggled. “You stole some meds for me, and we spent the whole time playing that game, that one you always wanted to play and I never had the time. Usually too busy working, hey. What was it called?”
“Telub Rampage. That game was xenophobic as shit, but it sure was fun.”
“I remember how proud you were when you got it,” Fen recalled. “You were up a few levels, near twenty, causing shit. Phishing for weak security.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Pulled it right off of some rich kids Tap,” Tripper chuckled. “Shit, I remember. Then I trashed his files, too. Mostly porn, anyways,” he laughed.
Fen laughed too. “Worst refuse in the galaxy was coming out of my every hole the entire week, but playing that drek with you and not leaving our squat was one of the best times in my life, hey.”
Tripper smiled wistfully. “Me too, Fen.” He paused. “I wish I remember more drek like that, neh? Maybe I sleep better.”
“I told you before, hon. You gotta face your past if you wanna get past it. And I’d be glad to help. I here when you need me, honey. Always.”
Tripper grimaced. He doubted he would ever get used to even having the memories, so facing them was so far down on his list of priorities, you’d have to look up to see the Sewer.
He turned his station away from his old friend, and turned his gaze again to the stars, unwilling to even talk about talking about the shit in his head. Nah, fuck that. He glowered at the window silently. He heard Fen sigh in annoyance behind him.
“Is that important, honey?” Fen asked, and Trip turned his head to look. Fen was pointing at a blinking red light on his console. Trip glanced at the light, and then back at the boy again. Fen was gone, as if he had never been. He frowned, relieved but also already missing the boy.
He tapped the light. Brought up one of the displays. The Ebony Flower was picking up a message, vocal only. Looked to be coming from pretty far away. He played it over the bridge speakers.
Please help us. Our drives are dead, and we have been adrift for days. Oxygen is ok, but we will run out of food and water soon. Please, we have children. Someone.. Anyone. Please Help.
Tripper silenced the speaker, and toggled the ship-wide comms. It was time to wake up the others. It was time to go to work.
