text: Veronica was alone on the bridge when the first distress signal was detected. The beeping echoed quietly on the bridge, reverberating throughout the sleeping ship as the members curled up in their beds. She needed something to do. Something to smother the remaining hours until the end of the week, her thoughts more than enough to keep her awake, her mind wouldn’t stop on its ceaseless crusade, reminding her of every little mistake. The distress signal was a distraction, exactly what she was looking for. “Merchant 6478-A we read your distress, can you respond, over?” Over and over she could hear Tina’s stupid bloody voice bringing the whole mess to a stand-still. She could see all the faces turn to them, including Giles, and the raised eyebrows turning to awkward looks and nervous faces. She wanted the vacuum of space to suck her into nothing and believed the reversal of her insides to outsides would’ve been less excruciating than eating the rest of her meal amongst the crew. The pity before was condescending enough and she knew if she stayed on board it would be palpable. “Merchant 6478, you’re very faint, can you adjust frequency?” Captain Urak saw it all just like the rest of them, but at least had the courtesy to not stare at her, despite all his faults. He didn’t have time for nonsense, as he called it, only time for his job and his drink. Although she had no doubt they’d be discussing it in her next pay review. It all had to come out at the worst time, a fucking embarrassment to everyone involved and another flag she had been adorned with. All because Tina didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. Veronica keyed into Urak’s terminal. “Captain? Sorry to disturb, we have a dead corporate freighter here, looks like asteroid debris got into the engines and the communications is down as well. Shall we dock with them?” She heard the groan of her Captain, who had slept with a whiskey or two at his side since their trip began. “Lifeforms?” “I’m detecting seven, sir, which matches the record we have for the vessel.” “Dock then, Ven. I’ll be sending you and Giles down to sort the problem.” Ven felt herself blush furiously before she could stop it, feeling like a foolish child as she stammered: “G-Giles, sir?” “Yes, our security officer and an engineer. Is there a problem with that?” “No, but-“ He emerged fully in the camera’s view, letting her see up close how little he cared for her opinion. “I want the air cleared before 06:00 tomorrow between you. Regardless of what’s been said and what’s true, I want things as normal as soon as this job is done. Is that understood?” Veronica made sure he saw how she straightened herself and nodded stiffly to camera. “Yes. Perfectly.” His transmission ended and she easily directed the vessel to dock with the corporate ship, the accuracies would have to come from her Captain and she would only need to make things normal with Giles. The logos and slogans splattered across the dull grey and blue surface of the hull, leaving only the bridge and engines free of it. From a distance, it was difficult to notice the paint worn by travel and splattered with dirt and rust. But Veronica saw it and thought briefly of her father, navigator on such ships, playing the elusive corporate game. She had spent the day before testing the new software on board, stabilised the thrusters and fixed the food dispenser that had been playing up since launch. If she was able to do all that and not screw it up, she thought that it’d be easy to get back to normal with Giles. She could also theoretically turn herself into a sperm whale but she didn’t like her chances there, either. Giles was tall, thickly haired, muscled and some thought thickly brained as well, but Veronica knew him better than most. He was a sucker for tinned peaches from mother earth, if they could get them; watched all the zero-g MMA matches once they grounded and had a fondness for jazz that Veronica hadn’t heard since her dad had died. It felt pathetic, to have that longing inside that never seemed happy to move along, trying to find bits of her father in what was left of her job. But it was how she dealt with it, how she avoided people calling her weak. “You ready?” Veronica already knew, of course, by his holstered plasma handgun and suit. He nodded. “Is the Captain awake?” “Barely. And he’s been at the whiskey again.” “Pretty sure we were told not to drink drive when we were kids.” She shrugged, thinking of a joke but deciding to hold it back. “He’s the boss.” Giles expected the joke as well, giving her a short pause to deliver it and adjusting himself when she didn’t. He took a deep breath and didn’t look at her as he spoke: “Ven, I think you’re a really nice person, but-“ “Save it.” Veronica spat. “Don’t you dare even start with that bullocks.” “Ven-“ “Do you know how hard it is to be on this damned ship as an engineer? How many crusty old farts are condescending to me like I’m some fresh-faced whelp who doesn’t know how to use a spanner or a screwdriver? How I have to fight every day to get an inch of respect out of anyone?!” Veronica didn’t mean to raise her voice, but found it impossible to back down. She couldn’t show weakness. “I don’t need that shit from you. Not you too.” “It’s not my fault!” “No!” She took a moment to compose herself. “No, it’s not. It’s not, never was. It’s never one person’s fault.” She rubbed her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. It’s fucked anyway.” “What is?” “Us. Our talks, everything!” “Why does that have to change?” She didn’t answer - not because she wanted it to, that much was clear, but because it had already happened. He felt like a stranger to her, like she couldn’t trust him. Like he already knew too much. She rubbed her eyes, exhaustion catching up with her. “It’s been a long week.” He nodded. It had been long for them all but it wasn’t hard to imagine the utter embarrassment she had gone through had destroyed whatever self-esteem she had left. Giles was under no illusion that he was the only person she really talked to in such a way and certainly wasn’t thick skulled enough to see that she wanted to stay as far away from him as possible. The warning lights blazed around them, allowing them ten seconds to brace for the joining of the two airlocks. Their arms reached and grasped the handles above as gravity was briefly disabled as the ships came together. The lurch was powerful, but they were used to how it felt and were able to conduct themselves safely - both being subjected to enough training and safety protocols to last a lifetime. But what else was new in the depths of space? Giles spoke again as they headed into the corporate ship’s airlock. “I didn’t know. Okay? I didn’t know that you-“ “It doesn’t matter.” Ven snapped, turning away from him so he couldn’t see her face. “The whole damn crew knows, Tina might as well have posted it all online, let the whole bloody milky way know about it!” “Tina was drunk-“ “Tina was barely tipsy. She did it because she thought it was funny and I’m sure it was fucking hilarious.” Veronica hefted the airlock door closed despite the help Giles offered her. “I didn’t think it was funny.” Veronica was able to smell his bullshit from a mile away. “Let’s just get this over with.” The corporate vessel was one they had both seen time and time again during their patrol missions in the outer solar system. Like with the exterior, it was covered in corporate logos, slogans and even health and safety notices. Above their heads messy looking cables ran along each corridor with piping insulated alongside. Each ship was exactly the same, grey and blue, plastered with shameless advertising with only the faces manning them ever seeming to change. Yet despite this, there was something unnerving to Ven when she heard the distant beeping of a failing utility in the bowels of the ship and the cold whirs that seemed to freeze her bones. The darkness didn’t help, like the ship was derelict in a forgotten sea. “Cap said there were people here?” “I counted seven.” Giles frowned. “Then where are they?” “They could be injured, maybe they’re with their supplies in case of pirates.” “Pirates?” Ven frowned at his scepticism. “Well, what would you call them?” He shrugged, allowing a smirk. “Just sounds like we’re kids playing at school.” She raised an eyebrow. “You think? I mean I don’t think any pirates go for peg legs and parrots nowadays.” “The fashion could turn.” He pointed out, like an old spinster warning of bad weather. “I’m not sure I’d put my money on it.” Ven admitted, trying not to smile, which was easier once she spotted a comms terminal. “Here we go.” The dimmed lighting didn’t help with finding the keyboard and where she needed to place her fingers, but once she brought up the system’s commands, she was able to navigate easily through the old modules. Ven’s paranoia had focused on the thought that one or two men were bleeding out in the bowels of the miserable vessel, so she didn’t spend too much time looking through the essential systems. But even seeing the brief descriptions typed on screen were enough to make her pause. “That’s weird...” She mumbled to herself. “Why did they do that?” “Do what?” “Well the engines aren’t damaged, not seriously enough for a standstill, anyway. They’ve been switched off through the ship’s software.” “Why would they do that?” Veronica glanced over at him, knowing he’d find her suggestions ridiculous before she even said them. “Sometimes when a ship has a software upgrade, the engines are remotely turned off for safety reasons and then tested once the upgrade is complete. I did that earlier today, actually.” “Okay... So, they broke their own engines because they’re lazy?” “I don’t think so. ‘Cos this isn’t the most recently updated version, in fact the last update was from three months ago. Going without updates even for that short amount of time can mean that the engines have been switched off due to a glitch in the system - it's rare, but it happens. But option three...” “Yeah?” “It could be pirates.” She expected some mockery, maybe a surprised eyebrow at her paranoia, but he seemed just as convinced. “Why would they do that?” He asked, lowering his voice. “Turn off the engines, send out a distress signal and a bigger score usually turns up afterwards.” She replied, matching his tone. “Should we head back?” “You can. I need to make sure they don’t have hostages.” “No! No, don’t be stupid.” She hissed. “We get reinforcements, by the book.” “People could die while we wait-“ “You could die! We need you on board.” He removed his pistol from its holster and looked at her coldly. “Don’t be emotionally compromised over this. It makes sense, this is my job, just like yours is sorting out that terminal and getting back to the ship.” She grabbed his arm. “Your job is to be smart about this. If there are pirates and if they have hostages, then they’ll wait for someone-“ The high-pitched squeal of plasma fire tore through their conversation and she could smell the burning flesh before he felt it. The heat quickly destroyed any nerves but the shock of smouldering smoke whisping from his shoulder was enough to send him immediately in a panic. He screamed so loud and hard she was sure the ship would shatter around them, tears and blood and sweat poured from him and all the time only one phrase thudded through her head. Her heartbeat in time with the terrifying thought: he’s going to die. He was beyond the point of conscious pain or sanity as she wrenched the gun from his hand. She didn’t have time to think, reaching and firing where their attacker had shot, dodging back into cover and waiting until he needed to change his plasma pack. Their blind back and forth continuing with no clear goal, no clear target and Giles was screaming, shaking as he tried to reach for his medicine but unable to grab it without another screech, without another wave crashing down on him. Her shots were random and fragmented, her eyes unable to adjust to the bright lights and darkness that cascaded one after the other. Sparks flew and singed her face and arm; plasma fire tore a hole piece by piece above their heads, melting some metal that poured like white-hot treacle towards them. The stranger was having as much trouble as she was but they kept up the stalemate, Ven kept firing, the squealing of the gunfire and his screams inevitably would bring the rest of them to them. She had to end it, or they would be surrounded. She had to kill him or they’d die too. The insanity around her seemed to slow as her thoughts cascaded through time and space to the moments she had with her father, the panic and shock hitting her hard enough that the memories came unbidden. The wisps of vapor from his mouth, the virtual reality they shared between them, firing fake guns in fake shooting galleries, goading one another into making a riskier maneuverer. The days in the hospital as the cancer spread, continuing until it smothered him in darkness, the last days she felt truly connected to someone, the moment when he told her that he was proud of her. Knowing for sure that he’d never speak again and his funeral during a heatwave, the sweat and the salt and the red earth finally taking him. Her next shot ripped through the neck of the pirate and she watched him tumble to the ground, almost completely unaware of how she did it or how she knew where he’d be. She didn’t see his face, believing it was a blessing not to know. Then she turned, grabbing what Giles couldn’t, stabbing the formula into his shoulder and gritting her teeth as he tried to mute his screams. But in moments, the fog in his eyes seemed to clear and his breaths were slower, purposeful and deep. He focused on her and grabbed the gun from the floor. “I’ll cover you. Go!” “What are you doing?!” “Saving your ass, now move!” “You’re not dying here, Giles!” She gripped the gun and tried to take it from him. “Get to the airlock. I have an idea.” “You can’t take them all on alone, are you insane?!” She ignored his hypocrisy, snatching the gun from his hand. Then she ran down the corridor, finding and accessing the first terminal she came across. She wasn’t sure if the trick would work, but it was the best chance any hostages trapped had. Trackers were fitted in the uniforms of all employees of corporate vessels; tracking their vitals as well and it wasn’t difficult to access the details through some old forgotten code. Most of the newer models had been patched out, but Ven was hoping the back door still existed in the older version. She stared at the map before her, detailing each part of the ship and there were names only in one part of the ship, each name with UNKNOWN vitals. They were all in the disposal part of the ship, the disposal airlock and incinerator. The names disappeared one by one, the list shortening as each member of the crew was put into the furnace. Five became four, then three and finally two remained. The sickness bubbling within her was enough to make her eyes water, but she controlled any other response - she didn’t have time. There was nothing they could do. She heard footsteps ahead in the corridor, hurrying towards her. The bastards were coming and they’d try to take their ship next, then everyone else would be in the incinerator. Giles was on his feet and moving as fast as he could, one arm cradling the other as he stumbled towards the airlock. Ven caught up, almost slamming into him but crashing into the door instead, getting the airlock open with shaking hands as the footsteps raced closer behind her. “What about the hostages?” “Gone.” She admitted, panting heavily. “Dead, all of them, dead!” “What-?” “We have to go!” He moved into the airlock first, crouching on the floor and losing the remaining feeling in his arm. His face paling by the moment as the morphine started to wear off and his eyes glazed over with the terrifying fog. His breaths becoming ragged, panicked and his skin crawled as he started to tremble. Ven heard the pirates before she saw them and the cracks of pistols and rifles deafened her as bad as the plasma blasts as she pulled desperately at the airlock. Giles stared, his arms entirely useless, his mind slipping away as the shock gripped him in a vice. She felt like a deer in headlights, exposed and disorientated as she tried to duck around the random bullets that tried to impede their escape. She screamed involuntarily and pulled and pulled as the heavy metal door finally succumbed and sealed them back. Even the most ambitious of pirates had sense enough to leave an airlock well alone. She was panting, finding all the effort difficult to comprehend, still feeling adrenaline pumping through her. She had saved one life and that felt enough for a lifetime. She turned to him, bringing one arm around him to keep him steady and braced for the impact. As they floated together, looking at the other’s singed face, the dirt that always seemed to appear and the tears and the fear that they had somehow survived, they both saw pin drops of red float between them. The blotchy red substance seemed to come out of nowhere and once one droplet appeared, another joined it, then larger balls of red floated between them. Giles frowned, believing he was losing his mind to the drugs at first but his face paled and the clarity returned as panic replaced it. He looked down as Ven did. “Giles...?” Ven didn’t understand why she didn’t feel the pain at first, as once she was reminded of it, it seemed eternally there. She wanted to scream, but shock had muted her completely, she only stared and felt all the fatigue hit her at once. As the ship’s airlock opened, her head had already dropped and her hand stopped gripping him completely. The shock wasn’t enough to keep her awake and Giles’ voice was like a whisper in an endless ocean. Even when he shouted for help she didn’t understand him and everything faded into darkness. Ven’s senses were slow to return to her. Her head felt heavy, her arms ached and her stomach gnawed painfully in a way she didn’t recognise. Her eyes opened to a blurred room, the bright light of the open window and sterilised white walls only worsening her nausea. The beeping of her vitals grew louder as the faded blurry vision began to clear and adjust to the Martian sunlight. She saw a window with someone silhouetted against the foreground, sitting with a screen in his hands. For a moment, she thought it was her dad, a ghost to take her away. But the thick hair and young face was unmistakable. “Hey.” Giles smiled at her warmly. “Hey...” Ven was confused, trying to remember what happened and feeling the rush build in the back of her mind. She moved her arm suddenly, needing answers. “What-?” He took her arm, softly, as if it was natural for him. She felt goosebumps as he spoke. “It’s okay. We destroyed the ship. Its okay, relax.” “Where... How did I get here?” She kept trying to force herself to remember, but only recalled darkness after she collapsed. Giles smiled a little. “You saved my life, remember?” She felt as if she was acting on half speed, like a car needing to be pushed before the engine would start. “I... I did?” “I didn’t know you could shoot like that, Ven. Y-you saved our lives.” He slumped a little, unable to look at her as she pressed him for answers, which he gave reluctantly. “Mac stablised us on board. I woke up a few hours later but you had lost a lot of blood and you weren’t waking up. I...” He took a breath to steady himself. “We were a week away from Mars and... And Mac said you weren’t going to make it.” “So, you called an emergency shuttle?” He raised his eyes to meet hers, sorrowful and regretful that he had to tell her. She slumped where she lay. “He didn’t want to risk his fucking career.” “He said that everyone would have to take a cut.” Giles told her, not trying to hide the venom in his voice. “That the trip back to Mars would mean that we wouldn’t have the fuel to get back into the black. And that... That people took their risks when they signed their contracts.” She gritted her teeth to avoid spurting obscenities, in some misguided allegiance to him or to keep the hospital sterile, she wasn’t sure. Ven took a deep breath, hoping it would disguise how hurt it felt to be reduced to a number. “How did I get here, then?” “I requested to take the shuttle and drop you off for treatment. He refused, of course, telling me I wasn’t thinking straight and wanted me to be cleared by Mac before heading back out.” He shook his head. “If I waited that long...” “I’d be dead.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I took his shuttle.” Ven’s eyes widened. “The Captain’s shuttle? You stole the Captain’s shuttle?” “Stealing is a bit of an overstatement.” He replied and she laughed as he hoped she would. “He drinks himself to sleep on duty, it was bound to happen one day.” He looked back at her. “He threatened to have me court marshaled.” She scoffed, unsurprised but disappointed. “Drunken prick.” “I called him worse when he tried to force me back.” Ven believed him, but also felt goosebumps as he kept his eyes on her. “I guess he fired you, then.” “I made my resignation pretty clear, I think.” He replied. “But... I got to keep an eye on you, at least. Practice this speech, how’d I do?” She smiled, despite everything that had happened, he still somehow made her smile and that had all seemed to make it worthwhile. “Well, I guess we’re even.” “For now, anyway-” “Do you want to go out for a drink?” Ven surprised herself even as the words were already said. “After I’m out, I mean.” “I’d love to.” Veronica didn’t know if her infatuation was a passing feeling or if a drink with him would be one in a string of mistakes. She didn’t know if she’d ever find work again, whether Captain Urak would be found out for his negligence or if she’d be the one to push against him. She couldn’t know anything about what would happen - but she knew for certain that the emptiness inside her was shrinking and was being filled with butterflies.