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Dead Space: Thirteen

Chapter 1: TUB Dwellers

"Three happy spacemen, three happy spacemen…"

Stefan Wily couldn't help but smile, both at the card and the duel simplicity and brilliance of a child's mind. Only a child would give a scientist a card like this. Only a child would draw her daddy alongside his colleagues. And while he was one of said colleagues instead of the daddy in this, he couldn't help but get a warm and tingly feeling inside that was so often lacking in the depths of space.

Three happy spacemen…the young man reflected, staring at the card Sally Becker had sent the TUB crew. Well, we are now at least Sally.

The pink background of the card was easily recognizable in the gloom of the ship's control room, but it was the details that mattered rather than the generalities. Three individuals were displayed on the card, all dressed in deep-space gear and standing in testament to how Sally had managed to get beyond the stickman phase of art. Or maybe she had her mother do it for her, considering that the card was animated. And choosing the option of play it again daddy! (stars included), Stefan demonstrated to the universe that while Earth was dead, the artistic talent of its dominant species wasn't.

Each of the figures were denoted by time in lipstick-red writing and waving at the viewer as they did so. The first of the three was Dennis-specifically Dennis Fujitsu, currently hunched over one of the control room's many terminals like the scientist he was. The next figure to wave was Stefan himself. And finally, last, but definitely not least as the card's animation made clear, was "Daddy," or as Stefan and Dennis knew him, Gavin Becker. The head scientist of the TUB and looking far more serious in reality than how his daughter imagined him. If he was put off by the fact that one of his crewmates was looking at the card that had been sent to him, he gave no indication. Apparently supernovas were just that fascinating.

"Hey Stefan, I didn't know you were still on the finger painting stage."

And for Gavin, engaging in the ancient art of fencing by verbatim was equally as engrossing.

Stefan closed the card and pinned it to one of the many notice boards of the control room, looking over at Dennis as he turned away from the control room's sole porthole and grinned at the younger scientist. His hair was darker and shorter, his face was older and harder, but apart from that, the differences were academic. Heck, they both had more hair than Gavin and given the uniform black clothing they wore when not wearing uniform gray space gear, it was one of their few distinguishing characteristics.

"You've got no romance in your soul, Dennis," Stefan grinned, hoping that the TUB's head scientist wouldn't mind that the two were discussing a piece of art meant for him. "Sally went to a lot of effort and-…"

"And sent it over fifty light-years to Cygnus," Dennis interrupted. "Impressive a few centuries ago, but pretty much academic now."

Stefan felt like contesting the point. He felt like breaking out into the goofy grin he was known for. But instead, Doctor Becker had other plans. Turning to his crew, he put his foot down.

"Alright gentlemen. We have work to do."

Gavin Fujitsu knew what it was like to be a middle child.

Not that he actually had any biological brothers or sisters. No-his knowledge of being the cheese between the bread came from a TUB where both of those things were often in short supply. Thirty-six years old, he was between Gavin's forty-three and Stefan's twenty-three, and seemed to have elements of both his colleague's personality. Not goofy like Stefan, not Mr. Serious like Gavin, but somewhere in-between. And, as usual, the first one to get today's assignments.

"Gavin again, right?" Stefan had asked a few seconds ago. "What, did the supernova get you all-…"

"Shut up Stefan or I'll put you in a black hole," Gavin murmured, not taking his eyes off today's roster. Wednesday, April 11, 2508, even if a large Sun sticker was on the notice board in an effort to give some colour to the otherwise drab surroundings. Well, there was the card Gavin had got from his daughter, but luckily that had been shut up both in folding and in vocals.

In space, no-one could hear you scream. Yet you could still hear singing…

"Okay," Gavin began, once again adopting his Mr. Serious persona. "We've recorded the data for the supernova, but now we've got to make sure this fine vessel is operational when the next one comes."

"Which won't be in our lifetimes of course," Stefan piped up, though his two fellow astrophysicists ignored him. Out here in the Aegis Starcluster of the constellation of Cygnus, you took what you got.

"Stefan, it's your day off," Gavin began. "Or was, considering you've been neglecting your other duties throughout the week. Which means that you get to backup our database and SPOT reports, file our quarterly reports, broadcast weekly SQ-…"

"I know the drill boss."

"…incinerate sewerage and trash and order rations."

"Sure chief," Stefan grinned. "Any preferences?"

"As long as we get something other than that crap-for-food from Scorpio Six, I'm not too fussed."

Dennis smirked, though if either of his fellow scientists noticed, they gave no indication. Sometimes Gavin could be humorous without trying. Which was just as well, considering if he did try, he'd fail, most of the time. Still, he didn't begrudge him for that. Balding bar some remaining black hair, Gavin looked old, was old but could lose that in an instant when it came to family. How he'd managed to stay married long enough to have a daughter of four years Dennis didn't know, but he certainly admired him for it. So did Stefan, even if he was doing his best to not to show it right now, moaning about all the work he'd have to do. Granted, incineration wasn't too pleasant, but the rest of those tasks were effectively paper pushing...with terminals of course. And since they were out in deep space near the Aegis Cluster, a zone forbidden to all spacecraft for some reason, the sector patrol observation terminal (SPOT) was nothing but a formality. As was his job as well today.

"Dennis, you're our head," Gavin murmured. "I'll leave you to your own devices."

Dennis nodded, trying to think of a snarky comment to make, but failing. Jokes weren't his strongpoint, but astrophysics was. He'd process data on the supernova that had reverberated through Cygnus, continue his job as navigator and alert the crew of anything of note. Which, bar some solar flares that had been recorded from one of the stars of Gliese 777, would probably be nothing at all. Heck, he'd probably be able to get ahead of the schedule for the TUB's payroll and insurance quarterlies.

"And what about you boss?" Stefan asked, watching as Doctor Becker returned the schedule back to the notice board. "While I'm burning our poop and Dennis is doing nothing, what exciting task have you got-…"

"The mech room. As always."

And that was it. Briefing over. Get to work slackers.

Dennis sat down on one of the room's chairs as his colleagues ascended the control room's ladder to go about their tasks. It was only polite of course, to not to burrow your head in physics while your friends were still in the room.

Or start using the dartboard either.

A/N

So yes, this is a novelization of the Thirteen segment of the ARG No Known Survivours for the original Dead Space game. Much easier to novelize than Leathal Affections and it's probably best to start off small. That being said, I do believe this chapter warrents some clarification, in the sense that not everything can be explained via narrative-namely, the date.

Thirteen implies that the events of Dead Space take place on a Sunday. However, the announcement trailer for Aftermath established the date as April 11, 2508, which is actually a Wednesday (yes, I checked a 2508 calendar 0_0). For a variety of reasons, I'm more inclined to go with this date, though if anyone disagrees, at least they know my reasoning beforehand. Now if you excuse me, I have to go deal with people calling me a nerd for going to such lengths...