Warnings: Swearing, Non-Explicit Nudity
Characters: Chase Brody, Jackieboy Man, Marvin the Magnificent, Jameson Jackson, Dr. Schneeplestein
POV: Chase Brody

(( nudity warning is a just-in-case thing, but they're just just changing!
you can see their designs for this AU blitzsdesignvault on Tumblr ))


Night had fallen by the time Jackie got back to the habitat.

Chase couldn't help the massive grin to cross his face when all of their PDAs beeped, the coordinates automatically transferring from Jackie's to theirs.

"Dry land," he breathed. "Holy shit."

"What about Keen?" Jameson asked, brows furrowed.

Jackie shrugged. Chase wasn't sure he liked that shrug. "He wasn't there, but left a message to get to the landmass ASAP. Also a scolding for going to the pod instead'a straight there."

"Well?" Henrik threw an impatient hand toward the bulkhead. "Are we going or not? I am fucking sick of the water."

Chase had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something snarky. Instead, he just crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "Dude. You really want to swim there at night? These coords are like, a kilometer from here, and we don't know what kinda shit's in the water between here and there. We'll wait for morning, make sure we've all got working Seaglides and batteries, and then we'll head out."

"One question." Marvin ran a hand through his mess of hair. "If it's only a kilometer away, how is it we can't see it from here?"

They all exchanged glances. That…was a good question…

They learned that, even after not resting the previous night, sleep was a fitful thing.

No beds left them on the hard floor of their habitat and trying not to elbow or kick each other. There was a point that Henrik woke up yelping as someone stretched, shoving a foot into his injured ankle, while Jackie's snoring would occasionally splutter to startle most awake. And, many times, something would bump against the habitat from outside and anyone unlucky enough to be awoken by it would be left bolting upright and throwing wild looks through the cramped room and at each other.

It was cold, it was uncomfortable, they were stripped down to their underwear because their dive suits were wet and it was beyond awkward, and they were all lucky to get any more than a few hours of sleep before sunlight filtered in through the room's single window.

Chase yawned and rubbed at his burning eyes. When he sat up, he couldn't help but grimace. God, his whole body ached. Going straight from nonstop swimming to sleeping on a hard floor couldn't be good for his muscles.

Jameson looked like the only one with any semblance of energy as he pulled himself to his feet and went straight for one of the lockers. From it, he grabbed his hearing aid.

Well. That would explain it. The noises they all heard throughout the night wouldn't have bothered James at all.

Chase just shook his head. "Lucky bastard," he chuckled.

All he got in response was a smug, toothy grin. The chef had a little bounce to his step as he grabbed what they had for food and water to pass around to the rest of them, though he was being careful with how he moved his arms.

"Aren't you sore, man?"

"A tad bit, yes," he replied once his hands were free to sign. "But I didn't do nearly as much swimming as the rest of you."

"Fair enough."

Chase…really wasn't looking forward to going back in the water. His body felt like it would scream at him if he did. But! They had things to do and dry land to get to! That thought alone was enough for him to push through the deep ache and pull himself to his feet while nibbling on the nutrient bar he'd been given.

Eesh, they tasted like cardboard. Really, Alterra? That's the best you could do?

The others were moving about as slow as him as they struggled to get up. Marvin's long limbs nearly tripped him as he stifled a yawn during his attempt to stand, while Henrik used the wall for support. He was barely letting his injured leg touch the ground, and was it bleeding again? There were little specks of blood soaked through the bandages. When he was kicked last night it must have broken some of the stitches. Ouch.

"Okay—" Chase yawned; the others couldn't help themselves from doing the same, "—Jackie and Marv, you two wanna craft us one more Seaglide and some more batteries? I'm gonna check over the 'Glides we already have to make sure they're safe for the trip. And…James, could we have you check Doc's leg while we're doing that?"

"Uh. Sure?" Jackie shrugged. "But why do ya want to check them? They're working fine."

Chase's mouth twitched. "We haven't tried 'em for this sort of distance before, and considerin' my crew was killed when theirs blew up? You're nuts if you think I'm lettin' that happen again."

"I—oh, god." Jackie's eyed were wide. "I didn't know—I—"

"I think we all lost friends, man. Let's just get off his damn planet."

"Right. Yeah."

Pulling their wetsuits on was even more of a struggle than Chase had imagined. They'd turned their backs to each other and stripped completely to pull their suits on, but they could all still hear each other grimacing and hissing as sore muscles rebelled against the tight fabric.

"This sucks," he grumbled.

Even Henrik made a sound of agreement.

When most of them had finally managed to pull the zippers up to their throats, Jameson was still struggling. He had one arm in a sleeve, but was struggling with the other, gritting his teeth, pressing a hand to his chest. Chase had about forgotten about the man's fractured ribs and grimaced sympathetically.

"Here. Let me help."

He got a relieved sigh and nod, with Jameson squeezing his eyes shut when Chase took hold of his arm to gently position it into the sleeve. Yeah, James was definitely going to be the one taking the Seamoth.

"Hey… I thought you needed glasses?"

The chef looked up at him and blinked, then gestured for his work clothes laying in a messy pile near everyone else's. "They might be in the pocket of my jeans." His shoulders shook in a silent chuckle. "So much going on I'd forgotten to put them on!"

"That why you ran into a locker while Jackie was gone yesterday?" Chase laughed when the man's ears turned red; Jackie snorted and gave a "wait, really?" sort of look their way. "Lemme grab 'em."

Sure enough, the circle-framed glasses were there. Their case had a big crack in it, but the glasses themselves looked all right.

With that done, everyone set to work.

It didn't take them long—Chase made a few little tweaks to one of their Seaglides that looked like it had been dropped, while they already had most of the supplies for batteries and another Seaglide stored in lockers—and they were left waiting for Jameson and Henrik.

"It's still inflamed." His signs were clumsy with a needle in one hand. "But I've re-stitched where they broke, and I think the wrap will hold."

"Okay. I guess we should head out, then."

Four with Seaglides, Jameson helped into the Seamoth, and they took off as soon as he had the controls figured out.

Chase squinted into the distance. Low-hanging clouds created a fog. He hadn't really noticed it before, but that fog had to be hiding the landmass. He ducked under the surface, swimming alongside the Seamoth that would occasionally zip ahead of them before Jameson let back on the touchy controls enough to keep to their slower pace.

Eventually, the two glanced at each other when they saw the shadows in the distance. Shadows that weren't moving. Shadows, illuminated by…something. Chase poked his head above the surface—land!—ducked back under, tried to process what he was seeing.

With one hand, the sign messy but more or less understandable, he asked, "Is this island floating?!"

Jameson did the same: Raised the Seamoth up enough to see the land looming ahead of them, then right back down to look at what should have been a mountainside. Instead, it was jutting pillars of stone that pointed down into the pitch-black waters below, glowing pink… Oh! Whoa… He'd seen those things, only much, much smaller versions of them floating rocks in the shallows. How were they this big?! Were they the reason the island was floating? Incredible…

They were both staring with wide eyes, their companions above oblivious to the sight just below.

As they drew nearer the island, Chase could make out sunlight slicing right into the center of it. There was a hole there. Maybe a way to get on the island, too; he couldn't see any beaches low enough for them to reach along the exterior so worth a shot, right?

He went back up, pushed his mask up on his forehead to he could call to the others. "Hey! Dive under, I think there's a way on the island down there!"

Glances cast around, then they followed him down.

The other three froze when they saw the sight that had greeting him and Jameson. He could see their thoughts clear as day on their faces: "Holy shit."

His hunch was right, too. Right smack-dab in the middle of the island was a bay, and in that bay, a beach.

On the beach, two sets of footprints.

As soon as they were on land, they all fought to get their flippers off, then bolted after the footprints. Marvin and Jameson, however, lagged behind. When Chase glanced back, he noticed they were looking at…something.

"Uh, guys? Why don't we go find the other survivors?"

"There's a PDA," the performer said, reaching down to snatch it up. "It looks like it was thrown."

"Thrown?" Jackie arched a brow.

"Look at the marks in the sand around it, and the screen's cracked to hell. It was thrown."

"Well…does it have anything on it?" Chase asked, leaning in a little.

"Uh… Yeah. Single recording."

Jackie tilted his head. "That's not right. Should have other stuff, right?"

"Yeah…" Chase answered. "Unless the user needed a single message prioritized and everything else is just locked, or the user died, so the PDA…recorded the last moments…" He rubbed at his beard and glared. "…I don't like this. Play the recording. Could be important."

CTO Yu and Keen started speaking; she wanted to board the ship, attempt to repair it. She was ready to go alone, but Keen chose—unwillingly, from the sounds of it—to accompany her.

Chase about opened his mouth—it seemed like a normal recording—but clamped it shut again when the damaged PDA crackled out, "Final recording from Second Officer Keen, two hours after last activity."

Keen's voice—out of breath, terrified—cut through the silence to fall over the group. He was breathing heavily, like he was running from something. "Rendezvous was a failure," he gasped out. "Intercepted a transmission from Alterra HQ; seems they sent a data package to the Aurora. We attempted to leave the island and were intercepted. Something's here. It's hunting us. Get off the island—consider the CTO and I dead." He paused. When he spoke again, he'd lowered his voice to but a whisper. "Be safe. Keen… Out."