Disclaimer: The Among Us universe belongs to InnerSloth LLC and PlayEveryWare. This is a work of fanfiction and is not intended for profit or copyright infringement. I do not own the rights to Among Us or its setting/universe.
Parting with the journal is like parting with one of my own limbs. I had gotten so used to it being in my pocket it was like I lost an extension of myself. Over the next couple days following my meeting with Minka I keep reaching for it and panicking when I don't feel it, much like I used to do with my cell phone back on Earth. I haven't heard a peep from Minka and I'm not allowed to visit her, but Del assures me she's been engrossed in the journal's contents every time he's stopped to check on her.
I'll have it back soon, I keep telling myself.
"You didn't have to give it to her, you know," Osiris points out one day during rounds when our paths happen to cross. We walk side-by-side towards the front of the ship. "Anyone who acts ungrateful after being defended isn't in a position to make conditions, let alone have them honored."
"Her attitude wasn't the best but I don't regret it. It's a lot of information to digest. I think she just needs some time and space to figure things out for herself. If reading the journal helps with that then I'm more than happy to help out."
"Whatever you say. Well, this is me - see you later." He breaks off and heads towards Navigation (I still avoid that hallway whenever I can) and enter Oxygen by myself. The small cramped room has become very familiar to me. Ever since the funeral for Dr. Barnett I've been visiting Ebba a lot more than I usually do. She has a calmness about her that quells my anxiety and something about being in her presence makes me feel closer to both Barnett and my grandfather. Kenzo is usually there with us (if he's not in the kitchen) but I don't mind. He enjoys being there just as much as I do and his presence means I don't have to try so hard to figure out what Ebba is saying.
Today I find the pair of them bent over a small wooden milk crate filled with tiny ceramic pots. Each pot contains a small sapling no bigger than my thumbnail. This would have been nothing of note, were it not for the ear-splitting shrieks and squeals that emanate from the invisible mouths of these tiny saplings. They must sense my presence because the squeaking becomes louder and more urgent and Ebba and Kenzo's heads turn to greet me.
"What on Earth are those?" I pull up a nearby stool covered in soil and do my best to wipe it clean before gingerly plopping between them, leaning curiously over the little plants. Their vines reach out and flail wildly, chirping and squeaking like they're asking for something.
"Not Earth - Polus," Kenzo corrects me. "We don't know the scientific names for them but Ebba calls them Grabbers. Stinky little buggers. They don't look like much but they latch on to just about anything and only one thing will convince them to let go."
Ebba shakes a box of wheat thins. At the sound of the crackers rattling, the squeaking becomes so high-pitched I cover my ears. Ebba takes out a cracker and breaks off the corner, feeding it to one of the Grabbers. They all lunge for it but a particularly tall one with wide feelers snatches it and pulls it beneath the soil into its pot before the rest can steal it.
"'The plants on Polus are different than those on Earth,'" Kenzo translates for Ebba. "'Due to the cold climate and harsh conditions, the plants are forced to evolve beyond passive living organisms. They have a simple knowledge for sentient beings, but they know what food is and what wheat thins sound like.'" He lets out a harsh laugh. "Go figure."
"They're kind of cute." I reach in and tickle one of the Grabbers on its leaf. Immediately its spindly vine-like stem wraps itself around my finger. Its head bends to touch my finger cautiously, reminiscent of a dog sniffing around for a treat. Ebba offers me a wheat thin, and when I poke it into the plant's leaf it releases my finger and gobbles the cracker faster than blinking. I laugh and Ebba and Kenzo exchange wide grins.
"'It likes you,'" Kenzo translates for Ebba.
"This is incredible. Is all life on Polus like this?"
I know the answer even as I ask the question. Not all life on Polus is this innocent. That much is clear from the journal. Ebba's face darkens and she begins to sign.
"'It's important to refrain from judging a planet based on the life that dwells on it. Polus is not that different from Earth, in that it is home to a wide range of organisms, from peaceful and docile to dangerous and cruel. Just like plant life, the people of Polus have been forced to adapt and evolve over the millennia. There are so few of them it becomes important for them to protect their own kind, which is why they have so many natural abilities that are used to hunt and kill.'"
"I guess that makes sense...but why would they want to kill so many innocent people?" I insist, absently feeding the Grabbers small pieces of wheat thin without really paying attention. "I mean, I guess we're technically invading their home planet without their permission, but is violence really the only option? Like...couldn't we just have talked about it?" Suddenly a new question pops into my head - one that I haven't considered before. "Ebba, do you know if the Polusians speak a different language? Is there a way we can communicate with them?"
"'They speak as many languages as we do, from what I can tell,'" she responds through Kenzo. "'I doubt very much that they were in the mood for talking when the humans from Earth went about poking and prodding into their lives. They're a secretive race - proud, too - and refuse to be taken advantage of in that way.'"
"So...if that's the case then why go back at all? The first mission was a complete and utter failure and pretty much everyone died. You're the only one left. Why would we risk sending another crew back into space to colonize a planet that fought back? Wouldn't it be better just to leave them alone?"
Ebba smiles warmly at me. "'You ask good questions. Anthony, George and I brought up much the same to our mission leader, but he just shook his head and said that MIRA gets what MIRA wants and nothing we say or do can change its mind.'"
The way she speaks about MIRA as an 'it' instead of 'them' sends shivers down my spine. It's like the company is it's own sentient being and not made up of a body of thousands of employees. MIRA is always watching.
I'm about to ask more questions about Polusians - including their known weaknesses and what they look like in their human forms - when a loud clattering THUD resonates just outside the door, setting the walls to shuddering and the Grabbers squeaking in alarm. The three of us jackknife to our feet at the same time and rush to the entrance of Oxygen, only to find Osiris with his hands on his knees, panting and sweating like he's just run a marathon. The handprints on he metal door tell me he must have collided with the wall while running down the hallway at top speed.
I immediately sense something is off. He's sweating, but not with a polite blush or light sheen. His entire body is soaked, like he's just crawled out of a swimming pool. His hair is damp and limp in his face, water droplets clinging to his eyebrows and beard. He shakes as he wipes his mouth, flicking drops of sweat onto the floor. He takes great gulps of air as though he had just escaped being drowned.
"Osiris!" Kenzo shouts, gripping his damp shoulder and immediately pulling his hand back in disgust, wiping it on the seat of his bright yellow trousers. "What in the name of MIRA happened to you? Did you take a shower with your clothes on?"
"N-n..." Osiris shakes his head, trying and failing to speak. The syllables simply die in his throat and, without warning, he releases a torrent of dry coughing that hacks through his throat like sandpaper rubbing against itself. It sounds extremely painful. To our collective horror, he drops onto his hands and knees, keeling onto his side with a deep shuddering gasp.
"Water!" I bark to Ebba, who nods and bustles back into Oxygen, returning second later with a giant jug of water (she hefts it with surprising strength for a woman of her size and caliber), unscrews the jug, and dumps half of its contents onto Osiris's face. I kneel next to him, ignoring the river of water sloshing around me on the floor as I hold a hand up to his forehead. I pull away in shock. I can recognize the symptoms of heat stroke anywhere and Osiris is clearly suffering from some extreme form of it. The only question is why?
One thing is for sure: we're not going to get any answers out of him until we can get him stable. I take a hold of his feet while Ebba and Kenzo take his arms. Together we heft him off the ground (with his muscle mass and sweat-soaked uniform this is not simple task) and by the time we have him over the threshold into Oxygen I already feel sweat breaking out on my own forehead. In the corner of the room is a small water fountain that Ebba uses to fill the troughs and cans scattered throughout the room. We set Osiris down on top of the small cracked drain, propping his head and shoulders against the tiled wall, and I grab a flexible green garden hose hanging on the wall. I aim the hose at Osiris's face and Ebba turns the water on. The water sputters out clear and cold and I pass it over Osiris's whole body: face, chest, arms, torso, legs. He's out cold and after about a minute of hosing him down I reach out to feel his forehead. I breathe a sigh of relief. He's still warm but no longer burning up. I continue the process of cooling him off until his eyelids flutter open and he lets out a wet hacking out.
Ebba turns the water off and I drop the hose before rushing over and gripping the sides of his head, looking into his face for any additional signs of heatstroke. The worst seems to be over for now, but we'll have to continue to keep him stable and make sure he stays hydrated.
"Osiris," I whisper, pushing the curls away from his forehead. "Can you hear me?"
He nods, a pained look on his face. "Sage." His voice is dry and crackly. "He's...he's dead."
No. My heart drops into my stomach and my veins turn to ice. It feels like the floor has dropped out from under me and I can't breathe. My heart beats faster as the panic settles in. Who is dead? My mind scrolls through the possibilities. It can't be Kenzo - he's right here. That leaves Quill, Del, and Zale. None of these choices are good, but I pray with everything I have that he isn't talking about my brother.
"Who's dead, lad?" Kenzo demands, kneeling in front of him and placing a hand on his knee. "Is it your friend, Del?"
Osiris shakes his head. The knot in my chest loosens slightly but does nothing to ease my anxious beating heart. My breath hitches and my vision starts to go blurry as I feel the tears coming. Please. Please don't say it...
"Zale."
The sound that comes out of my mouth is a cross between a sigh and a sob. I press a had to my mouth and stare at Osiris through watery eyes. His chest heaves as he tries to regain his composure. He looks at me so intently it's like I'm the only one in the room.
"I found him in Communications," he says. "Or at least...what's left of it."
That doesn't sound good. I exchange nervous looks with Kenzo and Ebba and turn back to Osiris. "Tell us everything you can - did you see or hear anything? Anything that has to do with the Polusians?"
Osiris shakes his head. "I didn't hear or see anything. But I felt it. And smelled it. I was passing Comms when I walked into what felt like pocket of hot air. Like campfire smoke. Something...awful burned my nostrils. The door to Comms was closed. The closer I got the hotter the air became. I burned myself badly by touching the door." He holds up a hand and I see an angry red mark splashed across his palm.
"Is the ship on fire?" Kenzo asks, shocked.
"I thought so, at first. I knew Zale was in Comms - I saw him leave only half an hour before - so I knew he was in there. I didn't hear any screaming or crying for help, which made me wonder if he was unconscious. I tried getting in but the heat was unbearable - I started sweating just standing next to the door. I...I shouted a few times. Smoke started curling out from under the door, then...then the strangest thing happened. The door opened all by itself."
The three of us stare at him, rapt with attention. "And then what?" I ask quietly, guessing the answer based on the state we found him in.
"And then I died. At least, that's what it felt like. The heat coming from inside the room was enough to burn someone's skin off. If I had been any closer or stayed any longer I'm sure I would have been a goner. The strange thing was, right before I ran back the way I came, I looked into the room and didn't see any flames. Everything was black and charred - the place was completely destroyed. It was all just...hot air."
I shake my head, completely baffled. Was this the work of the Polusians? If so, it was unlike anything we had encountered so far. Honestly, it's incredible that Osiris even made it all the way from Communications to Oxygen without collapsing and succumbing to the heat stroke.
There's no way Zale made it.
"Do you think it's safe to go back? Do you think things have cooled down at all?"
"If you want to go back and look, be my guest, but I'm not going back until I know I'm not going to become a human popsicle."
I inhale deeply, determined to demonstrate some semblance of bravery and leadership. Now that our current leader is gone - again - we need to work together to make sure everyone else is safe. I communicate this to the others and stand back up. "Ebba, please get a pitcher of water and some wash cloths and make sure Osiris is back to a stable temperature. Kenzo, I want you to come with me. We need to find the others, including Minka. If this thing is targeting locked rooms we have to make sure she's safe."
No one questions me. Not anymore. How and why doesn't matter anymore, I realize with trepidation. All that matters is surviving. Someone has to do something.
Ebba nods firmly and Kenzo escorts me out of Oxygen, his head hung low so his chin rests on his chest. We turn away from Navigation and Communications and walk the opposite way, taking the short way to the Cafeteria through Weapons. Nobody is in the kitchen or the Cafeteria. Heart speeding up again, I break into a light jog, my feet echoing loudly on the tile as I rush past the black windows of the observation deck, and charge into the hallway leading towards Medbay. If I had been going even a trifle faster I would have rammed headfirst into the cabin door that opens in front of my face. Thankfully, Kenzo grabs my arm to stop me before I smash my nose in.
The cabin door closes and Del steps out with Lenna, the two of them looking grim-faced and serious. They know. The four of us stare at each other for a second before Lenna, her face pale, says, "Have you guys heard?"
"We. We heard. Osiris found him...or, well, he found the room." I glance at the door they came out of and realize they were visiting Minka. "Is she okay?"
"She's fine," Del says shortly. He looks agitated for some reason and won't look me in the eye. "Quite cheerful given the circumstances. She's staying in there until -"
"SAGE!"
Quill's voice interrupts the conversation and I immediately turn away from the group to run down the hallway at my brother, who runs full-force towards me. We collide, knocking the breath out of each other, and hold each other tightly, shaking all over.
"Quill! Thanks MIRA you're alive!" When I pull back I realize he's sweating more than normal. I take in his appearance: - the waxen skin, the haunted look in his eyes, the smears of dirt and grime on his lime uniform - and realize that he, too, must have been at Communications recently, perhaps just after Osiris. "How are you feeling? Dizzy? Nauseous? Can you see okay?" I touch his forehead but he swats my hand away impatiently.
"I'm fine, Sage. Just a bit hot and shaken up, that's all. I went looking for Osiris after he left to look for Zale - where is he?"
"In Oxygen with Ebba. Were you in Communications? Did you see what happened?"
Quill's mouth stretches into a flat, grim line, his eyes clouded over. "Yeah, I was there. I didn't see how it happened but I've seen - and felt - the results. No one should go anywhere near there until we know for sure things have cooled off. It was like being in a sauna just standing at the end of the hallway."
Poor Commander Zale. Whatever happened must have been simply awful - he may have been obnoxious and narcissistic but he definitely didn't deserve something so tragic.
The five of us babble incoherently for a while until the beginnings of a shoddy plan are formed. We decide to gather everyone together in the Cafeteria (including Minka, much to Del's chagrin) to discuss what happened and how to move forward. Del disappears back into the cabin to retrieve Minka while the rest of us shuffle back to Cafeteria. When we arrive we're pleasantly surprised to find that Ebba and Osiris are already there. Wet towels drape across Osiris's forehead, neck and legs. They're stuffed into the pockets and elastic waistband of his black uniform and he begrudgingly accepts small glasses of water from Ebba as she stands over him, making sure he drains every last drop.
A moment later Del arrives with Minka. She's in her handcuffs and he's being a little rougher with her than is altogether necessary. I watch, bewildered, as he pushes her onto a blue plastic bench so hard she topples over. A wide smile spreads across her face, which seems inappropriate for the situation.
"So, the high and mighty Commander Zale has finally kicked the bucket," she drawls with relish, her dark eyes glittering as she drinks each one of us up. I can't imagine she feels much remorse for the guy, especially after their big fight, but her tone and attitude are still completely uncalled for. "So how did it happen? Was it the alien baddie again? Was he slashed open? Bitten in two? Did his neck -?"
"CONTROL YOUR TONGUE!" Del cuffs her on the side of the face, cutting off her words of triumph. She grunts, glaring at him from beneath the blue fringe of her dark hair. She says nothing but flexes her jaw, dissolving into a brooding silence as she watches us.
"Del, I don't think you need to-"
"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Sage!" Del snaps. Shocked and slightly hurt, I stumble backward like he slapped me. Unbidden, I feel tears burn the back of my eyes but I blink them away. I can't cry. Not now. Thankfully, Lenna comes to my aid.
"Watch your tone, Del, geez," she glares at him. "Sage hasn't done anything wrong, so lay off her."
My heart burns with gratitude for my best friend. Del just grunts and refuses to look at me.
"So what do we do now?" Quill looks to Osiris. "It looks like you got the brunt of it, buddy. Did you happen to see any trace of Zale?"
"I'm not your buddy." Osiris sucks down another shot of water and accepts the next from Ebba. "It was so dam hot in that hallway the air was swimming before my eyes. Couldn't see shit."
"Right. Well..." he looks at me. I shrug.
"Don't look at me. I don't know anything."
We all automatically swivel our heads to Kenzo, who, based on his size and disposition, seems like the best candidate for our next leader. But he shakes his head, too.
"I'm afraid I have very little to lend to this conversation. The only thing I'll say is this: Zale was a good commander and a good man. Now that he's gone I doubt a single one of us here could measure up to him."
"He's right," Lenna says breathlessly. "We can't depend on one person for all the answers. We may be down four people, but we're still a crew and crew members are basically family. And family means no on gets left behind. So we have to work together -"
"Enough of this sappy bullshit!" Osiris lams his cup on the table and pushes the next drink of water forcefully away, causing it to spill all over Ebba's hand. "Don't you dimwits get it? Nothing matters anymore except for survival and we can't depend on anyone except for ourselves. Warrick depended on O'Connell and got fileted like a fish. O'Connell depended on Barnett and got his neck snapped. Barnett depended on Zale and got shanked into oblivion."
"Great, buddy. Real tactful," Quill snarls as I blanch. Osiris sneers at him.
"My point is, it's every man for himself. We can't fight it. We can't outsmart it. We can't avoid it. We can't intimidate it. The only thing now is to try and reason with it, but that would require being face to face with the thing, which has certainly never been done."
"So what - we just lie down and accept our fate? I don't think so. I don't know about the rest of you, but as soon as I can I'm going to Communications to find any clues about Zale's death and, hopefully, uncover the mystery of what happened and how."
"Since when did you become such a detective, Little Red?" Minka snorts. This earns her a sharp jab in the side from Del. It appears it doesn't matter what she does or says - Del will always disapprove of her.
"I'll come with you, Sage!" Lenna says, breathless, her large brown eyes full of a fervent light.
"Same here," Quill steps in. A nod, a surge of pride rushing through my chest. I have people on my side.
"Suit yourselves," Osiris grumbles. "I'm never going back there. You have no idea what it's like, having all the moisture sucked from your body in ten seconds."
"Osiris, you said you knew Zale was going to visit Communications - did he at all mention why he was going there?"
Osiris gives a half shrug. "Hell if I know. He might have mentioned something about contacting MIRA but that's all I know. He's been trying to do that for weeks now and nothing is helping."
My heart flutters anxiously. What if he had finally been able to contact MIRA and that's why he was going to Comms? That would also explain why he was singled out and attacked and the whole room destroyed.
"We need to get a better look at the room. If you want to stay, that's fine, but if you want to come with me I could use all the help I can get."
Most people avoid eye-contact with me and I can't blame them. I wouldn't want to go, either, especially if there wasn't the possibility that we might be able to uncover the secrets of Zale's death or learn more about the bigger threat. In the end only Quill, Del, and Lenna agree to come with me. We wait it out for a few hours before heading anywhere near Communications. When we do finally reach the hallway that connects the Lower Engine to Electrical and Communications, the heat hits us like a suffocating slap to the face. The feeling is akin to walking into the sweltering heat of summer after enjoying the fresh air conditioning indoors. We're not a minute in the hallway and I have to shed my red space uniform. The others follow suit and we stand in nothing but shorts and t-shirts and tank tops. The metal floor is hot beneath our feet and the walls sweat with heat around us. It's not unbearable but it definitely takes some getting used to, like walking across sunbaked sand at the beach.
We walk carefully down the hallway, past the door to Electrical where Commander Warrick's body was originally found. Things have gotten so much worse since then - we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into that night. I recall it was Halloween and we had been celebrating with scary movies and candy. Now it seems ridiculous that anything could be worth celebrating.
The door to Communications is open, and as we approach I realize it's because there is no door. What once served as a door is now nothing but a twisted metal blob on the floor. Thick trails of steam curl into the air and I hesitate outside the doorway. Things may have cooled off but my eyes still sting with heat. Standing on the threshold takes all of my tolerance and I already feel the sweat breaking out across my skin. I look at the others and notice their hair is plastered to their faces, their skin shiny and dripping. It reminds me of the time I ran a 12K with Quill. We had trained beforehand but neither of us were fully prepared. By the time it was over we were both sticky with sweat, our clothes plastered to our skin and sweat dripping into our eyes. It wasn't totally unlike what we're currently experiencing.
"MIRA above, I'm boiling," Lenna pants, swiping an arm across her forehead, which only spreads the sweat around instead of getting rid of it. Quill takes his finger through his damp hair to get it out of his eyes and I notice how flushed his face is.
"We shouldn't stick around too long - we don't want to battle any more heat strokes." The others nod. Steeling myself, I turn back to the Communications room and cross the threshold.
I've only been to Communications a couple of times. There wasn't really any need for me to be in there, since I didn't have any official credentials to keep in contact with MIRA apart from sending in our annual bloodwork and mediscan results. But I remember the room well enough. It was a small half-circle of a room with computer screens on the curved edge and a collection of radios lined up near the front. I often heard radio chatter upon passing the room and I once even caught a glimpse of morse code scrolling across the many screens. A dial-up modem lived in the left-hand corner, where, despite the destruction, a steady broken beeping noise still sadly bleats, flashing red.
Now the small room is unrecognizable. The computers are charred to a crisp, their screens cracked and smoking, exposed wires sparking. The radios are nothing but a steaming pile of burn plastic and twisted metal. The communications control panel is completely destroyed, despite the weak beeping of the modem. The floor, walls, and ceiling are charred an awful pitch-black and a tall husk of smoldering fabric stands off to the side, its back turned towards us. Zale's chair, I realize with a start of surprise. My surprise turns to dread as I realize that, besides being burned to a crisp, something is wrong with the chair. It's lumpier than it should be, and its headrest is bent at an awkward angle. Shaking from the heat, I move forward to investigate as quickly as possible. I touch the rolling chair and swivel it around to face me. Instead of smoothly turning, there's a loud crack and it breaks off its wheels, falling backwards and landing on the floor with a thump that shakes the whole room and sends up a cloud of dust and black char, making up pull our shirts over our mouths and noses as we cough through the settling cloud.
When the dust has finally cleared I see what's sitting in the chair and want to scream. I open my mouth to release the sound but nothing comes out - the atmosphere is too dry. My throat has clogged up and my tear ducts have been sucked dry of all moisture.
When I was in sixth grade our class took a field trip to the Museum of Ancient Egyptian Culture and Art. It was a fun excursion and I learned a lot about the ancient Egyptians. After learning about the pyramids I was determined to travel the world someday, but there was one part of the trip that branded itself into my memory forever. We were in what they called the Cremation Hall, which should have been a clue to the horror that lied within, but I was too excited to notice. I came out of that hall scarred - a completely different girl. Most of the mummies were covered by sarcophagi and masks but there was one in particular that was over 10,000 years old that gave me nightmares for weeks. Not only did it stand just above four feet tall but it was pale and shapeless and shriveled, like a human-sized raisin. The face was nothing but a lumpy mass of eye sockets and a misshapen nose, its mouth stretched open in what I could only imagine was horrible pain...
Looking at the charred remains of Commander Zale before me, I can't help but imagine the same. It's like a mummy was tossed over hot coals and roasted until it was coated in a thick black char all over its body. It is curled in the fetal position, cowering in the chair, the features of the once-handsome face completely melted and unrecognizable. The stench of burning hair and skin fills my nose and I retch. Lenna gasps behind me and Quill joins in my retching. I feel strong arms wrap around me as Del steers me away from the body. I let him because it's honestly just too horrible to look at.
It has to be him. Bits of bright cyan peek through the mostly-burned fabric that has welded itself to Zale's corpse. What the hell happened here? How could this have possibly happened without burning the whole ship down? I want to voice my questions but all that comes out is a small hacking sob. Lenna and I are herded out of the room and, once again, I'm grateful for it. Not only do I feel like I'm going crazy from the living nightmare in front of me but the heat is really starting to get to me. I feel dizzy and nauseous and want nothing more than to get back to the kitchen for a nice tall glass of ice water.
Del nudges the corpse with foot. It makes an odd rustling sort of noise as it shifts from the disturbance. He nods grimly at Quill and together they gingerly lift the charred remains of Commander Zale off the floor, careful not to hold him too high lest he break apart and crumble to the ground in a pile of ashes. They managed to get him out in one piece and as we walk back to Lower Engine I have to avert my eyes from the awful sight. When we get to Lower Engine the boys put Zale down and wipe the sweat off their brows.
"We should leave him here and come back for him later," Quill says. "Once we get some water and take showers to cool off. We can't strain ourselves too much."
"And how do we know the monster isn't going to come back and finish him off?" Lenna squeaks, digging her fingernails into her cheeks as she stares at Zale. "We still haven't ruled out the idea that they eat people - remember what happened to Commander Warrick's missing half? Gone! I'll bet this is like some sort of tantalizing barbecue for a bloodthirsty alien."
"Ugh, don't be gross, Lenna." I hold my stomach, feeling like I might retch again. I pile my long hair on top of my head and sigh heavily. "And Quill is right - we have to take care of ourselves first before we can take care of Zale. He'll be okay here - we'll throw that tarp over him until we can come back for him."
The others agree and we leave Zale's burned corpse in the Lower Engine room, covered with a fireproof tarp that sits in the corner. When we return to the Cafeteria everyone is still there. Ebba and Kenzo rise as we walk in. I can't imagine what we must look like, with our sweaty red faces streaked with grime and char, expressions drawn and tight, clothes clinging to our skin.
"Well? Did you find him?" Osiris grunts, not bothering to stand along with the others.
I nod. "Yeah. We found him."
"So he's gone, then? Gone for good?" Kenzo's brows knit together, forming a shadow over his deep-set eyes.
I nod again, wordlessly.
It doesn't feel real. It doesn't feel right. Zale had so much life left to live.
It shouldn't be this way.
"Communications is completely destroyed," Quill says. "Nothing but heaping piles of rubbish and burning metal and plastic. Whatever Zale was trying to do in there is long lost - any hope we have of contacting MIRA is gone."
That night, the hallway outside Communications eventually cools off enough for us to have a small funeral for Zale in Storage. Not much is said but plenty of tears are shed as we stand in respectful silence, staring at the husked remains of his once-handsome body, full of youth and vigor. We take turns sharing a fond memory of Zale.
When it's my turn I talk about the Halloween party we had. He shrieked like a girl and spilled popcorn everywhere.
Quill talks about how he jumped into his role as commander with eagerness and determination.
Lenna talks about all the times he tried to hit on her, and a small ripple of laughter rolls through the group.
Osiris says nothing. I study his face, watching carefully as the light leaves his eyes faster than someone flicking a switch. He's different now. He's an Osiris I don't recognize. The old one is gone, to be replaced by the quiet, scared-looking security guard that I see before me.
When Zale is officially gone out the trash chute, I finally let the tears fall. I weep bitterly for our lost commander. He may have been ridiculous and annoying but he was family. He was home. He was familiar and funny and full of life.
Now there's nothing but death.