There were many things Melody Angel expected to find when checking power readings on Deck C. A blown conduit. A miscalibrated gravity sensor. Maybe, if she was unlucky, a suspicious Mysteron mist.
What she did not expect was to hear a thump of bass-heavy music pulsing faintly through a supposedly decommissioned rec room.
She frowned, followed the sound—and opened the door to a sight she wouldn't soon forget.
Captain Ochre stood on top of a crate, tangled in cables, testing an old sound system that looked like it hadn't been used since Earth was below sea level. Music boomed through mismatched speakers as she triumphantly raised a fist.
"Yes! Told you this baby still had soul!"
Destiny Angel, in casual slacks and a white tee, stood nearby with her arms crossed and an amused expression. "Are you sure it's not just malfunctioning?"
Ochre grinned. "Destiny. It's retro. It malfunctions with style."
The plan was simple.
The room—long forgotten, technically unused—had space, sound, and no oversight. The mission: turn it into the first unofficial dance night on Skybase.
"No ranks, no rules, no radios," Ochre said, writing it on a scrap of tape and sticking it to the wall. "Just rhythm."
Destiny hesitated. "Colonel White would not approve."
"He doesn't need to approve. He needs plausible deniability. He's excellent at pretending not to know things."
Destiny raised an eyebrow. "You've put some thought into this."
"I have plans, Angel."
Word spread quietly.
Invitations were murmured in corridors, slipped between shift rotations, passed in glances and nods. By 2100 hours, the lights in the rec room were dimmed, the ancient disco ball was spinning lazily (after Ochre fixed its motor with a paper clip and sheer will), and the playlist was—somehow—a perfect blend of Earth classics and modern fusion beats.
Harmony arrived first, entirely serene in a lavender hoodie and slippers. Lieutenant Green—Serena—followed in a Spectrum-logoed hoodie, carrying a plate of illicit cookies.
Captain Blue turned up in jeans and a look of mild confusion, muttering, "How did I get roped into this again?" before quietly settling into a corner to observe.
Scarlet arrived last, shoulders tense, still halfway in uniform, as though afraid the colonel might appear out of a floor vent.
Destiny moved toward him, barefoot, her hair down for once. "You look like you've walked into a briefing room full of snakes."
"This isn't regulation," Scarlet replied stiffly.
"Neither is smiling, apparently." She offered a hand. "Come on."
He hesitated. Destiny didn't.
The music shifted—something with rhythm and swing. Around them, Ochre had already claimed the centre of the floor, moving with joyful chaos. Harmony tapped her fingers to the beat while Green taught Blue a three-step shuffle that neither of them mastered.
Destiny pulled Scarlet gently into the middle.
"Just move," she said.
He did. Awkwardly. But he did.
He stepped, turned, nearly bumped into Green, apologised, and then caught Destiny laughing—not at him, but with such genuine warmth that something in him let go.
Scarlet danced.
Not gracefully. Not expertly. But freely.
He didn't even realise he was smiling until Destiny leaned in and whispered, "See? Not so hard."
Later, as the night wound down and people trickled out with tired grins and sore feet, Ochre slumped beside Destiny on an old couch pushed against the wall.
"Well?" she asked.
Destiny nodded. "I'll give it a nine."
"Out of ten?"
"Out of infinity."
Ochre grinned. "Same time next week?"
Destiny glanced across the room at Scarlet, who was helping Blue fold chairs and looking more at ease than she'd seen in weeks.
"Yes," she said softly. "Definitely."
Somewhere on Skybase, Colonel White paused in his office, hearing a faint beat echo through the air ducts.
He sipped his tea.
Didn't say a word.
And let the music play.