A few more weeks passed with the Mothership stranded in the empty void of space. In that time, the entire crew had learned of their predicament. Surprisingly, it had a calming effect Jack hadn’t anticipated. It’s a strange thing to witness, but it’s the way human nature works. When you apply pressure to people, they start bending, like most things. But unlike anything else in the world, adding more pressure on top doesn’t simply make them break. The human spirit, when driven past a certain point, begins to straighten itself back up. Doubt and confusion had made them weak and restless, but the fear of certain death was now making them stronger than they’d ever been.
Technically, Major Barrett was still in charge, but you wouldn’t have known it. He spent most of his days alone in his office, drinking from his dwindling supply of liquor. Agent Okoro had assumed control of day-to-day operations. He put Adra and Dr. Liu in charge of figuring out how to manually operate the ship’s jump drive, enlisting anyone with technical expertise to help. Most of the remaining crew focused on scavenging anything that might be useful or rationing and distributing supplies. The situation was tight, but not yet desperate.
Oxygen wasn’t a concern—they weren’t sure how, but the ship seemed to recycle it endlessly. Water wasn’t an issue either; with reserves and filtration systems brought on board, their supply was virtually limitless. Food, however, was slightly more precarious. Much of it had been left behind during the rushed evacuation. They’d managed to jury-rig a walk-in freezer, but supplies were only enough for a few months—a year at most—with no means to produce more. There were also several tons of Kharlath nutrient sludge left of board, but it was barely edible for humans, and definitely not something they could subsist on exclusively. Still, most people remained hopeful that the scientists would figure out a solution, and that they wouldn’t be facing a decades-long voyage.
There was one glaring issue, however, that Mr. Okoro had no solution for—and no one dared to bring up: the Kharlath eggs. They were going to hatch in a matter of months, and no one knew what to do. Destroying them was out of the question, but so was feeding 30,000 hungry mouths. Even if they set aside all the nutrient sludge for the hatchlings, it wouldn’t last more than a week. Still, they had to focus on the problems they could solve—the most immediate concerns.
As Jack settled into his new routine, he found himself surprised by the most unexpected part of it: every few days, Barrett would call him into his office to sit, talk, and share a drink. Initially, he only went at Mr. Okoro’s encouragement—to keep an eye on the Major and ensure he wouldn’t do something too drastic. But as time passed, Jack realized he didn’t mind Barrett’s company as much as he thought he would. Somewhere along the way, Barrett had stopped being someone Jack despised and had become someone he pitied.
Barrett wasn’t the innately cruel, ruthless figure Jack had imagined him to be, but rather a man whose soul had been calloused by years of abuse and impossible decisions. Jack began to understand how someone in Barrett’s position might end up like this—dragged down by the weight of thousands of lives on his conscience, the constant paranoia, the self-doubt. Barrett had become more than just an obstacle in Jack’s path; he was a cautionary tale. Jack could see how easily he, too, could end up like the Major if he wasn’t careful.
“Come!” Barrett’s raspy, slurred voice startled Jack as he stepped into the Major’s office, now more resembling a creature’s den. Various objects were strewn about in chaotic disarray, and half-eaten meals left on plates gave the room a stale, unpleasant odor. The dim lighting was so low that Jack could barely see.
“Why the darkness?” Jack asked, reluctantly brushing a pile of papers off the chair before sitting down.
“Why not?” Barrett replied, staring vacantly into a corner of the room. “It’s the natural state of things. Earth coddled us, you know. Made us believe the world was equal parts light and darkness. But when we escaped our cradle, we discovered the horrifying truth: light is but a rare oasis in the eternal void. If we are to survive among the stars, we must learn to make peace with it.”
“You’re cheerful today,” Jack quipped. He had long since stopped paying too much attention to Barrett’s deranged ramblings.
“As a matter of fact, I am,” Barrett responded, turning his gaze sharply toward Jack. “Have you heard the news?”
“News?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Just this morning, Agent Okoro informed me that I’ve authorized a brand-new construction project.” Barrett let out a dry, bitter laugh. “We’re connecting the navigation mainframe to a processing center Dr. Liu discovered in some forgotten corner of the ship. One that wasn’t turned on with the rest. Liu hopes it won’t be aware of our little betrayal.”
Barrett fiddled with an empty glass, his unblinking stare fixed on Jack as he continued, “Okoro thinks we should free the remaining Kharlath prisoners and put them to work. What do you think?”
Jack was caught off guard by the question. Even in his current state, Barrett couldn’t seriously be asking for his opinion. What was his game? What was he trying to prove? After a brief moment of reflection, Jack answered carefully, trying to sound detached and analytical.
“I think they could be a useful asset. They’re strong, they know this ship better than we do, and we’re running out of time. They also don’t have much incentive to try anything while we’re all stranded here. Sure, there are risks, but keeping them in that makeshift prison isn’t much safer.”
“I assumed as much,” Barrett replied dismissively. “You and Okoro are both operating under the same false assumption—that if the stick didn’t work, the carrot must. You’re still thinking of them in human terms. And when you do that, yes, it makes sense. Any sane human would cooperate with us in these circumstances. But they aren’t human. They’re not Tarlak, Platharian, or even Zargon. They’re something else entirely. Creatures you cannot reason or negotiate with.”
Barrett’s eyes seemed to pierce through Jack as he spoke, with a clarity and vigor Jack hadn’t seen in months. “Tell me, have you ever heard the fable of the scorpion and the frog?”
Jack nodded, bracing himself for yet another of Barrett’s diatribes.
“Of course you haven’t,” Barrett scoffed. “No matter, you’ll learn its lesson soon enough. I’ll release them, but I want you to promise me something.”
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“What?” Jack asked warily.
“When the time comes—when it becomes inevitable—I want you to be the one who puts them down. I want you to look each one of them in the eyes and pull the trigger, knowing full well that you’re the one who put them in that position. Or you could just tell me to keep them locked up, and we’ll leave it at that.”
“Release them,” Jack answered, his voice firm with conviction. He refused to let Barrett worm his way into his head. Barrett barely acknowledged the response, waving him off with a dismissive, rude gesture toward the door.
As soon as Jack stepped out, a wave of relief washed over him. He had let his guard down too much, grown too comfortable around Barrett. No matter how broken the man appeared, the old spy was still manipulative—and dangerous. Jack had to stay vigilant.
Heading back toward his quarters, he was intercepted by Mr. Okoro, who spoke in a hushed tone. “How did it go?”
“He asked about releasing the Kharlath,” Jack replied bluntly. “Tried his usual mind games.”
“I’m sorry,” Okoro said, his voice sincere. “I didn’t get the chance to talk to you about it first. But please know, despite anything Barrett might’ve said in there, this isn’t a decision I’m taking lightly. Without them, this overhaul could take months—months we might not have.”
“I trust you,” Jack replied almost instantly. “You don’t have to justify yourself to me.”
“Good,” Okoro smiled broadly. “I want you in charge of the Kharlath when we put them to work. They respect strength and conviction, and you have the capacity to project both like few others I know. In the meantime, Dr. Liu could use your help with something.”
“My help?” Jack asked, surprised. “I know I signed up as a technician, but I’m not sure how much help I’d be to him.”
“It’s not exactly a technical matter,” Okoro laughed.
“Where are you?” Jack texted Dr. Liu as he meandered through the ship’s empty corridors.
“Library,” came the succinct reply.
The so-called Library wasn’t really a library, or at least not as far as they could tell. It was a massive room on Deck 19, located toward the ship’s aft. The peculiar thing about it was that it was packed with endless rows of tall shelves, filled not with books but with mysterious artifacts, of unknown purpose, most of them protected by impenetrable force fields. The Library stood out even more starkly because the rest of the ship was so barren—there seemed to be hardly any other items left from before the Kharlath’s arrival.
“Hi there!” Jack called out as he found Dr. Liu clumsily handling a plasma torch, attempting to remove a section of the wall.
“Oh,” Liu responded flatly.
“You, uh, asked for my help?” Jack asked, feeling unsure.
“Yes.” Dr. Liu stopped his work and turned to face him, visibly flustered. “There’s a rather delicate matter I need some… advice on.”
“How can I be of assistance?” Jack asked, curious.
“I, um, need some help… asking someone on a date,” Dr. Liu muttered, clearly uncomfortable.
“A date?” Jack blinked in surprise. “Why would you need my help with that?”
“I’m not very good with women. Or men. Or people in general, really.” Dr. Liu looked down at the floor, trying to hide his blush. “It’s not uncommon, where I’m from. Most of my peers are this way. It takes a certain kind of… commitment to become a xeno-archeologist or astrophysicist. You can imagine the kind of life I’ve led to excel at both. But I digress. My point is, I’m out of my element here. I don’t exactly know how to interact with—no offense—regular people.”
“You mean idiots?” Jack joked, hoping to put him at ease.
“I mean well-adjusted, socially active, normal folk. Like, say, Corporal Āwhina,” Dr. Liu clarified.
“You want to ask Corporal Āwhina out on a date!?” Jack tried, and failed, to stifle a laugh.
“Yes,” Liu replied, a bit crestfallen. “I know how it must seem to you. Probably how it will seem to her, too. But the heart wants what the heart wants.”
Jack immediately felt bad for laughing. There was nothing inherently strange about someone finding Corporal Āwhina attractive, or about someone being interested in Dr. Liu. But the idea of the two of them together painted such an unexpected and comical picture in his mind that he couldn’t help himself.
“Why ask me for help?” Jack tried to steer the conversation elsewhere.
“Well, you’re not the first person I approached. Naturally, I went to Mr. Okoro first, given their friendship. He’s the one who recommended you.”
Jack felt a twinge of betrayal, realizing Okoro had roped him into this situation.
“And it makes sense,” Dr. Liu continued. “You always seem to catch the ladies’ attention. Ms. Nakayama, Julie, Arda…”
“There’s nothing going on between me and Eve. Or Julie!” Jack exclaimed, taken aback. “And—wait, Arda?”
“Oh, I’ve said too much. My apologies,” Dr. Liu muttered, flustered again, his eyes darting away. “So, can you help me ask Corporal Āwhina out?”
“Well, first off, her name’s Emily. Definitely don’t call her Corporal,” Jack said with a smirk. “And look, I don’t want to discourage you, but... you do realize you two might not exactly work as a couple, right?”
“Oh, I’ve given it plenty of thought,” Dr. Liu responded earnestly. “The height difference isn’t too bad, and there are certain positions—”
“Absolutely not what I meant!” Jack interjected, a mix of amusement and horror on his face. He struggled to push the mental image out of his head. “I just mean you don’t really have any common interests, hobbies, or goals. Even if she’s interested in you, what’s going to keep you together once we’re off this ship?”
“If we get off this ship, you mean,” Dr. Liu quipped. “But honestly, I’m not one to think that far ahead when it comes to my personal life. And who’s to say you know either of us well enough to claim we’ve got nothing in common?”
“You’ve got a point,” Jack conceded. “Okay, here’s the plan. I’ve been saving up my beer tickets for a while now, and tonight I was going to have a small get-together with Eve, Julie and Windek. A party, or at least as close as we can get to one on this ship. Why don’t you come with us, and I’ll invite Āwhina as well? How does that sound?”
“Yes. Perfect, actually. Alcohol is the perfect excuse to be myself. Everyone’s blunt and awkward when they’re drunk!” Dr. Liu said, his spirits lifting considerably.
Jack wasn’t entirely sure about this plan, but at least it didn’t involve anyone getting hurt. Hopefully.
A few hours later, the party had begun, in the same room they had been conspiring against Barrett mere weeks before. Things seemed so dire then, and in many ways, they had only gotten worse. But it didn’t feel like it. They had purpose now, and certainty. At first, Jack watched Dr. Liu intently, with a mixture of curiosity and concern. But the scientist seemed determined to ignore Corporal Āwhina entirely. Probably for the best, he thought to himself. Soon enough, his attention drifted to other matters, and he allowed himself to relax, for the first time in what had felt like forever.
“What are you thinking about, Rust Scrubber?” Eve interrupted his thoughts
“You know it makes no sense to call me that anymore, right?” Jack skillfully avoided the question
“Once a Rust Scrubber, always a Rust Scrubber!” Eve retorted with a smile
“I was thinking about what’s going to happen once we get off this damned ship. We’re probably going to get assigned all over the galaxy. All of us here, we will probably never be in the same room again.” Jack finally spoke up, his voice laced with regret
“That’s how it is, mate. You meet people, they’re in your life for a while, then you go your separate ways.” Eve replied, melancholically “All you can do is enjoy the time you have with them.” She raised her glass in the air: “A toast! To our merry little group. And to the friends we’ve lost along the way!”
Everyone raised their glasses in unison and drank, solemnly, sharing a knowing look between themselves. The atmosphere in the room had changed, in the blink of an eye, and just as quickly, returned to normal. Jack poured himself another glass, and picked a corner of the room to sulk in. He didn’t much feel like partying anymore.