Allen couldn’t sleep. It didn’t matter what he did. He tried running around, he tried headspace, he even tried listening to one of Devon’s old astrophysics podcasts.

Nothing.

There wasn’t anything he was dwelling on at the moment that kept him up. Maybe his body just felt like going through an insomniac phase.

He browsed his phone for a bit, looking for a solution. Any solution. He would conduct a ritual to sell his soul to Satan if it got him to bed.

There was something about just staring blankly whilst in bed. It was meant to tire him out, apparently. Not as extreme as he was expecting, but sure.

Allen tried it. It took a minute but he really felt like he was making progress. After an hour of mucking about, he finally had a chance to slumber.

“BECAUSE MAYBEEEEEEE..."

His phone was ringing.

Usually, he would have just left it for the morning. However, Allen was on a vessel now about fifty light-years from UN Space. Every bit of communication that went through to him could essentially have been a life-or-death decision.

He grabbed the mobile off his wrinkled duvet, squinted at the details of who was calling him. Didn’t recognise the number other than the fact it was coming from the UK. It can’t have been someone from the BSC, they wouldn’t call out of office hours, especially not through his mobile.

Allen accepted the call, squinting as the bright face of an elderly woman appeared.

“Who are you?” Her voice was posh, London posh.

“Who are you?” Allen asked tiredly.

“Did Sandra give me the wrong bloody number? You wouldn’t happen to know someone called Robert would you?”

“Were you trying to call someone on a ship called the HMSS Berners-Lee?”

“Something like that.”

He sighed. “I can try and put you through. What’s erm… what’s Robert’s surname?”

“Louis. Robert Louis. Unless he’s going by ‘Bobby’ again.”

“It’s a bit late to be calling. What is it—” Allen checked the time on his phone, the timezone would have still been stuck at Greenwich Mean Time. “—Two in the morning there?”

The lady took a bit of offence at that. “Just put me through to Robert, please.”

“Yeah, right, okay.” He pulled himself up. “Who should I say’s calling?”

“His Auntie Vicky.”

It suddenly clicked for Allen. “Sure… your majesty?” Those words sounded weird in his mouth. “JADE!”

The AI’s voice popped in with an artificial yawn. “I don’t work the night shift, Captain.”

Allen just stared silently above.

“No, I’m joking. Right, what do you want?”

“Transfer my call to Leftenant Robert Louis, would you?”

“I… can’t do that, Captain.”

“Seriously?”

“If it was a ship communication, then sure. But mobile calls are on another system. I can’t do anything about it.”

Allen groaned. “I’m on the ship’s wi-fi, you seriously can’t do anything?”

“I could hack it but that would be a breach of privacy.”

“JADE, you see this whole crew stark naked every single morning. You know every little secret being held on board this vessel. And only now you care about privacy?”

“Correction: digital privacy.”

“If I may enquire, what kind of shitshow have you been running here?” Vicky asked.

“Be quiet,” he told her, before turning back to JADE. “Do you at least have Louis’ phone number?”

“Of course, would you like me to relay the details?”

“Yes!” Allen facepalmed, he just wanted to sleep now.

He got a text from JADE on his phone. Allen hung up, sent the number to Vicky, and collapsed back onto his fluffy fortress of solitude.

At least all of this tired him out.

“This is why they’re cutting our budget, Allen,” JADE said.

“Will you just piss off, please?”

----------------------------------------

The past two weeks had been… interesting for Kumar. She was able to fit in decently with the rest of the crew. The people in her science team had been more than nice to help her out with anything. But even then, it was rough getting used to everything. The same corridors, the same people, the naff wi-fi. Oddly enough, it was miles less of a nightmare than her last job.

Still, being the start of this expedition, nobody in her team had been doing anything important. Maybe sort through subspace data, or whatever survey probes picked up.

Today, it was firearms training. Only in the simulators, the ship wouldn’t use real guns and ammo for all of this, much to Rune’s discontent.

“You’re not holding it right,” Rune told Kumar, holding the hardlight hologram of a handgun.

Kumar glared at Rune confused. “Both hands are on, I can pull the trigger. What else do you want from me?”

“For one, you’re holding it upside down."

She and the other crewmen in the room stared at her. Come to think of it, it was a bit uncomfortable to hold. “This isn’t the right way up?”

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“Well, unless you prefer shooting with your pinkie fingers,” she said. “Have you really not seen anyone holding a gun?”

“We don’t have guns back home!”

“I mean on TV, films, video games. Did you even play with water guns when you were younger?”

“Well… no.”

Rune sighed, pinching the bridge of her scarred nose. “Just turn it the other way, fire the gun at the target.”

Kumar switched it around, feeling hot out of embarrassment. Honestly, better she learned now than in a firefight with a group of Yntal, or some other weird space monster.

“Aim down the sights,” Rune said. “You see that little thing sticking off at the barrel?”

“That’s the long shooty bit, right?"

Rune groaned, having the urge to place that long shooty bit into her mouth. “Yes, that’s the thing. Please pull the trigger so I never have to speak to you about guns again.”

Kumar fired at the humanoid hologram thirty metres in front of her.

It didn’t hit the target.

It hit Finch.

“Ow! What was that for?!” He cried, now on the floor in the corner of the simulator.

“Sorry,” Kumar said. “Are— are you okay?”

Finch clutched his bruised thigh, moving away from the firing range. “Can I request never being placed on a mission with her?” He asked Rune.

“Grow up, Ensign,” she said, before saying to Kumar, “Okay, have another go.”

Kumar fired again.

She got Finch in the face.

His eyes… well, eye, targeted her with a vengeful stare. “I’M NOWHERE EVEN NEAR THE FUCKING TARGETS!”

----------------------------------------

“Move, move, move the hell out of the way!”

What was meant to be Monso squirmed furiously strapped on the infirmary bed. Doctor Fenhi rushed it through the corridors as otherworldly whines cried out from the patient.

Sedatives didn’t work. Neither did the traditional kick to the groin. Subspace possessions weren’t uncommon on starships, especially in the engine rooms, but extended ones were quite rare.

“SET’OU, JA’LEMANYA,” Monso screeched.

“Oh, shut it,” Fenhi told the creature. “You never stay close to the subspace core, that’s Stephen’s job!”

“GRESAVER’EUSOASEL AMYEK—”

Fenhi grabbed a dirty pan from a passing chef. “I will pan you if you don’t shut up right now!”

“Is that really necessary, Inha?” Kendrick asked, walking from behind.

“I will commit horrors beyond living comprehension if it means it exorcises a subspace creature from a crew member! Besides, how many times have we had to kick your bollocks?!”

They rushed to an infirmary. Kendrick stayed outside, being told not to interrupt a ‘delicate procedure’.

Nurse Pale shot up from her seat as Fenhi moved inside.

“Subspace infection?” She asked.

Fenhi let go of Monso’s bed and grabbed a few bits of equipment. “Severe. Groinal procedure didn’t work.”

“What’s the plan, then?”

He spun a hand drill.

Pale’s eyes grew wide. “Doctor?”

“Hold his leg down.”

“What the heck?! No!”

“Yes. Hold his leg down.”

“I took an oath to do no harm!” Pale shouted.

“Yes, the Hippocratic oath. I’m aware. Thankfully, I’m Arvan.”

“You’re from Cardiff!”

“Well…” Fenhi couldn’t think of a comeback that didn't make him sound like a twonk. “What do you suggest then?”

“ASAVEYIKEL IMMADAN! ZOSUNDA EFA!” Monso shouted again.

Fenhi put the drill down and grabbed the pan. “Right, I told you what would happen!”

Pale snatched it off his feathered hands. “No!”

“For God’s sake, Jen, do you want this thing out of Monso’s body or not?”

“I don’t know! Try talking?!”

“Talking? Talking?! We shoot half the people we meet out in space. This thing’s part of that half!”

“Well, so far, violence hasn’t worked!” Pale said.

“Because you haven’t let me use any yet!”

“Well…” Pale thought hard for a few moments. “How about you let me try something. If it doesn’t work, use the pan.”

Fenhi paused. He might as well have had Pale get her head around subspace possessions. “Fine. Don’t take long.”

Pale took a deep breath. Monso was still squirming like a drugged fish out of water.

“Hi there, Imen,” she said. “Or… well, whoever it is in your body. Do you understand me? Do you know where you are?”

“ASEYTIEN’AK DESTEVISH!” Monso shouted.

Fenhi lit a cigarette. “Christ almighty.”

Pale glared to him. “Do you have to do that in here?!”

He groaned, stepping outside the room.

Kendrick ran up to him. “Anything?”

“Pale’s putting her online psychology course to use for once.”

“Did you at least use the drill?”

“Nope. She’s acting stubborn again, so I’m letting her figure out the virtue of violence for herself.”

Back inside, Pale continued talking. “I know you can understand me. You’ve got access to this Ensign’s brain.”

“ESCOLIV! AJAMANSA!”

“I get it, you’re scared. You’ve been in subspace for god-knows-how-long, in a weird Farahali’s body. You’re trying to figure out what’s going on. I can help you.”

“SEVRELTO AD JEMYENKAI!”

One of the straps broke, freeing the arms. The thing in Monso yanked one of the equipment from the side and threw it at Pale.

“Okay! Okay! Calm down, I’m here to help!”

It was yanking at the straps now. Another minute and it would have lunged at her. Pale was about to go… pale. Still, she kept talking calmly.

Fenhi barged back inside. “You let him get out of the straps?”

“USUVIA IBELO!” It threw a glass, the two ducked.

“And he hasn’t figured out how to speak English yet. Perfect.”

They both held him down with only some struggle. Fenhi grabbed some nearby duct tape and began wrapping it around Monso.

“This should hold better,” he said.

“Should we get the counsellor in?” Pale asked.

“What’s Abdul going to do, dive into the creature’s daddy issues?”

“ISITENVEYA BASTARD BIRD!”

Fenhi folded his arms. “Oh, look at that, he’s speaking English. Hey, Casper, can you fuck off out this engineer please?”

“ASCENSION! ISITENVEYA WILL HAVE ASCENSION!”

“What’s he on about?” Pale said.

“You know how those subspace things can be, eldritch horror nonsense. They try to sound scary but they’re an annoying pain in the arse if anything.”

“So I can still talk to it?”

Fenhi leaned down on Monso as some of the tape began to tear. “Yeah. But judging by how it’s speaking, it’s got the intelligence of an animal, might as well be a brick wall.”

Pale looked to Monso, and spoke slowly. “Do. You. Understand. Me?”

The Doctor avoided the urge for another smoke break.

“ISITENVEYA ASCENSION!”

“I still have the pan,” Fenhi said, holding it in his hand.

“No, no, we can do something else.”

“It’ll be gone either way and poor Monso here can actually get a break. At least with the pan, it’ll go much more quickly.”

“By giving him a concussion?!”

“Jen, I know you’ve been here for a few months now, but work long enough in this field, a concussion will be a vacation for someone like him. He has to work with Stephen for Christ’s sake.”

“What’s wrong with the Leftenant?

Fenhi scoffed. “Nothing against them, they’re a lovely guy. They just stink.” The tape began to tear. “Goddammit. Hold him down again. I might have to get some scrap and a welder at this rate.”

“Could we bring one of the engineers in?” Pale asked as Fenhi spent the whole role of tape on Monso.

“We’re doing the ‘I know you’re in there’ trope? Listen, Kendrick’s outside but I wouldn’t trust him with my life. He gets on my nerves.” He looked up, as if a lightbulb popped in over his head. “Wait.”

Pale smiled.

Kendrick was dragged into the room in the next minute. He eyed his colleague squirming with blood-violet eyes on the taped-up bed. “So, percussive maintenance didn’t work?”

“Look,” Fenhi said, “Just say anything to him. Please.”

“Anything?”

“Anything,” Pale said.

None of it helped Kendrick. But he tried anyway. “Well, hey, bud.”

“Bud?!” Fenhi repeated. “Let me be more specific, try to piss him off.”

“Piss him off?”

“Yes! Just bring up something that would irritate him.”

“I don’t irritate him!” Kendrick protested.

Fenhi folded his arms, raising his… well, he pretended he had an eyebrow.

“Fine.” Kendrick stood for a few moments. “Monso, I was thinking….”

A cigarette was slowly emerging from the Doctor’s pocket. Pale slapped it off him.

“Say I got myself my own robot. Like a personal servant, not an Android like Ben. It’s newly built, so if I had sex with it, would that essentially make me a paedophile?”

The two medical personnel stared at each other, likely regretting their choice.

Suddenly, they all realised Monso stopped squirming. His purple eyes gazed at Kendrick in silent bafflement.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” His still distorted voice broke out, muffled behind the tape.

Kendrick soon understood what to do now. “I mean, the age of consent across the Commowealth is sixteen. The robot is under that age so… I mean what do we factor in? The age or the build?”

That glow in Monso’s eyes faded into red. His voice was much lower now. “I mean it entirely depends what kind of robot it is, you git!”

The two engineers continued to bicker. Fenhi turned to Pale. “Promise me we’re sticking to the pan from now on.”

“Not a chance in heck, Inha,” Pale said. “Like it or not, social pain works as well as physical pain.”

“With physical pain, Jen, if I stab someone in the knee, I’m not doing the same to myself here, am I?”

“Shouldn’t you be having a smoke, Doctor?”

“Now you let me have on.” He began to walk out the room. “You’re dealing with the paperwork.” He looked back. “Good job, though, still.”