Roy sat frozen at the console, still reeling from the thoughts he had been having and with the man's voice crackling through the comms moments earlier. His breathing was uneven as he stared blankly at the black hole on the monitor. His thoughts swirled with confusion and fear at what was happening.
He didn't hear the faint clinking of boots against the metal flooring until a hand landed gently on his shoulder. As Roy turned around to see who it was, it was Kieran. The Kieran he knew from a long time ago.
"Roy," Kieran spoke softly, his concerned face illuminated by the dim light. "You're shaking, man. Are you okay?"
Roy stared at Kieran. This man who looks like Kieran wasn't Kieran; Roy's brows furrowed deeply as he looked intensely at Kieran. Kieran was tall and lean, while this Kieran is tall and muscularly fit; his skin colour, highlighted by the sterile glow of the station's lighting, is a bit lighter than what Kieran's was.
Kieran, with his sharp, observant eyes, scanned Roy for signs of physical distress to find out why he was acting all weird.
"I… I'm fine," Roy stammered, but his voice lacked conviction. He quickly looked away, focusing back on the monitors as if they held all the answers to his questions.
"You don't look fine." Kieran crouched slightly to meet Roy's eye level. "Did you eat today? Sleep properly? You're not sick, are you?" He glanced at the monitor briefly before returning his gaze back to Roy. "You've been staring at that monitor as if it's going to eat you."
Roy forced a laugh, though it came out hollow. "No, I'm fine. Just … spaced out, I guess."
Kieran raised an eyebrow. "Spaced out, huh? On a space station?" Really leaning into the theme there," he chuckled; his attempt at humour was also different from the original Kieran, but the humour fell flat as Roy didn't respond.
The silence lingered, heavy and awkward.
Kieran eventually sighed, stood up and crossed his arms.
"Bro, you have to admit that was a pretty good joke… Alright, talk to me. What's going on?"
Roy hesitated, his mind racing for an explanation that wouldn't sound insane. "I … had a bad dream? I think," he said finally, hoping it sounded plausible.
"It just shook me up more than I expected."
"A nightmare?" Kieran said out loud, his tone softening. "That bad?"
Roy nodded, grateful he didn't have to elaborate as to what the dream was about.
"Yeah. just felt too real, you know?"
Kieran studied him for a moment longer before clapping a hand on Roy's shoulder. "Alright, well, I can't really blame you. Look, being out here, staring at the thing" – he gestured towards the black hole on the monitor – "is enough to mess with anyone's head. But hey, if you need to talk or take a break, just say a word to me, alright? We're all in this together."
"Thanks," Roy said, his voice barely above a whisper.
He managed a small, fleeting smile.
As soon as Kieran opened his mouth to say more, a deafening klaxon suddenly blared throughout the station. Red lights flashed overhead, bathing the room in an ominous glow. Both men snapped their heads toward the intercom as a monotone voice repeated.
"Hull integrity compromised. All personnel to the designated repair station."
Kieran's face hardened instantly.
"That's not good."
He motioned for Roy to follow him as he moved swiftly towards the door. "Let's go. We need to go to our station."
Roy pushed himself to his feet, his legs unsteady but functional. His heart pounded as he followed Kieran down the narrow corridor as if he knew everything about what was coming up and what he had to do.
The walls seemed to close in on him as the alarm continued to blare, each step echoing in his ear like a drumbeat.
Kieran glanced over his shoulder. "Stick close. It's probably just a micrometeorite impact, but still, we can't take chances."
"Right," Roy muttered, his voice barely audible over the blaring alarm. His mind raced with possibilities, each more catastrophic than the last.
They arrived at the central hub of the station, where several crew members had already assembled. Kieran quickly surveyed the scene and gestured toward the repair equipment lined along the wall. "Roy, grab a suit and check it out."
Roy hesitated for a brief moment before nodding and moving toward the suits. It felt strange—he had never worn one before and barely knew how they worked. Yet, as his hands moved, muscle memory seemed to take over. He checked each seal and latch with practised precision, fitting the suit as though he had done it countless times before.
Kieran stood by the hatch, tapping his gloved fingers against the metal as he waited. His concern hadn't faded, but his patience with Roy's hesitation seemed to be running thin.
"You're slower than usual," Kieran said, his tone light but edged with tension. "You're usually faster than this."
"Sorry," Roy muttered, his voice muffled by the helmet as he sealed it into place. The comm system clicked on, amplifying his next words. "I'm just a little out of it."
"Yeah, I noticed," Kieran replied, his voice soft. "We'll talk later about that. Let's handle this first."
As Roy stepped through the narrow corridor, his boots thudding against the metal flooring, he couldn't help but glance at the blinking consoles lining the wall. The data displayed on the screens, the faint hum of machinery in the background, and the weightless sensation in his stomach.
All of it felt so painfully real, too real for it to be a dream.
They reached the main observation bay, where the rest of the crew members had gathered. The room buzzed with activity as voices overlapped one another to converse, reports were exchanged and theories discussed.
Standing near the central console was Dr Elara Voss, her gaze fixed on a holographic display of the Gargantua black hole. She was calm and collected, even as red warning lights flickered in the background.
"Radiation spikes are increasing," Elara said, not looking up as she addressed the entire group. "We need to confirm the hull's integrity before we proceed with the next phase."
Captain Ivan Girgorev loomed nearby, his broad shoulders squared as he surveyed the crew. His voice cut through the noise like a blade. "Check it thoroughly. I don't want any mistakes. If this station fails, we won't be able to fix it in time."
By the maintenance console, Kat Moreno fiddled with a handheld device, muttering under her breath. She looked up briefly, flashed a quick smile and got back to work.
Roy managed a weak smile back.
Seated at the far end of the room, Dr Horishi Takeda quietly observed the others, his expression calm but thoughtful. When his gaze landed on Roy, he gave a small, encouraging nod.
The last figure in the room was Mason Keller, leaning against the wall awaiting his orders. "So, we're all here. Great. Can we get on with it? Some of us have better things to do than standing around."
Roy's stomach churned as he met Mason's gaze. There was something unsettling about him, a sense of arrogance that felt misplaced given the severity of the situation.
Roy, back when he was on Earth, went through a lot of practice drills for situations like this, and somehowhe knows what to do and how to do it.
But he doesn't know how he remembers it.
"Alright, listen up," Ivan commanded, drawing all of the crew's attention. "Elara and Kieran will handle primary scans. Kaat, you're on backup systems. Doctor, stay on standby in case we need medical assistance. Mason, Roy, you're with me for the hull inspection. Move it, people. Move it!"
Roy nodded, falling into step behind Ivan as they exited the observation bay. Mason trailed behind, his footsteps deliberate and unhurried.
The journey to the hull inspection site was silent, except for the faint hum of the station and the occasional crackle of the comm system that had been going on for a while. As they approached the hatch leading to the outer maintenance zone, alarms blared suddenly, a piercing sound that sent a jolt through Roy's chest.
"What the hell was that?" Mason questioned.
Ican's voice was calm but firm. "I am getting information from Kat; there is a pressure leak in sector 3. We need to seal it before it compromises the entire station. Let's Move!"
The urgency of the situation sank into Roy. This was no ordinary day at the station. Something was wrong, very wrong.
"Stick close," Ivan barked, his commanding presence an anchor in the chaos. "And don't do anything stupid."
Roy swallowed hard, gripping the railing as they were taught to do at camp as they made their way toward the hull from another way, as they couldn't get into sector 3. Roy could feel Mason's eyes on him, a quiet tension building between them.
As the hatch opened, revealing the vast expanse of space outside, Roy steeled himself. This was just the beginning. He didn't know what awaited him, but one thing was certain: this nightmare or reality was far from over for him.
As the hatch sealed behind them, the hum of the station became faint, replaced by the hollow echoes of their breathing through the comms. Roy followed Ivan and Mason; his stomach churned as he glanced through the reinforced window, the black hole's glowing event horizon dominating the view. It loomed ominously, a constant reminder of the fragile line they all walked on.
"Keep your focus, Roy," Ivan's voice broke through the comms, sharp but steady. "Eyes on the task. Do not get distracted."
Roy nodded, even though Ivan couldn't see the gesture. His gloved hands gripped the railing as they descended towards the inspection site. Mason trailed behind, muttering something under his breath that the comms system couldn't catch properly.
When they reached the access point, Ivan stopped and gestured to a panel embedded in the wall. "Mason, take the readings. Roy, secure the safety locks. I'll monitor from here."
"Got it," Mason replied, his voice clipped. He moved towards the console, his movements brisk.
Roy crouched by the safety locks, his fingers working deftly despite the hefty gloves. The routine task gave him a momentary distraction from the dread gnawing at his chest.
Then the station jolted violently.
The force sent Roy, who was on the ground, clipping them into a safety lock against the wall, the impact knocking the wind out of him. Mason cursed loudly, clutching the console to steady himself. Ivan grabbed a nearby railing, his voice barking over the comms.
"Report! What just happened?"
Before anyone could answer his question, a second impact rocked the station. The screech of metal tearing reverberated through the hull, a gut-wrenching sound that made Roy's blood run cold.