Chapter Text
Day 1.
The Star Nomad was shut in his spaceship alone. He'd never been away from the chatter of his people before, even wished to be away from it. But now, the silence was eerie, and his fur bristled at the one thought that he could never seem to process. You're the last.
He checked the holograms projected on a screen, of which doubled as the front window of his spaceship. Looks like everything in the ship is under control. Lights are fine, each wing seems sturdy, the engine's running just fine...
He watered his plants, cleaned the kitchen, talked a little bit with the AI system built into his ship. This wasn't his first day on the ship, he'd actually been revamping and familiarizing himself with it for some time now. Just the first day he truly felt… alone.
Day 10.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Wake up, make his bed, check the ship, water the plants, clean and dust around the ship, talk with Abby (the AI built in his ship), sleep. He had no need for eating, nor drinking. He just existed.
Day 100.
The cycle repeats. Wake up, make his bed, check the ship, water the plants…
_________________
"How long have we been stranded in space?"
"Approximately 257 years, Benjy."
The tall, thin Star Nomad with fluffy light yellow fur and a black and white varsity jacket sat hunched over a control panel in front of a large window which doubled as a computer screen. His hands were in his disheveled hair, his expression drained.
He ran one of his hands through the soft fur of his green alien bug companion, Lily, of which he found trapped in a cage in a trading market. She was just a baby, trapped and lost and stranded in the middle of nowhere with nobody to go to, and no freedom; she reminded him all too much of himself. And so, he took her in to save her from the misery he had been in for centuries. Before Lily came around, he was alone — him and the artificial intelligence program set up in his spaceship that he named Abby. Not like that was out of the ordinary. He had been alone for almost as long as he could remember. Almost. He had a family and everything… or at least he used to. He was lost now, with no real purpose except to linger aimlessly in the cold, dark vacuum of space.
He wanted nothing more than to feel like he was at home again, to meet another Star Nomad. The problem with being a Star Nomad, though, is that they're extremely rare — born from the ashes of a dead star, they were often spread far, far, far apart. The distance of one Star Nomad from the next could be solar systems apart, galaxies even. Benjy didn't know when he was ever going to see a Star Nomad again, let alone see any left at all.
Coming with being an incredibly exotic specimen will always be people actively seeking for them. Some of these people are good, some are bad. More often than not, Star Nomads fell into the hands of the bad sort — bounty hunters, poachers, you name it. Every time Benjy narrowly escaped capture from a bounty hunter, he thought of the other Nomads that had to be doomed to a horrible fate. Nobody understood the ache that gnawed at him thinking about it, the fear. The fear of being the last.
Benjy walked into the greenroom of his ship, Lily in his arms. It was a spacious hall, with all kinds of exotic plants from every planet he managed to visit without being caught. Without him, they would die. They made him feel needed. Sometimes he talked to the plants… turns out they were great listeners. Light filtered by the taller plants beamed down on the manmade jungle from a skylight in the top of the room, kissing the thick foliage with warm sunlight. The gentle sound of water trickling filled the lonely Star Nomad's ears.
Benjy was just letting Lily bathe in the bird fountain when he heard an alarm blare. He jumped at the sound. Seriously? Another one? He wanted to catch a break for once.
"Flabdrassit..!" he cursed under his breath. He frantically wrapped his soggy companion in a towel (almost dropping her a couple of times) before rushing into the control room. His eyes caught sight of an object spotted on the radar — upon closer inspection, he saw exactly what he was expecting: a bounty hunter ship. Cliche. He set Lily down and his fingers flew across the buttons and switches and levers, eyes flitting back and forth, trying his best to maneuver his ship out of reach. The bounty hunter was hot on his heels — he twisted around asteroids, ducked under planets, made some pretty crazy moves in the heat of the moment, but he couldn't shake off the ship from his tracks. Finally, when he seemed to be drifting ahead of the bounty hunter…
His ship veered straight into a spacewasp swarm. The spacewasps' buzzing was blood curdling. The ginormous bugs bombarded the ship, the entire spacecraft jostled back and forth like a toy. Out of a window, Benjy saw a humongous, beady eye peering into the ship.
"HANG ON LILY! WE'LL BE OKAY!" Benjy tried to scream to Lily over the noise, not like it would do anything — it was all too hectic. The wailing of the siren, the flashing red lights, the rumbling of the ship, the deafening roar of the spacewasps. Once the insects cleared away, the Star Nomad realized the spaceship was losing altitude at an alarming pace. His eyes darted around on his control board feverently, his hands zipping across the buttons, switches, and levers. Benjy wasn't ready to die, not in this way.
The Star Nomad fumbled with the controls trying to recalibrate his ship, but it was no use. He had lost all control over it — the radar was fried and the screen was fuzzed over with static. All the noise was jumbling Benjy's already preoccupied mind. He thrusted his head towards a window and saw a small planet approaching from below. At this point, nothing could be done. Benjy wrapped his arms around a panicked and confused Lily and braced for impact. Soon enough, the aircraft started to be sucked in by the gravitational pull of the planet beneath.
75,000 feet. 72,000 feet. 70,000. 65,000.
Benjy prayed that he and his only friend would be okay.
45,000. 30,000. 25,000.
Lily seemed to sense his distress and huddled against him just as tightly.
10,000. 7,000. 5,000.
The odds seemed virtually impossible. Benjy was quickly losing all hope.
1,000. 500. 100.
The Star Nomad shut his eyes.